it’s been four years. The way I feel...’
‘Don’t!’
He looked at her for a long, steady moment and then he looked down at the wombat. And nodded. Moving on? ‘But we can pack stuff up for Danny?’
‘I...yes.’
‘We need things for Amina as well.’
‘I have...too many things.’ She thought of her dressing table, stuffed with girly things collected through a lifetime. She thought of the house next door, a heap of smouldering ash. Sharing was a no-brainer; in fact Amina could have it all.
‘Wrapping paper?’ Rob demanded. The emotion was dissipating. Maybe he’d realised he’d taken her to an edge that terrified her.
‘I have a desk full of it,’ she told him, grateful to be back on firm ground.
‘Always the organised one.’ He hesitated. ‘Stockings?’
She took a deep breath at that and the edge was suddenly close again. Yes, they had stockings. Four. Julie, Rob, Aiden, Christopher. Her mother had embroidered names on each.
But she could be practical. She could do this. ‘I’ll unpick the names,’ she said.
‘We can use pillowcases instead.’
‘N...no. I’ll unpick them.’
‘I can help.’ He hesitated. ‘I need to head out and put a few pans of water around for the wildlife, and then I’m all yours. But, Jules...’
‘Mmm?’
‘When we’re done playing Santa Claus...will you come to bed with me tonight?’
This was tearing her in two. If she could walk away now she would, she thought. She’d walk straight out of the door, onto the road down to the highway and out of here. But that wasn’t possible and this man, the man with the eyes that saw everything there was to know, was looking at her. And he was smiling, but his smile had all her pain behind it, and all his too. They had shared ghosts. Somehow, Rob was moving past them. But for her... The ghosts held her in thrall and she was trapped.
But for this night, within the trap there was wriggle room. She’d remove names from Christmas stockings. She’d wrap her children’s toys and address them to Danny. She’d even find the snorkel and flippers she had hidden up on the top of her wardrobe. She’d bought them for Rob because she loved the beach, she’d loved taking the boys there and she was...she had been...slowly persuading Rob of its delights.
Did he go to the beach now? What was he doing with his life?
Who knew, and after this night she’d stop wondering again. But on Christmas morning the ghosts would see her stuffing the snorkel and flippers in his stocking. He’d head out into the burned bush with his pails of water so animals wouldn’t die and, while he did, she’d prepare him a Christmas.
And the ghosts would see her lie in his arms this night.
‘Yes,’ she whispered because the word seemed all she could manage. And then, because it was important, she tried for more. ‘Yes, please, Rob. Tonight...tonight I’d like to sleep with you once more.’
* * *
Christmas morning. The first slivers of light were making their way through the shutters Rob had left closed because there was still fire danger. The air was thick with the smell of a charred landscape.
She was lying cocooned in Rob’s arms and for this moment she wanted nothing else. The world could disappear. For this moment the pain had gone, she’d found her island and she was clinging for all she was worth.
He was some island. She stirred just a little, savouring the exquisite sensation of skin against skin—her skin against Rob’s—and she felt him tense a little in response.
‘Good, huh?’
He sounded smug. She’d forgotten that smugness.
She loved that smugness.
‘Bit rusty,’ she managed and he choked on laughter.
‘Rusty? I’ll show you rusty.’ He swung up over the top of her, his dark eyes gleaming with delicious laughter. ‘I’ve been saving myself for you for all this time...’
‘There’s been no one else?’
She shouldn’t have asked. She saw the laughter fade, but the tenderness was there still.
‘I did try,’ he said. ‘I thought I should move on. It was a disaster. You?’
‘I didn’t even try,’ she whispered. ‘I knew it wouldn’t work.’
‘So you were saving yourself for me too.’
‘I was saving myself for nobody.’
‘Well, that sounds a bit bleak. You know, Jules, maybe we should cut ourselves a little slack. Put bleakness behind us for a bit.’
‘For today at least,’ she conceded, and tried to smile back. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas to you, too,’ he said, and the wickedness was back. ‘You want me to give you your first present?’
‘I...’
‘Because I’m about to,’ he said and his gorgeous muscular body, the body she’d loved with all her heart, lowered to hers.
She rose to meet him. Skin against skin. She took his body into her arms and tugged him to her, around her, merging into the warmth and depth of him.
Merry Christmas.
The ghosts had backed off. For now there was only Rob, there was only this moment, there was only now.
* * *
They surfaced—who could say how much later? They were entwined in each other’s bodies, sleepily content, loosely covered by a light cotton sheet. Which was just as well as they emerged to the sound of quiet but desperate sniffs.
Danny.
They rolled as one to look at the door, as they’d done so many times with the twins.
Danny was in the doorway, clutching Luka’s collar. He was wearing a singlet and knickers. His hair was tousled, his eyes were still dazed with sleep but he was sniffing desperately, trying not to cry.
‘Hey,’ Rob said, hauling the sheet a little higher. ‘Danny! What’s up, mate?’
‘Mama’s crying,’ Danny said. ‘She’s crying and crying and she won’t stop.’
‘That’ll be because your house is burned and your dad’s stuck down the mountain,’ Rob said prosaically, as if this was the sort of thing that happened every day. ‘I guess your dad won’t be able to make it here for a while yet, so maybe it’s up to us to cheer her up. What do you think
