nephews?’ she asked.
‘Between six and ten,’ he said. And now he felt even more guilty. Anna was clearly a very hands-on aunt. Just as Hestia had been; she’d always been happy to play games with Josh, Caitlin, Dylan and Layla, and she’d had a stock of books about ballerinas that she’d read to all four of them, saying that ballet wasn’t just for girls. She’d even taught them all some steps, and the kids had loved putting on performances on family Sunday afternoons. She’d taken them to performances, too, and they’d all been spellbound by The Nutcracker. Especially when they’d seen their auntie Hestia dancing on the stage, pirouetting and leaping.
He’d been a hands-on uncle, too, back in those days. He’d read stories, built train tracks and done pretend tea parties with teddies. Hestia’s death had meant that the children had lost their uncle as well as their aunt, and he felt bad about that. For their sakes, he should’ve made more of an effort.
He’d start with Christmas, he decided. This Christmas.
He’d let Anna help him face Christmas again and get his family back; and in turn he’d help her by playing Father Christmas for the ward. OK, so he wasn’t ever going to get to the stage where he could open his heart to another partner, but he knew his family deserved much better than this. He needed to change. And he needed help to do it; on his own, he knew he’d just back away again because it was too hard to face.
‘Mine are a little bit younger—Will’s the oldest, at eight, and Ivy’s the baby. Literally, because she’s six months old next week,’ Anna said. ‘Mum and Dad managed to space us all two years apart, and it seems to be a tradition in my generation that you get to thirty and have a baby.’
Except for her? There was a definite shadow in her eyes now, Jamie thought, but it felt like prying to ask. He didn’t want to hurt her, not when she was being so kind and sweet.
She gave him a super-bright smile. ‘I’ve already bought and wrapped all their main presents so, as I said, I’m looking for stocking-fillers.’
‘You’ve already bought and wrapped everything? But it’s only November,’ he said.
‘It’s December next weekend,’ she corrected. ‘Being organised means I get to find the perfect presents without any pressure and I also have the time to wrap them. My oldest brother refuses to go shopping until the day before Christmas Eve.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘That’d drive me bananas, dealing with the heaving crowds and risking having to rethink what I’m buying because what I want is out of stock.’
‘So you’re a planner?’
‘Better believe it,’ she said with a grin. ‘I have spreadsheets, the lot. I keep a file of exactly what I’ve bought and for whom. It means I don’t accidentally buy the same thing twice for one of my nieces and nephews—or buy the same book for one of the siblings, unless it’s one that’s been loved to bits and I’m replacing it.’ She smiled. ‘Perhaps you can help me look for something.’
Christmas shopping.
Hestia had loved Christmas shopping. She’d loved wrapping the presents, too, all ribbons and bows and garlands. Since her death, Jamie had bought mainly gift vouchers as presents; if he had bought an actual gift, he’d done it online and chosen the ‘wrap it for me’ option rather than doing it himself.
Now he realised how impersonal his actions must have seemed to his family, and he felt ashamed. They loved him and they missed Hestia, too. They’d all felt the loss of the little girl who hadn’t had the chance to join them. He should’ve let them grieve with him instead of pushing them away.
‘Perhaps you can help me, too,’ he suggested.
She beamed. ‘I’d love to. Buying presents is my favourite thing in the world. Right. Tell me all about your nieces and nephews.’
Uh… How did he admit that he didn’t have a clue? That he’d let so much distance creep in between himself and his family that he didn’t know what the kids were interested in any more? And children changed so much at their ages. ‘Dylan’s ten, Layla and Josh are eight, and Caitlin’s six.’
‘Are the girls super-girly? And do they have long hair or short?’ she asked. ‘Because hair ties and hair slides always go down well. Megan’s six and anything heart-shaped or glittery gets pounced on with absolute glee.’
‘Heart-shaped and glittery,’ he said. That hadn’t occurred to him. ‘I think that would be good.’
‘And art stuff. My nieces love paints and pens and notebooks. And books. I know they’ve got a fabulous bookstall here. Do Dylan and Josh like reading?’
‘I think so,’ he said carefully.
‘Let me show you Will’s favourite—he’s the same age as your Josh. And the bookstall people might have a good idea for something suitable for Dylan,’ she said.
Between them, they bought bangles and hair slides and scrunchies from the accessory stall, then moved on to look at the scented candles. Anna pounced on one for her mother. ‘Look at this!’ she said gleefully. ‘Put a tealight in the middle, and the heat makes the carousel spin round with six filigree owls dangling down. My mum loves owls, so she’ll adore this.’
He ended up with organic bath bombs and body butter for his mother and his sisters, ale from a microbrewery for his father and his brothers-in-law, books for all four nieces and nephews, a wooden duck with red Wellington boots for Caitlin, and a beautifully carved and painted wooden turtle for Layla, who he remembered loving the sea life centre when she was younger.
‘What do you get an eight-year-old and a ten-year-old boy?’ he asked.
‘Once you get them off the games console?’ she asked. ‘I’ve already bought Will one of those mini planetarium projectors. I think I saw something similar on one of the stalls earlier.’
‘I think Josh would like that, too,’ he said.
‘And I’m on the look-out for one of the magic science kits—the ones where you use all sorts of household objects to do tricks,’ she said. ‘Like adding vinegar to bicarb soda and a bit of food colouring to make lava.’
‘I think that would go down well with Dylan,’ Will said thoughtfully.
Once they’d finished their shopping, she looked at him. ‘Wrapping paper?’ she asked.
Jamie shook his head. ‘I don’t wrap.’
She grinned. ‘Considering what you do for a living, you really can’t get away with the excuse of not being neat enough.’
He couldn’t help smiling back. ‘There’s a big difference between surgical stitching and wrapping awkward parcels.’
‘Excuses, excuses, Mr Thurston,’ she teased, and made him buy beautiful gift bags and tissue paper.
It was the first time in three years that he’d actually enjoyed something to do with Christmas. His family were all going to be in shock, he thought, when he handed over actual presents instead of the usual envelopes containing gift vouchers. But a good shock. And he might even brave going to see them after his shift on Christmas Day this year, instead of relying on his usual excuse of work. Thanks to Anna’s advice, he was pretty sure that the kids were going to love the stocking-fillers
