try to hide her scepticism.
‘Besides,’ Joe added smoothly, ‘you and I decided on a truce, and how can you have a truce between two people if one of the combatants simply walks away?’
As excuses went, this was on the shaky side too, but Ellie wasn’t going to argue. Not if Joe was determined to uphold their truce. And not when he’d gone to so much trouble and expense to celebrate Christmas with her and Jacko.
‘Come on,’ he said, hefting the white box of cold stores. ‘Let’s see what Steve’s managed to find.’
* * *
The packages were piled into the kitchen and it was just like opening Christmas presents a day early.
In the box from the cold stores, nestling in a bed of ice, they found the most fantastic array of seafood—export quality banana prawns, bright red lobsters, a slab of Tasmanian smoked salmon, even a mud crab.
‘I may have slightly over-catered,’ Joe said with a wry grin. ‘But seafood always looks a lot bigger in the shell.’
In another cold bag there was a lovely heritage Berkshire ham from the Tablelands. This brought yet another grin from Joe. ‘If the wet closes in again, we’ll be OK for ham sandwiches.’
The rest of the produce was just as amazing—rosy old-fashioned tomatoes that actually smelled the way tomatoes were supposed to smell; bright green fresh asparagus, crispy butter-crunch lettuce, further packets of salad greens, a big striped watermelon. There were even Californian cherries, all the way from the USA.
In yet another box there were jars of mustard, mayonnaise and marmalade. Pickles and quince paste from the Barossa Valley. Boxes of party fun—bonbons and sparklers, whistles and glow sticks.
And there was a plum pudding and brandy cream, and a bottle of classic French champagne, and another whole case of wine of a much classier vintage than the wines Ellie had bought.
She thanked Joe profusely. In fact, on more than one occasion, she almost hugged him, but somehow she managed to restrain herself. Joe might have been incredibly, over-the-top generous, but Ellie was quite sure a newly ex-wife should not hug the ex-husband she’d so recently served with divorce papers.
It was important to remember that their Christmas truce was nothing more than a temporary cessation of hostilities—temporary being the operative word.
Ellie forced her mind to safer practical matters—like what they were going to do with the stuffed chicken and shortbread dough sitting in the fridge.
‘We’ll have them tonight,’ suggested Joe. ‘They’ll be perfect for Christmas Eve.’
So the chicken and assorted roast vegetables, followed by shortbread cookies for dessert, became indeed the perfect Christmas Eve fare.
A cool breeze arrived in the late afternoon, whisking away the muddy aroma, so Ellie set a small table on the veranda where they ate in the gathering dusk, sharing their meal with Jacko.
Joe stuck coloured glow sticks into the pot plants along the verandah, lending a touch of magic to the warm summer’s night.
Jacko was enchanted.
Ellie was enchanted too, as she sipped a glass of chilled New Zealand white wine, one of Joe’s selections.
She had spent the past four years working so hard on Karinya—getting up at dawn, spending long days out in the paddocks overseeing the needs of her cattle, and then, after Jacko was born, fitting in as much time as possible to be with him as well.
Most nights, she’d fallen into bed exhausted. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to take time out to party.
Putting Jacko to bed on Christmas Eve was fun, even though he didn’t really understand her explanation about the pillowslip at the end of his cot. He would soon work it out in the morning, and Ellie’s sense of bubbling anticipation was enough enthusiasm for both of them.
When she tiptoed out of Jacko’s room, she found Joe on the veranda, leaning on the railing again and looking out at the few brave stars that peeked between the lingering clouds.
He turned to her. ‘So when do you fill Jacko’s stocking?’
She smiled. ‘I’ve never played Santa before, so I’m not exactly an expert, but I guess I should wait till I’m sure he’s well and truly asleep. Maybe I’ll do the deed just before I go to bed.’
‘I’d like to make a contribution,’ Joe said, sounding just a shade uncertain. ‘I asked Steve to collect something for Jacko.’
‘OK. That’s nice. But you can put it under the tree and give it to him in the morning.’
‘I’d like to show it to you now. You might want to throw it in with the Father Christmas booty.’
‘Oh, there’s no need—’
But already Joe was beckoning Ellie to follow him inside, into the study, where he promptly shut the door behind them.
‘This makes a bit of a noise and I don’t want to wake him.’ He was trying to sound casual, but he couldn’t quite hide the excitement in his eyes.
Intrigued, Ellie watched as he pulled a box from beneath the desk and proceeded to open it.
‘Oh, wow!’ she breathed as Joe drew out the world’s cutest toy puppy. ‘A Border Collie. How gorgeous. It looks so real.’ She touched the soft, furry, black and white coat. ‘It almost feels real and it’s so cuddly. Jacko will love it!’
‘Watch this.’ Joe pressed a button in the puppy’s stomach and set it on the ground. Immediately, it sat up and barked, then dropped back to all fours and began to scamper across the floor.
‘Oh, my goodness.’ Ellie laughed. ‘It’s amazing.’
The puppy bumped into the desk, backed away and then proceeded to run around in circles.
‘I knew Jacko was too little for a real dog,’ Joe said. ‘But I thought this might be the next best thing.’
‘It is. It’s gorgeous. He’ll be over the moon.’ The presents I bought won’t be half as exciting.
Joe was clearly pleased with her reaction. ‘One of the guys in our unit bought a toy like this for his kid’s birthday, and his wife put a movie of the boy and the puppy on the Internet. It was so damn cute it more or less went viral at the base.’
‘I can imagine.’ Ellie was touched by how pleased Joe looked, as if it was really important to find the right gift for his son.
‘The other present I brought back with me was totally unsuitable,’ he said. ‘A kite. What was I thinking?’
‘A kite from Afghanistan?’
Joe rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Yeah.’
‘But their kites are supposed to be beautiful, aren’t they?’
‘Well, yes, that’s true, and it’s a national pastime for the kids over
