Midwives' Christmas Miracles. Tina Beckett

‘Don’t give her any ideas. One day it’s a bichon frise, the next it’s a terrier, the next a Havanese. Let’s remember that most places we’ll be renting won’t accept pets. I keep trying to tell her that.’

      He smiled conspiratorially at Freya and pretend whispered to her. ‘I think you need to tell Mummy to find a house that takes dogs.’ She almost fell over. She hadn’t thought he had it in him. Jacob was full of surprises.

      He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a silver tray. ‘Do you want to have fish too? My housekeeper seems to have bought plenty. She seems to have decided to feed me up. It will only take fifteen minutes.’ He slid the sea bass into the oven next to Freya’s fish fingers, then grabbed an oven tray, covered it in silver foil and tipped something from a plastic tub into it. He gave a shrug, ‘Mediterranean crushed potatoes. I’m rubbish at shopping and cooking. My housekeeper always makes a few back-up meals for me. She says it’s the only time my kitchen is put to good use.’

      She gave an awkward nod and sat up on one of the stools, warming her hands on her teacup. This was all a little strange.

      Jacob looked at her as he poured himself some wine. ‘You okay?’

      She sighed. ‘It’s been a big day. This morning I dropped my daughter at a brand-new school, took a bus ride through an unfamiliar city, was late for my first day at work. Accepted a temporary promotion, helped at the scene of an accident and moved into my boss’s home. All in one day.’

      He sipped his wine. ‘I think I’ve got this one covered for you.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ She was curious.

      He gave a little smile. ‘One of my good friends is Scottish. I think this could be the “I’m completely knackered” answer.’

      She burst out laughing and Freya’s mouth hung open. ‘What a terrible accent!’ She lifted her cup of tea towards him. ‘But the word is perfect, and, yes, it is the one I would have chosen. I’m completely and utterly knackered. I can’t wait to climb into bed with Freya and go to sleep. I can guarantee you—we won’t wake up until the alarm goes off.’

      Something flickered across his face. ‘I’m just glad that Freya will sleep safely. You must have had nightmares last night.’

      She hesitated and gave a grateful nod. ‘Jacob, we can’t stay here without giving you some money. Can I give you what we would have paid for the motel?’

      ‘No.’ His answer came out a bit sharply and she started.

      ‘It only seems fair,’ she said slowly. ‘I know we’re imposing and you’ve already gone to too much trouble for us.’ She gestured towards the oven. ‘The food that you bought. I’ll feel really uncomfortable if you don’t let me contribute.’

      He took a sip of his wine. ‘Then feel really uncomfortable—because I won’t. It’s only temporary. You’ll find somewhere to stay soon. It’s only a stopgap to give you some breathing space. We both know that. And anyway—you’ll buy your own food for yourself and Freya. I just thought you wouldn’t have had much opportunity between arriving last night and coming to work today.’ He gave a shrug of his shoulders. ‘I don’t want the new sister of the labour suite passing out from hunger tomorrow.’

      He was so matter-of-fact about it. He made it sound so reasonable. Even though she knew it really wasn’t.

      She held up her cup of tea towards his. ‘Thank you. But you need to know—I won’t let this go. I’ll keep hounding you.’

      He clinked his glass against her cup. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

      * * *

      His eyes connected with Bonnie’s. That was the difference between herself and her daughter. Bonnie’s eyes were deep blue—almost hypnotising. Freya’s were the more traditional pale blue.

      From the second he’d offered her a place to stay he’d wanted to drag the words back. His stomach had churned and he’d conjured up a million different excuses to try to back out. But his integrity wouldn’t let him—that, and the relieved expression on Bonnie’s face when he’d made the offer. His guts had twisted at the thought of people in his home. His private place. But it wasn’t quite as bad as he’d imagined. It was odd. The last person he’d shared a house with had been his father. It was amazing how long two people could live together while barely talking. Particularly when he’d told his father he wasn’t the following the military family tradition and was going into medicine instead. His father had barely looked him in the eye after that.

      Before dinner he led them through the rest of the house, showing them a dining room, the door to his study, the downstairs cloakroom and the back sitting room and conservatory.

      ‘This house is just amazing, Jacob, and it’s so close to the city centre. What do they call this street—millionaire row?’ She was joking but he could see the weariness in her eyes. She’d been uprooted from a familiar home and ended up in a bad motel. Now she was going to be spending the next few weeks scouring around for houses to rent or buy, trying to work out if it was in an area she’d want her and Freya to stay in. All in the run-up to Christmas. Her brain must be currently whirring.

      He laughed. ‘No. Not quite. I bought it around ten years ago before the prices went crazy. It needed a lot of fixing up and I’ve just done a little bit at a time.’

      ‘Well, I think you’ve done a good job. I hope I’ll get a chance to have a walk around the area in the next few days. It would be good to get a bit more familiar with Cambridge.’

      ‘If I get a chance, I’ll show you and Freya around. Point out the places to visit and the places to avoid.’ Where had that come from? It was so unlike him. He’d spent the last year living his life in a bubble. Hardly any interaction with friends and colleagues. The few people that he’d confided in about his condition had all offered to help in any way that they could. But offers of help made him feel vulnerable, at risk even.

      Jacob had got through this life shutting off his feelings from the world. He hadn’t even properly mourned the death of his mother. That wasn’t the Layton way. Or so his father had told him. He’d very much instilled the stiff-upper-lip mentality into his son.

      And even after all these years it was still there. It was partly the reason he’d never had a lasting relationship. He’d shuttered himself away for so long it felt normal now. And after a while his friends had stopped offering any assistance. Eventually even good friends got tired of being rebuffed.

      Bonnie gave him a smile. ‘Thanks, Jacob. That’s really nice of you to offer.’

      The timer on the oven sounded and Bonnie helped him to put the food onto plates. Instead of moving to the dining room, they stayed at the more informal island in the kitchen. By now, Freya was desperate to see the old kennel outside and invented an imaginary dog for her stay. But it was already dark and after she’d finished her fish fingers her little head started to nod.

      Bonnie wrapped her arm around Freya’s shoulders. ‘I think it’s time to get a little girl into her bath and into bed. To be honest, I could do with an early night myself. Once I’ve helped you clear up I think we’ll both go to bed.’ She stood up and gave him a wink. ‘I don’t want to be late for work tomorrow.’ She gave a fake roll of her eyes. ‘You’ve no idea what the boss is like.’

      He let out a laugh and lifted the plates. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve heard about him. Forget about clearing up. I’ll dump the dishes in the dishwasher and we’re done.’

      ‘You’re sure?’ She’d already picked up Freya and the little girl had snuggled into her shoulder.

      ‘I’m sure. Goodnight, Bonnie. Goodnight, Freya.’ It was odd—for the first time in a long time, Jacob actually felt at peace.

      Then Bonnie spoiled it. She fixed on him with her unblinking blue eyes. ‘Goodnight, Jacob, and thank you,’ then turned and walked up the stairs.

      There was nothing surer.