Fairytale With The Single Dad. Alison Roberts

me a day or two and I’ll check.’

      ‘That’s very kind of you.’

      She kept her eyes on the road, trying not to think too hard about going up into the attic to open those boxes. Would the clothes still have Olivia’s scent? Would seeing them, touching them, be too painful? There was a reason they were still in the attic. Unsorted.

      She’d boxed everything up one day, after a therapist at one of her grief counselling sessions had told her it might be a good thing to do. That it might be cathartic, or something.

      It hadn’t been.

      She’d felt that in boxing up her daughter’s clothes and putting them somewhere they couldn’t be seen she was also been getting rid of all traces of her daughter. That she was hiding Olivia’s memory away. And she’d not been ready. She’d drunk an awful lot of wine that night, and had staggered up into the attic to drag all the boxes back downstairs, but Alastair had stopped her. Yelled at her that it was a good thing, and that if she touched those boxes one more time then he would walk out the door.

      She’d sobered up and the next morning had left the boxes up there—even though she’d felt bereft and distraught. And dreadfully hungover.

      Alastair had left eventually, of course. Just not then. It had taken a few more weeks. By then it had been too late to drag the boxes back down. Too scary.

      ‘What was she like?’

      ‘Hmm?’ She was pulled back to the present by his question. ‘What?’

      ‘What was Olivia like?’ he asked again.

      She glanced over at him quickly. He sounded as if he really wanted to know, and no one had asked her that question for years. All this time she’d stayed away from people, not making connections or getting close because she hadn’t wanted to talk about Olivia. It had been too painful. But now she wanted to talk about her. Was thrilled that he’d asked, because she was ready to talk about her. He’d made it easy to do so.

      ‘She was…amazing.’

      ‘Who’s Olivia?’ asked Anna from the back seat.

      Sydney glanced in the rearview mirror once again and smiled.

      The donkey was called Bert and he had a beautiful dark brown coat. The farmer had already got him saddled before their arrival and he stood waiting patiently, nibbling at some hay, as Sydney gave Anna instructions.

      ‘Okay, it’s quite simple, Anna. You don’t need Bert to go fast, so you don’t need to nudge him with your feet or kick at his sides. A slow plod is what we want, and Bert here is an expert at the slow plod and the Christmas nativity.’

      ‘Will he bite me?’

      She shook her head. ‘No. He’s very gentle and he is used to children riding him. Shall I lift you into the saddle?’

      Anna nodded.

      Sydney hefted Anna up. ‘Put your hands here, on the pommel. I’ll lead him with the reins—the way we’ll get the boy playing Joseph to do it.’

      ‘Okay.’

      ‘Verbal commands work best, and Bert responds to Go on when you want him to start walking and Stop when you want him to stand still. Got that?’

      Anna nodded again.

      ‘Why don’t you give that a try?’

      Anna smiled. ‘Go on, Bert!’

      Bert started moving.

      ‘He’s doing it, Sydney! He’s doing it! Look, Daddy—I’m riding!’

      ‘That’s brilliant, sweetheart.’

      Sydney led Bert down the short side of the field. She turned to check on Anna. ‘That’s it. Keep your back straight…don’t slouch.’

      They walked up and down. Up and down. Until Sydney thought Anna was ready to try and do it on her own. She’d certainly picked it up a lot more quickly than Olivia had!

      ‘Okay, Anna. Try it on your own. Head to the end of the field and use the reins to turn him and make him come back. Talk to him. Encourage him. Okay?’

      She knew Anna could do it. The little girl had connected with the donkey in a way no other had, and the animal responded brilliantly to her. Sydney really didn’t think Anna would have a problem on the night of the nativity. Bert was putty in her hands.

      They both stood and watched as Anna led Bert confidently away from them and down the field. Sydney almost felt proud. In fact, she was proud.

      She became aware that Nathan was staring at her, and then suddenly, almost in a blink, she felt his fingers sliding around hers.

      ‘Thank you, Sydney.’

      She turned to him and looked into his eyes. The intensity of the moment grew. It felt as if her heart had sped up but her breathing had got really slow. Her fingers in his felt protected and safe, and he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb in slow, sweeping strokes that were doing strange, chaotic things to her insides, turning her legs to jelly.

      ‘What for?’ she managed to say.

      ‘For helping me when it’s difficult for you. I appreciate the time you’re giving me and my daughter. I…’

      He stopped talking as he took a step closer to her, and as he drew near her breathing stopped completely and she looked up into his handsome blue eyes.

      He’s going to kiss me!

      Hadn’t she thought about this? Hadn’t she wondered what it might be like? Hadn’t she missed the physical contact that came with being in a relationship? And now here was this man—this incredibly attractive man—holding her hand and making her stomach do twirls and swirls as his lips neared hers, as he leaned in for a kiss…

      Sydney closed her eyes, awaiting the press of his lips against hers.

      Only there was no kiss.

      She felt him pull his hand free from hers and heard him clearing his throat and apologising before he called out, ‘You’re doing brilliantly, Anna! Turn him round now—come on. We need to go home.’

      Sydney blinked. What had happened? He’d been about to kiss her, hadn’t he? And she’d stood there, like an idiot, waiting for him to do it.

      How embarrassing!

      Anna brought Bert to a halt beside them, beaming widely.

      ‘I think that’s enough for today. You’ve done really well, Anna.’

      Anna beamed as her father helped her off the donkey, and then she ran straight to Sydney and wrapped her arms around her. ‘Thanks, Sydney! You’re the best!’

      Sydney froze at the unexpected hug, but then she relaxed and hugged the little girl back, swallowing back her surprise and…for some reason…her tears. ‘So are you.’

      The farmer took Bert back to his field with the other donkeys, once he’d removed the saddle and tack, and Sydney and Anna said goodbye. Then they all got back into Sydney’s car and she started to drive them home.

      ‘Thank you for…er…what you’ve done for Anna today,’ said Nathan.

      She took a breath and bit back the retort she wanted to give. ‘No problem.’

      ‘You know…taking time out of your weekend…’

      ‘Sydney could stay for dinner, couldn’t she Daddy? We’re having fajitas!’ Anna invited from the back.

      She would have loved nothing more than to stay. Her time spent with Anna had been wonderful, and the times when she’d looked across at Nathan and caught him looking at her had been weirdly wonderful and exciting too.