Read Online Christmas-Eve Baby by Caroline Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Caroline Anderson
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give me time to get home and eat something.’
‘No. I’ll feed you.’
‘Seven-thirty, then,’ she agreed, because for some perverse reason she wanted to go home after her surgery, shower and change into something—well, something else. Something pretty. Something that didn’t make her feel like a heffalump.
She walked him back down to Reception, sent him on his way and went into her consulting room, watching him through the window as he got into his BMW and drove away.
It was nearly five. The lights were on in the village, twinkling all around the harbour and giving it a cosy feel, and she could imagine how it must be to enter the harbour mouth and see the lights of home ahead of you.
Safe. Reassuring.
And unaccountably she thought of Ben. Her eyes tracked to his car, following the lights out of the village, alongHarbour Road, up Bridge Street and past her front door, out of sight.
Two and a half hours, she told herself, and felt a little shiver of something she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
‘Kate?’
The knock on the door came again, and Kate opened it to find Nick standing there, hands rammed deep into his pockets, a brooding look on his face. She frowned in concern.
‘Nick—hi. What can I do for you?’
‘Oh, I was just— I’ve been clearing the last of the things out of the house. It seems so odd—end of an era. The agent’s expecting a good turn-out at the auction, but I’ve told him to lower the reserve. He was putting a high one on with a view to marketing it in the spring if it doesn’t go, but I told him no. I just want it gone.’
‘And you’re feeling lost.’
‘Not at all. Has to be done,’ he said briskly.
But Kate knew him better than he knew himself, she sometimes thought, and she knew just how hard he’d be finding this. His mother’s family home, the place he’d been born and raised in, the house his father had been living in at his death. The sale had been a long time coming, but he’d got there in the end. Maybe he’d always imagined retiring there with Annabel in the future, but of course that wouldn’t happen now, and the pointlessness of owning it had gradually come home to him.
Poor Nick. He’d lost so much. ‘I’m sure the sale will be a great success,’ she said just as briskly. ‘Some Londoner who wants to divide their time—someone with a family who’ll come down and spend quality time together, bring it to lifeagain. Just what it needs, and you’ll be able to take a nice long holiday on the proceeds. Got time for coffee?’
‘I suppose so. Thanks—yes, coffee would be lovely.’
He followed her through to the kitchen and propped himself up against the island unit, watching her while she made their drinks. ‘Where’s Jem?’ he asked.
‘In bed—Nick, it’s nearly ten.’
‘Is it?’ He sounded startled, and checked his watch disbelievingly. ‘So it is. I’m sorry—want me to go?’
‘No, you’re fine,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and sit down.’
She handed him his coffee and led him through to the sitting room. He sat beside her on the sofa, propping his feet on the box that served as a coffee-table and resting his head back with a sigh. ‘I’m bushed,’ he confessed.
‘Of course you are. Clearing the house was always going to be hard. You should have asked for help.’
‘No.’
Nothing else, just the one word. Then he sat up straighter and looked down into his coffee. ‘Do you know where Lucy is?’
‘At home in bed, I imagine, if she’s got any sense.’
‘Her car’s not at the surgery. It’s always there.’
‘Perhaps she’s out meeting friends. Maybe they’ve gone out for a meal or something. She sometimes goes out with Chloe and Lauren.’
‘But if she’s not—if she’s in trouble…’
‘Nick, she’s fine.’
‘I’m going to ring her.’
‘No. Let me do it. If you really insist, let me do it. She won’t bite my head off.’
She put her coffee down, got up and went into the
‘No. I’ll feed you.’
‘Seven-thirty, then,’ she agreed, because for some perverse reason she wanted to go home after her surgery, shower and change into something—well, something else. Something pretty. Something that didn’t make her feel like a heffalump.
She walked him back down to Reception, sent him on his way and went into her consulting room, watching him through the window as he got into his BMW and drove away.
It was nearly five. The lights were on in the village, twinkling all around the harbour and giving it a cosy feel, and she could imagine how it must be to enter the harbour mouth and see the lights of home ahead of you.
Safe. Reassuring.
And unaccountably she thought of Ben. Her eyes tracked to his car, following the lights out of the village, alongHarbour Road, up Bridge Street and past her front door, out of sight.
Two and a half hours, she told herself, and felt a little shiver of something she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
‘Kate?’
The knock on the door came again, and Kate opened it to find Nick standing there, hands rammed deep into his pockets, a brooding look on his face. She frowned in concern.
‘Nick—hi. What can I do for you?’
‘Oh, I was just— I’ve been clearing the last of the things out of the house. It seems so odd—end of an era. The agent’s expecting a good turn-out at the auction, but I’ve told him to lower the reserve. He was putting a high one on with a view to marketing it in the spring if it doesn’t go, but I told him no. I just want it gone.’
‘And you’re feeling lost.’
‘Not at all. Has to be done,’ he said briskly.
But Kate knew him better than he knew himself, she sometimes thought, and she knew just how hard he’d be finding this. His mother’s family home, the place he’d been born and raised in, the house his father had been living in at his death. The sale had been a long time coming, but he’d got there in the end. Maybe he’d always imagined retiring there with Annabel in the future, but of course that wouldn’t happen now, and the pointlessness of owning it had gradually come home to him.
Poor Nick. He’d lost so much. ‘I’m sure the sale will be a great success,’ she said just as briskly. ‘Some Londoner who wants to divide their time—someone with a family who’ll come down and spend quality time together, bring it to lifeagain. Just what it needs, and you’ll be able to take a nice long holiday on the proceeds. Got time for coffee?’
‘I suppose so. Thanks—yes, coffee would be lovely.’
He followed her through to the kitchen and propped himself up against the island unit, watching her while she made their drinks. ‘Where’s Jem?’ he asked.
‘In bed—Nick, it’s nearly ten.’
‘Is it?’ He sounded startled, and checked his watch disbelievingly. ‘So it is. I’m sorry—want me to go?’
‘No, you’re fine,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and sit down.’
She handed him his coffee and led him through to the sitting room. He sat beside her on the sofa, propping his feet on the box that served as a coffee-table and resting his head back with a sigh. ‘I’m bushed,’ he confessed.
‘Of course you are. Clearing the house was always going to be hard. You should have asked for help.’
‘No.’
Nothing else, just the one word. Then he sat up straighter and looked down into his coffee. ‘Do you know where Lucy is?’
‘At home in bed, I imagine, if she’s got any sense.’
‘Her car’s not at the surgery. It’s always there.’
‘Perhaps she’s out meeting friends. Maybe they’ve gone out for a meal or something. She sometimes goes out with Chloe and Lauren.’
‘But if she’s not—if she’s in trouble…’
‘Nick, she’s fine.’
‘I’m going to ring her.’
‘No. Let me do it. If you really insist, let me do it. She won’t bite my head off.’
She put her coffee down, got up and went into the
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