Second Chance Under the Mistletoe, page 6
‘Agreed. I have a feeling she might want to—but I won’t push it. Now what else do you want to buy here?’
‘There’s a specialist spice shop I like to visit. Apart from that, let’s just look around and see what takes our fancy.’
‘Your fancy, you mean.’
She laughed, that lovely peal of laughter that warmed his spirits and made other people turn and smile in her direction. ‘You might be right about that.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Natalie was stunned at how easily she slipped into a friendly camaraderie with her ex-husband. She’d been so caught up in the fun of Christmas shopping at the market she hadn’t thought to be on her guard. He made her laugh more than once. And they enjoyed some friendly back-and-forth banter with some of the stall holders.
She bought her spices, the pudding and mince pies, as well as cute cookies in the shape of Christmas trees, decorated with piped icing ornaments. Jon insisted on buying expensive cheeses and an enormous box of handmade chocolates to take to Clem’s, as well as some speciality coffee for himself. They were on their third stall when Natalie realised that people assumed they were a couple. She didn’t dare look at Jon, just let the assumptions wash over them. Until she was dithering over which flavours of festive fudge to buy.
‘What flavour does your husband prefer?’ the stall owner asked.
‘My husband?’
The stall owner indicated Jon.
‘Oh no, he’s not my husband. At least, not any more. I mean—’ Why on earth did she say that? She felt so mortified she could sink through the floor.
‘We’re friends,’ said Jon quickly. ‘Long-time friends. And my favourite is the caramel walnut flavour. But I’ll have a medium-size box of the mixed flavours.’
They were out of sight of the fudge stall when Natalie turned to him. ‘Sorry about that. I got flustered. I didn’t mean to—’
‘Nothing to be sorry about. We’re a similar age. We’re shopping together for Christmas. You’re wearing a wedding ring. It’s not a big jump to assume we’re together.’ He paused. ‘Friends. Do you think we could be friends?’
‘You mean put the past behind us?’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘I’m enjoying today,’ she said slowly.
‘Me too,’ he said.
‘Can I think about it?’ she said.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But in the meantime, even though I’ve sampled everything from chunky chips to paella, I’m starving.’
‘We can buy lunch from the street-food stalls or the more upmarket providores. There’s an area over there where we can sit at a table and eat what we’ve bought. But it’s very crowded today in the run-up to Christmas.’
‘I have a better idea. There’s a marvellous restaurant nearby that serves traditional English meals. It’s something I don’t get much of in Perth and I’ve been there a few times.’
‘How traditional? Like toad-in-the-hole or shepherd’s pie?’
‘More like a superlative roast beef with Yorkshire pudding.’ He paused. ‘You didn’t used to be vegetarian, if I recall correctly. If you are now, I’m sure they would have other choices too.’
It was a reminder of how little they knew about each other’s current lives. And how much she wanted to know more about his. Was he in any way interested in her life or just in terms of how it intersected with Clem’s? Did he feel any of the attraction that surged through her when he was close?
‘The roast beef sounds good to me,’ she said.
The restaurant was all light timbers and glass, white linen and silver service. The Christmas décor was sophisticated and discreet. A welcoming waiter led Natalie and Jon to a circular table for two near a window that looked down to the market below. Natalie was excruciatingly aware that her knees could very easily nudge against Jon’s if she wasn’t careful. She angled them away from him. She didn’t trust herself to touch him, even in the most casual and caress-free manner. Again, the waiter assumed they were husband and wife, but this time Natalie just smiled and didn’t deny it. She didn’t say anything to Jon after the waiter left them. She’d just wear it.
‘This is fabulous.’ She indicated their surrounds with a wave of her hand. ‘I was expecting a pub.’
‘I’m sure the food at the pub downstairs is really good too. I haven’t tried it yet. A business associate first brought me here.’
What business? The credit card he’d used at the market had been issued by a private bank that held accounts only for the very wealthy. She noticed how relaxed and confident he was in this expensive restaurant. Clem had said he might actually be a billionaire, if not close to it in terms of wealth.
She smiled at the way he was so gleefully looking forward to his lunch. She had forgotten his appetite for food when they’d been together, especially when he was doing manual labour. She had never forgotten his other appetites—and how she’d responded to them. She had to take a sip of iced water to hide her blush at the thought.
They ordered a smoked salmon starter to share, followed by roast beef with all the trimmings. ‘And I’m not sharing that,’ Jon said, and she laughed.
‘This will be a treat,’ she said.
She hadn’t cooked a roast since she’d been on her own. She wouldn’t bother just for herself. If Clem was visiting, it was too much for just the two of them. Tyler had enjoyed her meals, particularly her roasts. Before too long she’d be cooking for Tyler’s child when he or she (Clem didn’t want to know the gender until the birth) visited her. Tyler’s parents wanted to take an active role in their grandchild’s care too. Of course they’d want to. It must seem like a miracle to have some part of their son living on.
‘What do you want to be called by our grandchild?’ she asked Jon as they nibbled on smoked salmon.
‘That’s an out-of-the-blue question,’ he said.
‘I know. But Grandpa and Grandma seem kind of old for us, don’t you think? So do Nanny and Pop.’
‘I can’t say I’ve given it any thought. I’m just thrilled about having a grandchild and being part of Clem’s life.’
‘True,’ she said.
‘Why don’t you wait and see after the baby’s born? Clem might have ideas too.’ He paused. ‘How about Natty instead of nanny?’
‘Natty?’ She laughed. ‘You know, that might not be completely out of the question.’
‘I get called Jonno a lot by Australians. But that’s not very grandfatherly. I want to be known as a proud grandparent.’
‘Because you feel you missed out on recognition as a father?’
He stilled and his jaw tightened. ‘Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve always thought of myself as a father—Clem’s father—even though she probably thought of Hugo as her father.’ He shrugged. ‘And to be fair, he did bring her up.’ He made the words casual but she could sense the pain behind them.
‘Clem told me you were married again for a while but didn’t have any other children,’ she said. ‘Why was that?’
He drummed his fingers on the tablecloth, without replying. She wondered if he realised he was doing it.
She hastily added, ‘You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’
After a long moment, he answered. ‘I couldn’t be a proper father to Clem and I felt bad about that. I didn’t think it would be right to have another child. Especially with my erratic lifestyle.’
‘I see,’ she said slowly, not sure what else she could say. ‘Did your wife feel the same?’
Funny, she didn’t actually like the words ‘your wife’ when they were applied to anyone else but her. Which was all kinds of crazy.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, that is.’
‘She said she didn’t want kids. Then she changed her mind, but I didn’t change mine. But no matter what, it wouldn’t have worked. The marriage was a mistake,’ he said, tight-lipped.
It was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything more. Natalie wished she hadn’t asked. She wouldn’t dare now ask if he had a girlfriend. Turned out she didn’t need to. He brought up the subject himself.
‘What about you? You didn’t have a child with Hugo.’
‘It didn’t happen,’ she said.
She would have liked another child, for Clem’s sake more than her own. But after she’d finally got over the post-partum depression, after she’d stopped the medication, her brain fog had cleared and she’d realised she’d been railroaded into being with Hugo by both him and her parents. She didn’t want to give him a child ‘of his own’—that would have rounded off too nicely his plans for her life. As a private act of rebellion and—in some way—punishment, she had told him she wasn’t ready. She was still young and had many childbearing years ahead of her. As it turned out, when she’d settled into the marriage and agreed to try for a child, Hugo’s low sperm count had put paid to his prospects of parenthood. He had refused the intrusive surgeries that might have helped to solve the problem.
‘Okay,’ said Jon, obviously recognising her reluctance to elaborate further about the child issue. ‘It’s been some time since Hugo died. Have you met anyone else?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I haven’t dated. I don’t want to. Not yet. Not now. Maybe not ever.’
‘Still too soon?’
‘Yes. Though I’m not in any rush to get tied down in a relationship again. When you think of it, I never got a chance to be independent. Now’s my chance.’ And she was loving it. Although there were times she was lonely and found herself talking too much to Freddie.
‘I get it.’
‘What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?’
‘Not at the moment. I don’t like to get tied down either.’
‘I guess with all your travel that makes sense.’
She wasn’t sure what else she could say. Nothing she’d learned about life had prepared her for this situation that Clem’s reunion with her father had thrown her into.
Here she sat—to an onlooker it would appear as if she were on a date—chatting politely with her ex-husband, a man who had once meant everything to her. Yet she was like one of those swans on the river, gliding nonchalantly on the surface, paddling furiously below trying to figure out how to handle the undercurrents.
Jon—Jay Jay—was her first lover, the man she had adored and thought she’d be married to for life, the father of her child. The marriage had broken up under extremely painful circumstances. It had sent her hurtling into a relationship with an older man, whom she’d liked rather than loved, for the sake of security for her child. And, to be perfectly honest, for herself.
At that time she’d been in no fit condition to bring Clem up on her own—even with the money Jon had sent regularly every month. Her parents had made it very clear they didn’t want her living with them for any longer than was absolutely necessary. She’d had to pull herself up onto her own two feet and stop expecting them to rescue her. Or agree to marry that nice Hugo who was prepared to take on another man’s child and would give her a good life. A better life than ‘that reprobate Grayson boy’ would ever have been able to give her. It was ironic really—while Hugo had made a very good living and left her comfortably off, the ‘reprobate’ was now extremely wealthy.
Trouble was, she’d loved that Grayson boy, who had made her his with their first ever kiss. While kissing that nice Hugo was pleasant but lacking in passion. She had grown to care deeply for Hugo but she knew, deep in her heart, she had never felt for him what she had felt for Jay Jay. Nowhere near it.
Right now, she had to sit here at this table with Jon and pretend to be impartial, not to feel even the slightest pang at the thought of him with another woman, another wife. To rein in her regrets.
She couldn’t deny she found the mature Jon every bit as sexually appealing as she had found him at nineteen and had relived in her fantasies over the years. He was still smoulderingly attractive—more so perhaps. But other feelings she’d thought were long buried had not been extinguished, as she’d thought, but rather suppressed. Spending time with Jon was bringing them bubbling rather too uncomfortably to the surface. She was thoroughly enjoying his company. But could she risk a friendship with him? He was still a stranger in many ways.
Thankfully, before she could think of something meaningful to say, the meal arrived, served with a flourish. It tasted every bit as good as it looked.
‘This is the best roast beef I’ve ever had. Without a doubt,’ she said. ‘And the Yorkshires are perfect. Thank you for bringing me here.’
‘I’m glad you like it,’ he said, looking pleased.
They ate in companionable silence. Finally Natalie pushed her plate away—replete, unable to finish her meal. If it had been Hugo opposite her, she would have asked him if he wanted to finish hers.
‘Dessert?’ Jon asked.
‘No, thank you. First, because I couldn’t eat another bite, and second, because we want to continue with our Christmas festivities.’
‘Where to next? I’m putting myself into your hands.’
She had to clear her throat before she could reply to that tempting invitation.
‘First thing after lunch we drop our shopping from the market back at your place. I thought then we could walk around this part of London, crane our necks to look up at the Shard, for instance, which is all lit up for Christmas. The South Bank isn’t far and the markets along the riverside walk there are really nice. After that, we could cross the bridge to catch the Christmas market at Trafalgar Square with the big Christmas tree.’
‘More shopping?’
‘But different. Stocking fillers, handicrafts, decorations, knickknacks. That’s the kind of thing they have at Christmas markets. Probably more looking than buying for me, to be honest—and the atmosphere. Except for the churros—you can’t miss out on a churro with cinnamon sugar and chocolate sauce. Then, if you’re up for it, we can head into Covent Garden and Regent Street. I like the lights there the best and if you’re in London, you can’t miss them. Oxford Street too, but it gets really crowded. I’m happy to miss Oxford Street.’
‘Even more shopping?’ he said.
She smiled at the plaintive note in his voice. ‘I’ve done my shopping.’ Except for something for Jon. When she was shopping in Guildford, she’d had no idea she would have to buy a present for her ex-husband. But she couldn’t be without a gift for him on Christmas Day. That wouldn’t be in the Christmas spirit.
‘I might need some help in getting a gift for Clem,’ he said. ‘I brought Argyle pink diamond earrings for her with me from Perth. But I don’t know that it’s enough.’
‘Diamond earrings? I’m sure she’ll love them.’
‘Well, if you see something extra you think she’d like to have, let me know,’ he said.
Natalie thought she could ask the same of him, but she didn’t think it appropriate. Yet she could hardly buy him underpants or socks.
‘Then I thought, for our next meet-up, I’m giving you a choice,’ she said. ‘You mentioned ice skating.’
‘I haven’t skated for years, but I’d like that.’
‘There’s a choice of ice-skating venues in London. Somerset House ice rink isn’t far. Hyde Park has ice skating, fairground-type rides, food, a party atmosphere.’
‘You don’t sound all that enthusiastic.’
‘Don’t I? I mean to be. It’s wonderful. Hyde Park itself is lovely, as you know.’
‘But…?’
‘I think it’s really more fun for kids.’
‘Not so much for grown-ups like us?’
‘I’m wondering if you might rather go to Hampton Court Palace. There’s an ice rink and the Christmas fair is on this week. It’s so beautiful I love to go there any time. Who wouldn’t? It’s a magnificent Tudor palace, home of Henry the Eighth, and the gardens are beautiful. But at Christmas it’s extra special. It’s outside London though.’
‘Not so far out of London. I last went there on a school excursion many years ago. You’ve sold me.’
‘Day after tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Suits me,’ he said.
CHAPTER SIX
Jon looked down into Natalie’s smiling face; it pleased him to see her looking relaxed and happy. Daylight was fading and she was lit by the vertical strings of lights on the giant Trafalgar Square Christmas tree. Other lights illuminated the National Gallery, Nelson’s Column and the fountains. More festive lights were strung around the wooden chalets of the Christmas market.
Crowds were milling about, but he and Natalie had found a quieter corner away from the market from where they could observe and listen to the different choirs that were singing carols at the base of the Christmas tree. Natalie had just finished the churros he had bought them from one of the stalls.
‘See, I told you these were delicious,’ she said.
There was a dusting of cinnamon sugar on her lips. Jon had to fight the urge to gently wipe it off with his thumb. He pummelled down on the thought of how sweet it would be to kiss that sugar off. Natalie was off-limits and to think any differently could be dangerous. If he met her now, he’d be pursuing her, that was for sure. She was gorgeous. But she wasn’t a lovely, eligible woman his own age he’d met at a party or on a dating app. She was his ex-wife. And she came with all sorts of heavy baggage—on both their sides. He had gone into this time spent together to keep her on side for his relationship with Clem. That was all—and he couldn’t risk jeopardising that.
‘The churros were indeed delicious,’ he said. He paused. ‘But you haven’t quite finished yours.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You have some cinnamon sugar on your lips.’
Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Where? Here?’
‘Further to the left.’
‘Here?’
‘You’ve missed a bit.’
She wiped her lips with the tip of her tongue, which nearly undid him. ‘All gone?’
‘All gone,’ he said.
‘Well, I hate to do tit for tat, but you have a smear of chocolate sauce on your cheek.’
