Scarlet Wilson

A Family Made At Christmas


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lady?’

      Riley shifted on the bed. ‘The lady?’

      ‘The pretty one with the blonde hair. Is she your girlfriend?’ There was an almost hopeful edge to Finn’s voice.

      Riley followed Finn’s gaze. April was talking quietly with the foster mum, scribbling down a few more notes. He wasn’t quite sure what to say.

      Something washed over him as he watched the expression on Finn’s face. He was right on Riley’s knee but it was almost as if he were trying to anchor himself. Finn had spent his whole life brought up by his mum and, from the sound of it, mainly in the company of her friends. His heart squeezed. That was why he was looking at April.

      He was used to being with women. Being in the company of a male from this point onwards would be a huge deal for Finn. Riley squeezed his eyes closed for the briefest of seconds as he remembered all the things his mum used to do with him and his brother as kids. Climbing into bed for cuddles, secret cake baking, her patience with homework, and the way one look could let him know that everything would be all right. It was only in the last few years he’d realised that even though she could be overpowering, how central she’d been for him and his brother. Finn had lost that. He’d lost his central point. Could Riley ever hope to become that person for Finn? Or would he always look for a mother figure in his life?

      Riley’s skin was pale. ‘That’s April. She’s my...friend.’ Was she? ‘She works with me at the hospital. She’s a physiotherapist. She helps people get well again. Sometimes she has to help them walk again.’ It seemed the simplest explanation.

      Finn frowned. ‘If Uncle Dan is in Afghanistan, will you have to go there too?’ His voice had a little tremble. ‘What will happen to me?’

      And, just like that, the thoughts from last night filled his brain again.

      He loved his job. He loved the postings. They fired his enthusiasm and ignited his passion. The last four weeks had been fine, but only because he’d known it wouldn’t be for long.

      His heart twisted in his chest as he said the words he had to out loud. ‘It’s you and me, Finn. I won’t be going away again. I’ll be staying here, with you.’

      He looked up. April had appeared in the doorway. He could see the expression on her face. She’d heard him in the last few weeks. Being excited about his future plans, talking about all the missions he’d been on.

      The Colonel had phoned him this morning. He could stay at Waterloo Court for the next six months. He had temporary family accommodation. This was his life now. Part of him ached. But he pushed it away. He gave April an almost imperceptible nod.

      He’d decided. His son would come first. Always.

      * * *

      She could tell he was struggling. And she felt like an intruder, watching two people who were alike in so many ways getting to know each other for the first time.

      The visit to the house was the hardest. And she could relate to this. She really could. She’d had to pack up her sister’s house and give away some of her belongings. She’d heard other people talk about it in the past, but you could never really appreciate how hard something like this was until you had to do it yourself.

      She fingered her necklace as they reached the house. Two intertwined gold hearts. Her parents had given Mallory and April the same thing for their twenty-first birthdays. Mallory had been buried wearing hers.

      The first surprise when they reached the house was the tree.

      It seemed that Isabel loved Christmas and even though it was only November the tree was already up and covered in decorations.

      ‘We did that last week,’ Finn said shakily.

      April knelt down and looked at some of the decorations on the tree. She could see instantly they’d been made by a child’s hands.

      ‘Will we take some of these too? You made these, didn’t you?’

      Finn nodded and pointed to a few of them, which April folded into some tissue paper that she found.

      She’d done the practical things. She’d found all the clothes and packed them up. She’d helped Finn choose all the toys and books he’d wanted. Then she’d taken a deep breath and thought about all the sentimental things the foster carer had spoken to her about.

      ‘Photos,’ she whispered to Riley. ‘We need to find some photos for Finn to have of his mum.’

      Riley knelt down in front of Finn. ‘Should we get some photographs? Pictures of you and Mum we can put in your new bedroom?’

      Finn gave a nod and broke into a run. ‘This one,’ he shouted. ‘This is the one I have.’

      April glanced at it and her heart gave a little flip. It was a picture of Isabel and Riley together. They were in a pub somewhere. He had his arm around her shoulders and they were looking at each other and laughing. It looked as if it could have been taken yesterday.

      It was like a little spear hitting inside her.

      Why? She instantly pushed the feeling aside. She’d no right to feel like that. Riley and her weren’t anything to each other. Never could be. She wasn’t at that point in her life. And he had his hands more than full for the next while.

      Riley’s face had blanched. The letter had said Finn had a photograph of his dad; he must not have expected Isabel to be in it too.

      April bent down and took the photo frame. ‘This is a good photo, Finn. I like it a lot. But let’s take some other photographs too. Ones of you and your mum together.’

      Finn nodded and darted through to the main living room. April followed his lead and took a photograph from the wall he pointed at, and a calendar from the kitchen that had different photographs of them for every month of the year.

      ‘And the stick!’ said Finn. He jumped on top of a chair and found something on a shelf. ‘My mum has all our pictures on this!’

      Riley gave a nod and put the USB stick in his pocket.

      He bent back down. ‘Finn, do you want to take anything else?’

      Finn hesitated. There was clearly something in his mind.

      A wave of something came over April. She’d packed up Finn’s bedding to take with him. But after her sister had died, when she’d been packing up the house, she’d collapsed onto the bed at some point and been overwhelmed by the familiar scent from her sister’s pillow. She’d sobbed for hours.

      She brushed her hand against Riley’s. ‘I think I know,’ she whispered.

      She reached out with her other hand and touched Finn’s head. ‘Should we take some other things of your mum’s? How about her pillow, or a blanket that she used? Is there a jumper she loved? Do you want to take something like that?’

      Riley squeezed her hand. He must know what this was doing to her. But his look was pure gratitude.

      Finn sniffed. So April took his hand and gathered up the things he showed her. He buried his face in his mother’s pillow for a few seconds and let out a sob. She couldn’t help herself. She gathered the little boy into her arms and just held him. ‘I know, honey. I know how hard this is. I’m right here with you. And so is your dad.’

      The little body crumpled against hers and a tear slid down her cheek.

      This wasn’t about her. This wasn’t about the family of her own that she’d never have. This was about a little boy who was desperately sad. But somehow it felt about both.

      Riley seemed choked too. They gathered up the rest of the belongings and he walked Finn out to the car.

      ‘Wait,’ she said. Something had just struck her. She pulled out her phone. ‘Let’s get a picture of the two of you together.’

      Finn looked up at his dad. ‘Can we?’

      Riley