Rebecca Winters

The One Winter Collection


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had wrapped the sensible gifts, two or three each, nice things carefully chosen. Rob, however, had taken wrapping to extremes, deciding there was too much wrapping paper and it couldn’t be wasted. So he’d hunted the house and wrapped silly things. As well as the scarf and a bracelet from Africa, Amina’s stocking also contained a gift-wrapped hammer, nails, a grease gun—‘because you never know what’ll need greasing’, Rob told her—and a bottle of cleaning bleach. They made Amina gasp and then giggle.

      ‘Santa thinks I might be a handyman?’

      ‘Every house needs one,’ Rob said gravely. ‘In our house I wear the tool belt but Santa’s not sexist.’

      ‘My Henry’s an engineer.’

      ‘Then you get to share. Sharing a grease gun—that’s real domestic harmony.’

      Amina chuckled and held her grease gun like it was gold and they moved on.

      Julie’s stocking contained the nightdress she’d lusted after four years before and a voucher for a day spa, now long expired. Whoops.

      ‘The girls at the spa gift-wrapped it for me four years ago,’Rob explained. ‘How was I to know it had expired?’ Then, ‘No matter,’ he said expansively. ‘Santa will buy you another.’

      He was like a bountiful genie, Julie thought, determined to make each of them happy.

      He’d made her happy last night. Was it possible...? Did she have the courage...?

      ‘You have another gift,’ Rob reminded her and she hauled her thoughts back to now.

      Her final gift was a wad of paper, fresh from their printer. Bemused, she flicked through it.

      It was Freezing—the Modern Woman’s Survival Guide, plus a how-to manual extolling the virtues of ash in compost. He’d clearly got their printer to work while she’d gift-wrapped. He’d practically printed out a book.

      She showed Amina and both women dissolved into laughter while Rob beamed benevolently.

      ‘Never say I don’t put thought into my gifts,’ he told them and Julie held up the spa voucher.

      ‘An out-of-date day spa?’

      ‘They cancel each other out. I still rock.’

      They chuckled again and then turned their attention to Danny.

      Danny was simply entranced. He loved the pyjamas and his fire engine but most of all he loved the wombat puppet. Rob demonstrated. Danny watched and was smitten.

      And so was Julie. She watched the two of them together and she thought: I know why I fell in love with this man.

       I know why I love this man?

      Was she brave enough to go there?

      As well as snorkel and flippers—which Rob had received with open enjoyment before promising Danny that they could try them out in the bath later—Julie had given Rob a coat—a cord jacket. She remembered buying it for him all those years ago. She’d tried it on herself, rushing in her lunch hour, last-minute shopping. It had cost far more than she’d budgeted for but she’d imagined it on Rob, imagined holding him when he was wearing it, imagined how it’d look, faded and worn, years hence.

      She should have given it to him four years ago. Now he shrugged himself into it and smiled across the room at her and she realised why she hadn’t given it to him. Why she’d refused to have contact with him.

      She was afraid of that smile.

      Was she still? Tomorrow, would she...?

      No. Tomorrow was for tomorrow. For now she needed to watch Danny help Luka open a multi-wrapped gift that finally revealed a packet of biscuits scarily past their use-by date. Oatmeal gingernuts. ‘They’ll be the closest thing Santa could find to dog biscuits,’ Rob told Danny.

      ‘Doesn’t Santa have dog biscuits at the North Pole?’

      ‘I reckon he does,’ Rob said gravely. ‘But I think he’ll have also seen all this burned bush and thought of all the animals out here who don’t have much to eat. So he might have dropped his supply of dog biscuits out of his sleigh to help.’

      ‘He’s clever,’ Danny said and Rob nodded.

      ‘And kind.’

      He’s not the only one, Julie thought, and her heart twisted. Once upon a time this man had been her husband. If she could go back...

      Turn back time? As if that was going to happen.

      ‘Is it time to put the turkey on?’ Rob asked and Julie glanced at him and thought he’s as tense as I am. Making love didn’t count, she thought, or it did, but all it showed was the same attraction was there that had always been there. And with it came the same propensity for heartbreak.

      He was still wearing his jacket. He liked it. You could always tell with Rob. If he loved something, he loved it for ever. And she realised that might just count for her too.

      Whether she wanted that love or not.

      Switch to practical. ‘We still need to use the barbecue,’ she said. ‘We don’t have enough electricity to use the oven.’

      ‘That’s us then,’ Rob said, puffing his chest. ‘Me and Danny. Barbecuing’s men’s work, hey, Dan?’

      ‘Can my wombat help?’

      ‘Sure he can.’

      ‘I’m not sure what we can have with it,’ Julie said. ‘There doesn’t seem to be a lot of salad in the fridge.’

      ‘Let me look at what you have,’ Amina said. ‘I can cook.’

      ‘Don’t you need to rest?’

      ‘I’ve had enough rest,’ Amina declared. ‘And I can’t sleep. I need to know my husband’s safe. I can’t rest until we’re all together.’

      That’s us shot then, Julie thought bleakly. For her family, together was never going to happen.

      * * *

      They ate a surprisingly delicious dinner—turkey with the burned-from-the-freezer bits chopped off, gravy made from a packet mix and couscous with nuts and dried fruit and dried herbs.

      They had pudding, slices fried in the butter she’d bought with the bread, served with custard made from evaporated milk.

      They pulled bon-bons. They wore silly hats. They told jokes.

      But even Danny kept glancing out of the window. He was waiting for his father to appear.

      So much could have happened. If he’d tried to reach them last night... All sorts of scenarios were flitting through Julie’s mind and she didn’t like any of them.

      Once catastrophe struck, did you spend the rest of your life expecting it to happen again? Of course you did.

      ‘He’ll be fine.’ Astonishingly, the reassurance came from Amina. Had she sensed how tense Julie was? ‘What you said made sense. He’ll be at the road block. And, as for the house... We’ve seen worse than this before. We’ll survive.’

      ‘Of course you will.’

      ‘No, you have to believe it,’ Amina said. ‘Don’t just say it. Believe it or you go mad.’

      What had this woman gone through? She had no idea. She didn’t want to even imagine.

      ‘I’d like to do something for you,’ Amina said shyly. ‘If you permit... In the bathroom I noticed a hair colour kit. Crimson. Is it yours?’

      ‘Julie doesn’t colour her hair,’ Rob said, but Julie was remembering a day long ago, a momentary impulse.

      She’d be a redhead for Christmas, she’d thought. Her boys would love it, or she thought