For some reason he was also wearing a headband with Santa on a bouncy spring.
‘Everyone’s a Santa?’ I asked, unable to think of anything else to say.
‘Something like that.’
‘You look how Santa Claus must feel on Christmas morning.’
He gave a rueful smile, dragging up another chair and sinking into it. ‘You look incredible.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I whispered.
He leant forwards, dropping his head into his hands. ‘I did call.’
‘You should have left a message. Texted. Called round and cried on my sofa! I know you said about needing time apart, but I’m a grown-up, Beckett. This is way more important than feeling awkward about a kiss. I could have got over it.’
‘You had more important things going on.’ He peered up at me, face squashed against his fingers.
‘What?’ I sat back, confused. ‘Like the carol concert? That was one evening. Oh, and my parents called in. I’d have infinitely preferred to have been here with you and Gramps than tolerating their Christmas anti-cheer.’
‘I meant your husband.’
Now I was really flummoxed.
‘Bob’s dad?’ Beckett mumbled.
There was a horrible silence.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘He was there, after the rehearsal.’
Oh! Oh.
‘That was Bob’s uncle. My husband’s brother.’
Beckett sat up.
‘Um. What?’ It was his turn to look bewildered.
‘My husband died in March. His brother, Kieran, was one of my best friends and fellow founder of our company, ShayKi.’
Beckett went so pale I feared he might slide off the chair into a dead faint.
Instead, he swore under his breath, dark eyes not leaving mine.
‘But that explains your weird rejection,’ I added, voice wobbly as the pain of Beckett’s message hit me all over again.
He swore more loudly this time.
I reached down and covered Bob’s ears. ‘Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else?’
Beckett shook his head, as if coming back to himself. ‘Yeah. Yes. Visiting time is nearly over anyway. We could go back to yours. I mean, if there’s no one else…’
‘There’s no one else,’ I said, firmly enough to convey that I was talking about a whole lot more than my cottage.
We both gave Gramps a soft kiss. Then, in a move bolder than I’d have believed possible coming from me, I took hold of Beckett’s hand as he carried the car seat to his taxi.
34
