Not Just for Christmas: The perfect Christmas short romance. Alex Brown

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       Chapter Two

      Later, when the café was closed and Bella had been picked up by her dad, Matt – after he’d managed to get his van going again – Kitty had just settled Teddie down with a festively themed colouring book and a pack of felt-tips. The village school was only down the lane past the war memorial and Kitty was always able to nip over at 3.30 p.m. to pick her daughter up.

      When a car pulled up right outside and Kitty saw with a light lurch in her stomach that it was Mack, she instinctively jumped up to go and help him, though quickly remembered that Mack might not thank her for it. She had seen how he was at the funeral, insistent on doing it all himself, so she sat back down and waited for him to come to the door.

      A few minutes later, Mack was manoeuvring himself into place beside her at one of the tables, and in a new wheelchair by the looks of it, one of those sporty ones with special all-terrain tyres on. And he sure had bulked up – his upper body was solid muscle. Not that she was gawping or anything, but Kitty couldn’t help but notice his impressive physique underneath the close-fitting navy sweatshirt after he pulled off his padded ski jacket. She seemed to remember Ed’s mum mentioning that she’d heard that Mack had taken up rowing and was training for the Paralympics as part of his rehabilitation. She tried not to look at Mack’s legs, both of which had been blown off below the knee when the explosion had happened. Kitty remembered again the full impact of it and the terrible toll it had taken on the whole battalion, for Ed wasn’t the only one to have lost his life: another guy did too. And Mack and three others had endured life-changing injuries.

      ‘Shall I take that?’ Kitty said, gesturing to the ski jacket.

      ‘Cheers.’ Mack handed her the jacket and she looped it over one of the hooks by the door.

      ‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked, momentarily dipping down into a chair in front of him so as to be on the same level where he could see her. It didn’t feel right to hover over him out of sight.

      ‘A bottle of beer would go down a treat!’ He smiled broadly, making his conker-brown eyes brighten up.

      ‘Oh, er, sorry I don’t have a licence …’ Kitty started, twiddling an earring, wondering where she could get a bottle from. She preferred pink wine so didn’t even have any beer in her cottage kitchen out the back. The village store would be closed by now for sure, but maybe Cher, the landlady in the Duck & Puddle, could help out?

      ‘Joking. I don’t touch that stuff nowadays. My coach would kill me if I let the old beer belly bounce back.’ He laughed, patting his perfectly taut abdomen.

      ‘Ah, well, you got me there.’ Kitty smiled. ‘So what would you like to drink? I can do tea, coffee, hot chocolate, milkshakes with squirty cream and sprinkles, pretty much anything you want – except alcohol.’

      ‘Water will do just fine, cheers, love.’

      ‘I want a milkshake,’ Teddie piped up, putting down her pen and darting over towards them. She came to a halt alongside Mack and eyed him curiously.

      ‘How do you ask nicely, then, Teddie?’ Kitty prompted, ruffling her daughter’s corn-coloured curls.

      ‘Pleeeeease can I, Mummy? Pleeeeease. A strawberry one with lots of cream and the rainbow sprinkles on top.’ Teddie grinned, nodding her head and pressing her palms together in gleeful anticipation before tentatively touching the wheel of Mack’s wheelchair with a tiny index finger.

      ‘Yes, you can. Seeing as you’ve asked so nicely now.’ Kitty shook her head in amusement, wondering if her darling daughter would ever remember her manners without being prompted.

      ‘Why has your chair got wheels on it?’ Teddie blurted out, running her little hand over the spokes.

      ‘Sorry,’ Kitty quickly intervened, flashing Mack a look.

      ‘It’s OK.’ Mack gestured, shaking his head and smiling. He then turned his attention back to Teddie. ‘The wheels are so I can get around.’

      ‘Oh.’ Teddie’s little forehead creased as she processed this piece of intriguing information. ‘But why don’t you just walk like me? See …’ And she did a funny march up and down the café as if to demonstrate her walking ability. Mack laughed, making his shoulders bob up and down, while Kitty wondered if she should intervene. Teddie could be very intrusive at times: she’d once asked Mrs Pocket, the indomitable village busybody and self-imposed custodian of Tindledale, why her face was always so angry. Kitty had wanted to shrivel on the spot and for the ground to swallow her up. But Mack seemed to be taking it all in his stride, which was a bit ironic, really, Kitty thought, given that he couldn’t actually walk.

      ‘Because the bottom part of my legs have gone.’ Mack pointed to his knees.

      ‘Gone where?’ And Teddie actually pressed her hands onto her own knees so she could bend down to scrutinise and get an even better look at where the missing parts of Mack’s legs should have been. Kitty held her breath, but СКАЧАТЬ