Midwife Under The Mistletoe. Karin Baine

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      ‘Lift your side up a little higher. Left a bit. How does that look now? Is it straight?’ Iona was balanced on a chair, trying to pin a gaudy gold-foil garland to the ceiling, with Victoria, the receptionist, as her partner in crime.

      ‘What the—?’ Fraser stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Iona, barefoot and on tiptoe, breaking every health and safety rule in the workplace. He was in danger of hyperventilating as he did a quick risk assessment of the scene.

      ‘Oh, hi, Fraser. I thought we could brighten the place up and make it look less sterile in here.’ Unlike the rest of the staff, who quickly made themselves scarce, Iona carried on decorating as though she was perfectly entitled to do as she pleased. It was one thing managing her own caseload but she didn’t have any authority outside that.

      ‘It’s supposed to be sterile!’ Fraser didn’t want to lose his temper when that would be a sign he wasn’t in control. Although the garish garlands draped across every available space, transforming the beige room into an eyesore of gold and red, hinted he hadn’t asserted his authority here as much as he’d believed.

      ‘Lighten up, Fraser. It’s Christmas. If you’re worried about the cost, it’s coming from my own pocket, not yours.

      ‘Fraser.’ This was exactly why she rubbed him up the wrong way. Iona gave no thought for the rules or decorum in the workplace, or anywhere else for that matter. The patients loved her easygoing persona but for Fraser that free spirit vibe was unsettling, as was anything that didn’t fit into his idea of conformity. It upset that safe environment he was trying to set up here, and quite frankly he didn’t know how to handle it.

      Fraser had mistakenly believed Caroline had been the one person who’d understood him when they’d made their plans to get married and settle down into quiet family life, but when his father had died and he’d inherited the family estate he’d discovered the truth. Once Fraser had the means to make those dreams a reality Caroline had confessed they’d been nothing more than an idea she’d been paying lip service to, not a legitimate option. That level of deception had ultimately ended their relationship and Fraser’s hope for the future.

      This was different, though. Iona wasn’t a love interest, so her casual attitude to life shouldn’t bother him on a personal level, but she was a staff member and they had rules in place here for a reason.

      ‘I appreciate the gesture,’ Fraser said diplomatically, doing his best to remain calm. Iona didn’t know him personally so wouldn’t understand the issues he had with the whole palaver at this time of the year.

      They’d never gone in for the whole over-the-top lead up to Christmas at boarding school and the death of his mother on Christmas Eve had cemented Fraser’s dislike of the season. It was a reminder of the childhood he’d lost and the family that had never recovered from the devastation of cancer. Now he dreaded that last week in December more than ever since it was also the anniversary of his break-up with Caroline.

      He’d made the mistake of trying to embrace Christmas last year in an effort to make it special for her with an over-the-top marriage proposal, including a horse-drawn sleigh and carol singers serenading them along the ride. Only she’d turned him down on the basis that he was ‘being fake’. Fraser couldn’t win and was now even less likely to get caught up in the fuss, reverting back to his true Grinchy self, unwilling to be one of those people who lost their minds for the sake of one anti-climactic day.

      On the rare occasions his parents had retrieved Fraser for the holidays it had been a non-event anyway. They’d gone through the motions without ever getting bogged down in the sentiment. Whilst he’d yearned for this infantile nonsense as a child far from home, he’d learned to live without it.

      Iona carried on making her mark on the recently painted ceiling, humming Christmas carols and reminding Fraser what a very long month December could be when you weren’t in the festive spirit.

      ‘As I said, I appreciate the gesture but we can’t have all of this cluttering up the surgery.’ He would’ve told her that if she’d sought his permission in the first place.

      ‘I think the patients will love it. It gives them something to focus on other than their aches and pains.’

      Sure. They’d all end up with tinsel blindness on top of everything else.

      ‘I’m sorry, it’ll all have to go. It’s a health and safety hazard.’ Fraser began to detach the string of fairy lights from the reception desk.

      ‘Okay, I’ll give you the lights. They haven’t been assessed by a registered electrician but they are bonny. Perhaps I could bung more tinsel there instead. I have some neon pink somewhere...’ Iona clearly wasn’t going to give this up without a fight and, as had become the custom, Fraser would have to get tough to have his opinion heard.

      He ripped down the cardboard Father Christmas she’d stuck to the counter and hoped it wouldn’t leave any sticky marks behind. ‘It’s all going to have to come down.’

      Iona stopped this time. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

      ‘I don’t kid.’ He reached his hand up and tugged the large blue and silver foil star dangling from the ceiling until the tack holding it in place dislodged and pinged to the floor. This was exactly what he was talking about. One drawing pin in the wrong person’s foot and they could be facing a lawsuit. Luckily for them both he spotted the gold pin glinting on the dark carpet and retrieved it before it damaged more than his peace of mind.

      ‘What harm can a few decorations do?’ Iona faced him, her displeasure flaring in her big brown eyes and her full lips pursed into a tight line. It didn’t thrill him to note he was the one with the power to steal away the twinkling smile she wore for everyone else.

      ‘They’re a breeding ground for germs with so many sick people coming and going. Then there’s the dust. Think of how many asthma patients we have. Our appointment list is full enough without putting it under more stress.’ Deep down Fraser knew he was grasping for excuses but coming into the clinic every morning and being reminded of the worst days of his life was too much for him to bear.

      ‘Okay. Okay. I get it. I was only trying to do something nice. Talk about dampening the mood,’ she muttered as though he wasn’t there, and began dismantling her ceiling display.

      ‘I know, but perhaps next time you could check with me first instead of going rogue?’ Fraser understood her intentions had been good and would’ve preferred not to fuel this animosity between them, but Iona’s spur-of-the-moment actions were infuriating when they impeached on his carefully laid plans and tugged on emotions that needed to remain dormant for the remainder of this dreaded month.

      ‘Yes, sir.’ With her anger clearly still bubbling away, Iona yanked down the bunting she’d only finished hanging.

      Fraser watched in horror as she tottered on the chair, clearly off balance, her arms freewheeling in the air as she fell.

      With lightning-fast reflexes he rushed over and caught her in his arms before she hit the floor. Iona’s yelp softened to a gasp as he hooked a hand under her knees and one under her arms. Instinctively she latched her arms around his neck but that contact and the strong grip she had on him almost startled him into dropping her again.

      The adrenaline rush was making them both breathe heavily and in that moment, holding her in his arms, their faces almost touching, it was easy to forget what they’d been fighting over, or even where they were.

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