Santa's Secret Read Online Free PDF Page A

he
admitted. “There are two islands, yes? And the capital is Wellington.”
    “Very good,” she said, impressed. “Most
people think it’s Auckland, as that’s the biggest city. And yes, there are two
islands. I live in at the top of the north island. It’s sub-tropical there,
very warm and humid in the summer.”
    “This must seem very different to you.” He
gestured out of the window at the snow.
    “Very. There is something lovely about a
cold festive season. Oddly, I suppose, we have snowmen and robins on all our
Christmas cards, even though our Christmas is hot. When I moved to the UK, I so
looked forward to a Dickensian Christmas, but unfortunately it tends to be mild
and damp there—I haven’t seen snow at all. So it’s lovely to come here and have
a ‘proper’ Christmas.”
    “So you live in the UK?” He leaned back as
the waiter arrived with his pasta.
    Eva pushed a few spirals around her plate.
“Yes. I went there on an OE—that’s what New Zealanders call it, the ‘overseas
experience’. Everyone does one at some point in their lives, usually. I met my
husband there four years ago, and I’ve lived there ever since.”
    Rudi nodded. “Is he coming here to be with
you and Oscar for Christmas?”
    She pushed her plate away. “No. He died
eighteen months ago.”
    Rudi looked horrified at his blunder. “Oh
goodness. I am so sorry to hear that. How insensitive of me.”
    That made her smile. “You weren’t to know.
It was a perfectly sensible question. And it’s okay—I mean, I’m okay. We’re
okay.” Now she was waffling. “I mean, I miss him of course…”
    “Of course.”
    “…but…” And now she’d dug herself a hole.
Jeez, she barely knew this man. How could she be pouring out the contents of
her heart so suddenly, as if she’d walked up to the hole and stumbled straight
in?
    And yet his gaze was gentle, and Isabel and
Oscar were talking about the latest Disney movie as if they’d known each other
all their lives, and the snow was falling so softly and magically outside, and suddenly
Eva wanted to confide, wanted to share something with this gentle Viking, whose
blue eyes were watching her, curious and tempting her to talk, promising not to
be accusatorial.
    “Go on,” he said.
    She turned her glass of lemonade in her
fingers. “Damon’s family have been very good to me. My mother died when I was
young and I’m not close to my father. They’ve looked after me and Oscar, made
sure we want for nothing.”
    “And you feel beholden to them because of
that,” he suggested.
    She hesitated. Then, realising the world
hadn’t come to an end with his statement, she nodded slowly. “Yes. A bit.
Damon’s mother misses him terribly—of course she does; he was her eldest son.
And I’m happy to be there for her. But it’s just that she makes me feel so
terribly guilty because I don’t miss him as much as I should.” She finished in
a rush, not really believing she was finally putting voice to the thoughts that
had been in her head for so long.
    Tears welled in her eyes as regret and
shame swept over her, and she sat back and blew her nose. What must Rudi be
thinking? Here she sat, only eighteen months a widow, saying she didn’t miss
her dead husband. Wow, Eva. You really could win a Crappiest Wife
Competition, you know that?
    Rudi leaned forwards and started eating his
pasta, then calmly picked up a stray chicken nugget and placed it back on
Oscar’s plate. “They look tasty,” he said to the boy, tapping the plate. “But I
bet you are full. You cannot eat them all, surely?”
    “Yes, I can,” Oscar announced, contrary as
ever, and proceeded to stuff a whole one into his mouth.
    “You should cut it in half first,” Eva
said, a little hoarsely, shooting Rudi a grateful look for not pressing the
issue and trying to distract things.
    He just smiled and asked, “So where do you
live in England?”
    They passed the next half an hour talking
about practical matters,