Santa's Secret (17 page)

“Who’s Eva?” she said.

Rudi froze. “What?”

“Isabel said I couldn’t come up because you
were seeing Eva.”

He blew out a breath and ran his hand
through his hair again. “Just a girl I met when I arrived here.”

“A girl?”

“A woman. She has a son—he’s three. We’ve
spent a bit of time together, that’s all.”

“I see.”

“Vanessa…”

“Honey,” she said softly, “it’s okay.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s not a
thing; I’ve only known her a few days.”

“Rudi, please, it’s none of my business.
And why on earth wouldn’t any woman snap you up?”

He couldn’t believe she was forgiving him,
and her compliment took him by surprise. “I’m not flaunting anything in front
of Isabel,” he said, wondering why he felt the need to say so.

“She knows. Don’t be fooled.”

“It’s irrelevant,” he persisted,
frustration overwhelming him. “Eva’s a New Zealander living in England. It’s
not going anywhere.”

“I doesn’t have to, honey. It just means
you’re moving on. I didn’t realise you had, but it’s a good thing, and I should
have realised it would happen. I thought…” She cleared her throat. “I suppose I
thought you’d wait for me forever, but that was stupid.”

He rested his forehead on his hand. It was
nearly dark outside, and getting close to six o’clock. “We were never going to
work,” he said, finally admitting it to her as well as himself. “You are
elegant and beautiful, and you were a superb corporate wife—you carried that
role out to perfection. But a marriage has to be more than that, if it’s going
to last. You deserve someone who’ll be devoted to you—everyone deserves that.”

“Including you,” she said softly. “You are
such a sweet boy, Rudi.”

He sank his hand into his hair. It was the
first time in a long time that they’d been nice to each other, and it seemed to
be more final than all the arguments and shouting they’d done in the past. “I
brought a lot of baggage with me,” he said. “From the past.”

“We all do, sweetheart. And sometimes it’s
just too much. Look, I have to go. Please wish Izzy a merry Christmas for me,
and tell her I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“I’ll do that. Will you be okay?” He didn’t
like to think of her alone and unhappy.

“I have a friend in Paris who’s offered to
put me up. I’ll be fine.”

His throat tightened. “Merry Christmas,
Vanessa.”

“Merry Christmas, Rudi.”

She hung up.

He clipped the phone shut and stared at it
for a moment.

Then he walked over to the bathroom and
knocked on the door. “Izzy?”

“Go away.”

“Come out, will you?”

“I’m doing personal girl things.”

He stifled a laugh. “No, you’re not; you’re
sitting on the toilet seat and glaring at me.”

She muttered under her breath and something
clattered on the floor; it sounded like a soap dish, and he crossed his fingers
it wasn’t broken.

Then he heard footsteps, and the door
opened.

She looked up at him, her face sullen. “I
don’t want her to come.”

“She’s your mother,” he berated her gently.
“She just wants to see you at Christmas.”

“If she comes I can’t have ice cream or
crisps, and she’ll fuss over what I’m wearing.” She looked suddenly upset. “I’m
sorry, I don’t want to be mean. I love her so much, and I miss her.”

“I know.” He pulled her into his arms and
she buried her face in his jumper.

“I used to want you to get back together,”
she said, voice muffled against his chest. “But then I saw you with Eva, and it
was like someone switched a light on inside you. You never looked like that
with Mummy, and I realised, you know? What love is.”

“I don’t love Eva, honey,” he said gently,
although his heart pounded. “We’ve only just met, and love is something that
takes time to grow.”

“Eva said that being in love and loving
someone are two different things,” Isabel pointed out. “She said one takes a
long time to grow, but the other can happen when you first see someone. Are you
in
love with her?”

He said nothing for a moment, surprised at
Eva’s words and Isabel’s astuteness. He went to deny it, and then she looked up
at him, her blue eyes—so like his—alight with hope.

“Yes,” he said. “I think I am.”

“What will you do when it’s time for us all
to go home?”

He rested his lips on her hair. “I don’t
know, darling. She lives in another country. And I don’t even know if she feels
the same way.”

“I think she does.”

He thought so too, but didn’t want to say
so. “Unfortunately, real life isn’t always like a fairy tale,” he said.

“But it’s Christmas, Daddy. Isn’t that when
miracles are supposed to happen?”

He tightened his arms around her. What was
he supposed to say to that?

Eva woke Oscar fifteen minutes before six.
As usual, he woke grumpy, threw Pooh Bear across the bed, knocked over a glass
of water and promptly burst into tears. But after that was all cleared up and
Bear tucked back under his arm, he cheered up at the news that it was still
Christmas Eve, that Santa was packing up his sleigh, and that they were about
to go to dinner with Rudi and Isabel.

He bounced on the bed. “I’m
starving.
”

“Me too.”

“Starving Marvin,” Oscar declared.

“I wonder who he is and why he’s so
hungry?” Eva pulled on her coat.

Oscar chuckled, bounced onto his bottom and
then back onto his feet. “I’m on a tramperleen, Mummy!”

“You’ll break the bed. You’re heavy as an
elephant.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffed. “
You’re
heavy as an elephant.”

“Hmm.” She thought about the way Rudi had
picked her up as if she’d weighed little more than a pillow. “I suppose.”

“I’m Tigger.”

“Tee, I, double-G, rrr,” she said, trying
to catch him. “Bounce over here then.”

He did so, and she stuffed his arms in his
coat. He stopped for a moment to let her do up the buttons, and she smoothed
down the thick fabric and tugged on the hem. “Oscar, do you like Rudi?”

He thought about it. “His hair is the same
colour as mine.”

“It is.”
How strange
. Especially
considering Damon had been dark, like her.

“He rescued Bear,” Oscar stated, and Eva
remembered how Rudi had picked the toy up and dusted off the snow.

“He did,” she said, thinking how such a
tiny, innocent gesture meant that Oscar now trusted Rudi completely.

“Do you like him?” Oscar asked.

She did up the final button on his coat.
“Yes, I do.”

“I liked his slippers,” Oscar stated, and
Eva started to laugh.

“Yes, they were pretty splendid.”

“Maybe Santa will bring me a pair,” he
asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Eva said, wishing she had some for
him. “But whatever presents he brings, I’m sure you’ll like them all.”

“Lego!” Oscar said, and started bouncing
again.

Someone knocked at the front door, and she
grabbed his hand. “It depends if you’ve been a good boy! Come on, dinner time.”

He bounced off the bed and pulled on his
boots, and Eva opened the door. Rudi stood there smiling, looking gorgeous in
his dark coat, Isabel at his side.

To Eva’s surprise, Isabel came into the
cabin, walked up to her and put her arms around her for a quick hug. Eva stared
over the top of her head at Rudi, who looked alarmed.

“Hello,” Eva said, returning the hug,
touched. “Everything okay?”

Isabel said something in Finnish, then
added, “Sorry. I just wanted to say hello.”

“Hello, back.” Eva grinned. “It’s Christmas
Eve! Are we all excited?”

To Eva’s pleasure, Isabel’s face glowed. “Yes!”

She bent down to the young boy. “We are
going to watch for Rudolph pulling the sleigh tonight, aren’t we, Oscar?”

“With the sack of presents,” Oscar said.
“Santa’s checked them twice.”

They all started laughing and headed out
the door. The kids ran ahead, and Eva locked the door, then held hands with
Rudi as they walked down the path.

“How lovely that she is pretending for
Oscar,” Eva said.

Rudi hunched his shoulders against a
breeze, burying his chin in his scarf. “We had a conversation about Christmas
magic,” he said mysteriously. “I think she believes in it a little.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” Eva said,
delighted.

“I suppose.” He glanced at her. “Do you
believe in magic, Eva?”

She smiled. “Not in the wand-waving sort.
But I like to think there’s something special in the air at Christmastime. It’s
always nice to believe that miracles can happen.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t say anything else. But his
hand held hers tightly.

They walked to the family restaurant, and
Eva discovered that Rudi had booked them a table, thank goodness, as it was
quite busy. The elves had worked extra hard on the decorations that night, and
silver streamers stretched across the room, intertwined occasionally with
greenery brought in from the forest, the red berries bright. Excitement and
anticipation filled the air, and the noise level made Eva’s head ring. She
exchanged a look with Rudi, and they both laughed. Did either of them really
think they would be able to spend Christmas Eve peacefully?

They sat at their table and decided to
order a few different platters to nibble from, and the kids bounded off to the
busy play area while they waited for the food.

Eva leaned an elbow on the table and rested
her head on her head. “Kids have so much energy. No wonder I’m exhausted at the
end of the day.”

“Would you like more children?” Rudi asked.

She studied him for a moment. He sat back
in his chair and played with the pepper pot, one hand tucked into the pocket of
his jeans. He’d changed into a black jumper that made him look quite
different—more dangerous somehow, darker, sexier, even though his blond hair
still shone under the lights.

She looked down and adjusted her cutlery.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I couldn’t cope with another Oscar. One is
more than enough! Then I remember how wonderful it was to hold him late at
night—even though those early months are exhausting. But they say you shouldn’t
have another child just because you want another baby—that you have to think
about the practicalities of them being grown up. So I don’t know.” She smiled.
“I suppose I have to think about getting a husband first. The rest will follow
from that.”

“You think you will marry again?”

She looked up at him. “I don’t know,” she
said honestly, sitting back. “Maybe, if I meet the right person. You?”

He looked out the window, at the clear
night sky, sparkling with stars. “I do not know either. I used to think I would
never marry again. But now… I am not so sure.” His gaze came back to her, and
he smiled, with no sign of regret or sadness. What was he saying? That she’d
helped him move on from his ex-wife? That now he felt comfortable with the
thought of meeting someone else and settling down again?

She supposed she should be pleased to have
served such a purpose, but again, his comment stung. She didn’t need their
imminent parting rubbed in. Couldn’t he let her hang onto the magic a little
longer?

Their drinks arrived, and she changed the
subject to matters less intimate, talking about favourite Christmas movies, and
he seemed content to listen to her talk, observing her with watchful blue eyes.
But all the time, she thought,
something’s changed.
She couldn’t put her
finger on what, but he seemed thoughtful, less open than before, his answers to
her questions rehearsed and reserved, as if they were both playing a part in a
play, with their real relationship secret from the audience.

The food arrived and they called the kids
over, and Isabel chattered away to Oscar, filling the silence that seemed to be
growing between them. Eva picked with little enthusiasm at the platters, at the
bread and meat, the pickles and cheese, the fish pieces and the hot chicken
that Oscar devoured. The magic had gone, she thought; the excited kids seemed
raucous and the noise had given her a headache, the lights dazzled her, the
food was greasy and made her stomach rumble, and she was too tired to summon up
her usual good spirits. After their delightful interlude in the sauna, she’d
thought the evening would be wonderful. Instead, she felt flat and deflated.
What had gone wrong?

Oscar—full of chicken and bread and
cheese—was growing naughty, spilling salt onto the table and knocking over the
decoration in the centre and blowing bubbles in his drink again, so Isabel took
him off for one last play.

Eva opened her mouth to speak to Rudi,
wanting—needing—to know what was up. But at that moment, his phone rang.

Giving her a quick, apologetic smile, he
flipped it open and answered it. His smile turned to a frown, and he got up and
walked over to the window, speaking in Finnish. Eva watched him, wondering if
it was Vanessa, or someone from work with a last minute panic. She’d forgotten
he was a businessman with an international company.

He spoke for a while, massaged his
forehead, and then—to her surprise—laughed and nodded, speaking a few more
sentences before hanging up. He pocketed the phone and stared out for a brief
moment, then turned back to her. He looked wary, she thought.

He came and sat back down, leaned forwards
and took her hands in his. “
Armas
, I have something to tell you.”

Uh-oh.
“What’s the matter?”

“I have not been a hundred percent honest
with you. I have a little secret.”

She swallowed. “What do you mean?” Was he
still married? Did he have some terrible disease? Her mind played through a
hundred possibilities in the space of a second.

He looked around the room. “It is about Santa’s
Secret Village…”

Her brain screeched to a halt. “What about
it?”

“Er…I kind of own it.”

She stared at him. “Own it?”

“Well, my father built it, twenty years
ago.” He looked relieved now he’d finally said the words. “I have never
understood why, because he hated Christmas. He wanted to cash in on the festive
sentimentality he saw at this time of the year, and I always hated him for
that. I came here with the intention of finding out more about the site. I had
planned to sell the place.”

She’d known he was a businessman, that he
was fairly wealthy, but she hadn’t expected anything like this and she felt
foolish to think she’d spent the last few days assuming they were both there
for nothing more than to treat their children. She should have guessed
something was awry when Isabel told her she didn’t believe in Santa. Why would
a parent who believed it was okay to tell their seven-year-old that Santa
didn’t exist bring them to a place like Santa’s Secret Village? “You should
have told me.”

“Nobody here knew, and after a while I was
too embarrassed to admit it. Also, I wanted to see what you thought of it, an
honest opinion. I had expected it to be kitsch, full of spoiled children and
irritated adults—I thought I would hate the place. But you have shown me the
magic of it—that it is possible as an adult to recapture your youth and the joy
of Christmas.”

She couldn’t believe it. She looked around,
thinking of the sleigh rides, the Exhibition Centre, the Little Elves and the
beautiful cabins. He owned it all?

Her cheeks flooded with warmth as she
remembered how she’d criticised various parts of the complex. He said he’d
wanted an honest opinion, but still, she felt embarrassed. His admission
symbolised the fact that she knew practically nothing about him, and that her
wild imaginings had been way off course. True, he hadn’t lied to her as such,
but she still felt foolish, just like Isabel must have felt when that young boy
had told her Santa didn’t exist.

“I am sorry,” he said softly. “I truly did
not mean any harm by it.”

She reined in her anger. He had made no
promises to her, and she had not asked for any. He hadn’t done anything wrong
except perhaps be a little economical with the truth, and there was no crime in
that.
There you go again, Eva, jumping in with both feet instead of just
dipping your toe in the water.

“So what are you going to do?” She gestured
around the room. “Are you going to sell?”

“I am not sure; I need to talk to my
accountant, draw up some figures, but I think maybe I will not sell. I have
grown fond of the place.” He smiled, and she tried to smile back, but she knew
it must have come out sad and wistful, because his own smile faded and he gave
a little sigh.

“Listen,” he said, “I need to ask you a
favour. Please say no if you want, I will understand. Santa’s Secret Village
has a couple of male members of staff who dress as Santa on Christmas Eve to
deliver the presents—they have a very careful route planned so they do not bump
into each other! But unfortunately we have just heard that one of them has had
to go home because his wife is unwell. I finally told the management here today
who I was, and they have asked me to stand in for him.”

She could stop a laugh breaking out at
that. “You’re going to be Santa?”

“Yes, I have agreed. I should only be an hour
or so. But when I am done, I can come back to the house and see Isabel and
Oscar, if you think that would be a good idea? Deliver their presents. It might
be fun.”

She nodded. “Oscar would like that, I
think.”

“So I wondered if you would mind looking after
Isabel for a while? I should be done by maybe eight o’clock, I think. Is that
too late for Oscar?”

“It is late, but he’s had a nap and he’s
excited so he’ll probably be up late.” She smiled. “Of course I’ll look after
her. But what will you tell her? The truth?”