The Unexpected Holiday Gift (6 page)

James Foster's office was at the far end of the hallway, its window looking out over the apple orchard behind the house. Jacob knocked on the door and waited, feeling like a sixteen-year-old boy again, in trouble because his science marks weren't quite as high as they needed to be.

In the end, of course, it had been his flair for business that had taken the family company to new heights, not his scientific talents. For him, science had become something to work around rather than to experiment in. It was safer that way.

‘Come in.'

Even his dad's voice sounded tired, Jacob realised. Whatever Heather wanted to believe, there was no denying that he wasn't as healthy as he'd been even one month ago. But maybe his Christmas surprise would help. Remind his father of everything he had to live for.

Jacob pushed open the door and stepped into the study, his mother close behind him.

‘Jacob!' James said, struggling to his feet. His arms felt brittle around him, Jacob thought. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?'

‘Jacob has something to tell us.' His mum had already settled herself into the armchair by the window, ready to listen. ‘And it has absolutely nothing to do with a woman, except that it might.'

‘Sounds interesting,' his father said, sitting back down in his desk chair. ‘So, do tell.'

Jacob perched on the edge of a table, pushed up against the old fireplace. ‘Well, it's about Christmas, actually.'

‘You're bringing someone new?' His mother clapped her hands in enthusiasm. ‘Except you said not a woman.' Her eyes grew wide. ‘Is it a man? Because, darling, really, we just want you to be happy. And you can adopt these days, you know—'

‘I'm not bringing anyone,' Jacob said firmly. ‘But I am taking you somewhere.'

‘Somewhere...not here?' she asked. ‘But it's Christmas.'

For a horrible moment it struck Jacob that Clara might actually have read his parents better than he had this time.

‘Do you remember that year we spent Christmas in Scotland?' he asked, changing tack.

‘In the cottage?' James said. ‘Of course. It was possibly the best Christmas we ever had.'

Of course it had been. The last Christmas before the accident. The last time his family had been able to look at Jacob without that shadow in their eyes. The one that told him that they
loved
him, of course—they just couldn't trust him. Couldn't believe in him. Couldn't move past what had happened.

And neither could he.

This Christmas might not fix his mistakes but it was at least one more step in a long line of atonements. Maybe the last one he'd get to make to his father. He had to make it count.

Jacob forced a smile. ‘Well, good. Because I wanted to give you another Christmas like that.'

‘So you hired the cottage for Christmas?' James frowned. ‘I thought that cottage was sold on, a few years later. Do you remember, Sheila? We tried to book again, didn't we? Let me check my files...'

‘Not the same cottage.' The last thing he needed was his dad disappearing into his filing cabinet for the afternoon. ‘Actually, I've found a castle, up in the Highlands. It has huge old fireplaces, four-poster beds... It'll be perfect.' Or so Clara promised him.

‘A castle? Jacob, where on earth do you find a castle for Christmas?' His mother asked, astonished.

‘On the Internet, I imagine,' his father said. ‘Was it on eBay, Jacob? Because I've heard some stories...'

‘I haven't bought the castle,' Jacob explained. ‘We're just hiring it. Clara said—'

‘Clara?' Mum might be woolly on some things, but she homed right in on the mention of her ex-daughter-in-law. Jacob winced. He'd half hoped to get through this without having to explain the exact logistics. ‘What has Clara got to do with this plan? Are you two back together? What happened?'

‘No, it's nothing like that.' How to explain? ‘She runs a concierge and events company in London now, you see. I've hired her to organise us the perfect Christmas. I figured that since she already knew us...'

‘And left you,' his mum pointed out. ‘Jacob, really. Are you sure this isn't just an excuse to see her again? We all remember how mad you were over her. And how heartbroken you were when she left. We just don't want to see that happen to you again.'

Jacob had a horrible feeling that they were going to believe this was all a cunning ploy to win his wife back, whatever he said. Unless...unless he told them about the divorce. He took one glance at his father and dismissed the idea. He couldn't bear to lay that last disappointment, that last failure, on the old man.

‘I'm sure,' he said instead. ‘My heart is fine.'

‘Well, I suppose it will be good for you to have some closure at last,' his mum said dubiously. ‘But are you sure—'

‘Apparently it's done,' his father interrupted. Jacob's mother looked at James in surprise.

‘Well, I only meant—'

‘And I meant it's decided. We're all having Christmas in Scotland.' Jacob couldn't quite tell if his father was pleased or disappointed by this news until he smiled, a broad grin that spread slowly across his whole face.

The tension in Jacob's shoulders relaxed slightly. This
was
a good idea after all.

‘It'll be good to see Clara again too,' James said, casting a meaningful look in Jacob's direction.

Jacob wasn't at all sure that Clara planned to hang around long enough to be seen, but the moment his dad spoke the words he knew he'd try to make it so. His dad had always adored Clara; they'd had a strange connection she'd never quite managed with his mum or sister. Suddenly, Clara was just one more thing Jacob wanted to give his father for his perfect Christmas.

Even if it was only temporary. After all, Clara had never stayed past Boxing Day.

CHAPTER SIX

‘H
AVE
WE
GOT
the decorations?' Clara asked, checking the list on her clipboard for the fiftieth time. They'd started their final checks at 6:00 a.m., and now it was almost seven. The early start was a pain, but necessary. Nothing could go wrong with this project.

‘Ours or theirs?' Merry's head popped out from deep inside a box emblazoned with courier logos. ‘I mean we have both, but which list are you ticking off right now?'

‘Theirs first.' Organising two perfect Christmases at once had turned out to be rather more work than Clara had anticipated. What with Jacob's ever-increasing wish list and Ivy's last-minute announcement that, actually, she needed to send another letter to Father Christmas because she'd changed her mind about the colour of her bike, the last week had been rather more tense than Clara had hoped for.

Still, it was only two days until Christmas Day and the courier boxes were almost ready to go. Most would be sent to the Highland castle for the Fosters' Christmas, and one or two would go to the hotel down the hill from the castle where Clara, Merry and Ivy would be spending their Christmas.

Ivy was still snoozing at home with her usual childminder, who'd come over super early as a favour. Clara had them all booked on the mid-morning train, first class, and planned to be at the hotel in time for tea.

She had an hour-by-hour plan for the next seventy two hours, much to Merry's amusement. But there was plenty of setting up still to be done, and Clara wasn't taking a single chance with the project. Everything had to be sorted, seamless and—most important—all in place before Jacob and his family arrived on Christmas Eve. That way she could be back at the hotel with Ivy and Merry in time for mince pies and mulled wine by the fire, and she wouldn't have to see her ex-in-laws at all. She couldn't run the risk of any of them meeting Ivy before Clara wanted them to.

It was all going to be perfect, as long as they stuck to the plan.

The plan also had an extra secret page that Merry would never see. A page planning exactly how and where to tell Jacob about Ivy. At the moment, she was opting for January. She'd set up a meeting with him early in the New Year, ostensibly to review the Perfect Christmas Project and discuss terms for the divorce. There was no sense in doing it sooner—she was pretty sure that discovering he was a father would
not
give Jacob his ideal Christmas. And by January surely she'd know for sure how best to do it.

Merry taped closed the box of decorations and added it to the stack waiting for the courier. ‘Okay. What's next?'

‘Presents.' It might have taken five hours, but Clara was pretty sure they'd found just the right gifts for Jacob's family. Of course, if they had any sense they'd know instantly that Jacob hadn't chosen them by himself. But then, Clara had found in the past with clients that they believed what they wanted to believe. So the chances were that James, Sheila and Heather would all open their gifts on Christmas morning and gush at how wonderful they were to Jacob.

Quite honestly, as long as Clara wasn't there to see it, she didn't care if the whole family spontaneously began believing in Santa again when they opened them.

‘Right. I've got all the gifts from Jacob to his family here, wrapped and labelled. I've got the presents that he dropped round from his mum and dad to ship up there too. And I've got Ivy's bike, plus her stocking, and a suspiciously shiny gold parcel with no tag on it...' Merry looked at Clara expectantly, gold parcel in hand. She gave it a little shake and listened carefully.

Clara rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, that's yours. And no, you can't open it until Christmas Day.'

‘Spoilsport.' Merry pouted.

‘What about our suitcases?' Clara asked as Merry put the gold parcel back in the courier box.

‘All packed and ready to go too.' Merry gave her a patient smile. ‘Honestly, Clara, I know you want everything to be just perfect, but we're on top of it. In fact we've gone one better than Santa already.'

Clara frowned. ‘One better than Santa?'

‘We've already made our list and checked it at least
three
times! We're ready. It's time to start looking forward to Christmas instead of fretting about it.'

Clara didn't think she was going to be looking forward to anything until at least January the first—especially with the Harrisons' Charity Gala still to pull off when they got back from Scotland. She'd been working double time after Ivy was in bed all week to try and get everything organised, and to make sure she could still take Boxing Day off to spend with her girl.

‘I just don't want anything to go wrong. We just need to stick to the plan...'

As she said the words, the door from the street opened and she felt her heart drop. There, standing in the doorway in his coat and bright red wool scarf, was the one person guaranteed to make her life more difficult.

‘Jacob,' she said, trying to muster up a smile. It would all be so much easier if the very sight of him didn't send her mind spiralling into thoughts of what might have been, all over again. ‘You're up bright and early. What can we do for you? We're pretty much ready to go here, so if you've got anything you need to add to the courier boxes, speak now.'

‘No, I think you're right.' He flashed her a smile but his eyes were still serious. ‘We're all ready to go.'

‘Great!' Merry clapped her hands together. ‘In that case, I'll get these picked up and we can go and catch our train!' Clara allowed herself just a smidgen of hope. Maybe her plan could stay intact after all.

‘Actually, I came here to suggest some alternative arrangements,' Jacob said.

No. No alternative arrangements. No deviating from the plan.

Clara swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry and uncomfortable. ‘Alternative arrangements?'

‘Yes. It seems silly for you to go by train when I'm driving up myself. We'd get up there with much more time to spare. Why don't you come with me?'

Clara glanced across at Merry, wondering how exactly to explain without words that driving to Scotland with her ex-husband sounded like the worst idea anyone had ever had in the history of the world. From the wideness of Merry's eyes, she suspected her friend already knew that.

And she didn't even know about Ivy being Jacob's daughter.

Oh, this was just a nightmare.

* * *

Jacob watched as Clara and Merry appeared to undertake some sort of lengthy conversation without actually saying anything. He wished he was adept at translating the facial expressions and eye movements they employed but, as it was, he couldn't follow at all.

Still, he could probably guess the gist of it. Clara would be begging her friend to help her get out of driving to Scotland with him, and Merry would be asking how, exactly, she wanted her to do that.

He was still the client, after all. And the client was always satisfied when it came to Perfect London.

The idea of asking Clara to drive up with him hadn't occurred to him until he was halfway home from his parents' house the day before. Once it had, it had all seemed astonishingly simple.

His father wanted Clara there for Christmas. And, if he was honest, so did Jacob. This was a last-chance family Christmas and, whether she liked it or not, Clara was still family. She was still his wife.

But not for much longer. He was ready to let her go. But if keeping her by his side one last time made his dad feel like all was right with the world, then Jacob would make it happen.

He'd spent the last fifteen years trying to win back his father's pride and love through the family business. It was time to try something new—and marrying Clara had been one of the few decisions Jacob had made outside business that his dad had ever approved of.

Besides, Clara
owed
him. She'd walked out, left him alone on the day after Christmas with barely a word of explanation. Well, there'd been a letter, but it hadn't made any sense to him.

All he'd understood was that he'd failed. Failed as a husband, as a partner. Failed at the whole institution of marriage.

And Fosters did not fail. That one universal truth had been drilled into him from birth and even now it rang through his bones, chastising him every time he thought of Clara.

Jacob had failed once in his life—just the once that mattered—before he'd met Clara. And after that he'd vowed that it would never happen again.

This Christmas, fate had given him a chance to keep that vow. To prove to his father that he was still a success.

He just needed to convince Clara to go along with it.

Eight hours trapped in a car with him should do it, he reckoned.

‘So?' he asked, breaking up the silent discussion going on before him. ‘What do you think? Drive up with me? You can choose the music.' Which, given what he knew of Clara's musical taste, was quite the concession indeed.

‘I can't,' she said, sounding apologetic even though he knew she wasn't. ‘I've already got a seat booked on the train up with Merry, and we'll have a few last-minute items to bring up with us...'

‘I'm sure she can manage that alone, can't you, Merry?' Jacob turned his best smile onto the petite redhead. Merry, flustered, turned to Clara, her hands outspread.

‘I don't know,' she said. ‘Can I?'

‘Well, there's that...um...extra special thing that needs...transporting,' Clara said, the words coming out halting and strange.

Interesting.
Given that he was paying for and had ordered everything that needed to go up to Scotland, what exactly was she trying to hide from him?

Merry knew, it seemed, and caught on instantly. ‘Exactly. I mean, if you're happy for me to transport...it, then of course I will. I mean, I'm sure we'll...I'll...I'm sure it will be fine,' she finished, obviously unable to say whatever it was she actually wanted to.

Something else for Jacob to uncover during that eight-hour drive.

‘Are you sure? I mean it's a big...responsibility,' Clara said, and the concern in her eyes told him that this had nothing to do with his Christmas. Which just made the whole thing even more interesting.

Merry shook her head. ‘It'll be fine,' she said, belying the movement. ‘Honestly. I'll just meet you up there with...it.'

‘Okay. Well.' Clara turned to Jacob. ‘I guess, if you insist.'

‘I do,' Jacob confirmed. ‘You and I have an awful lot to talk about.'

Clara actually winced at that. He almost wasn't sure he blamed her.

He was going to have a lot of fun on this drive.

‘Are you ready to go now?' he asked, more to fluster her than anything else.

‘Now?' Her eyes grew extra wide and she looked to Merry in panic. ‘No! I mean, I have to do a few things first. And pop home. Um, can we leave a little later?'

By which point they wouldn't arrive any earlier than the train. Since his reasoning for insisting she travel with him was sketchy enough to start with, he really didn't want to put the journey off any longer than necessary.

‘I'll pick you up at nine,' Jacob said. ‘That gives you over an hour and a half to get everything squared away here. I'm sure, for someone with your efficiency and work ethic, that will be plenty of time.'

‘I'm sure it will,' Clara said. But he was pretty sure she was talking through gritted teeth.

He'd take it, anyway.

‘I'll see you then,' Jacob said, turning and leaving the office.

* * *

It was a rush but Clara managed to get home, explain to her daughter and childminder that Ivy was going to have a brilliant train adventure with Merry and meet Mummy in Scotland, apologise to Merry again for putting her in this position, explain all of Ivy's routines and travel quirks, load her friend up with games, colouring books, snacks and other entertainment for the journey, grab her case and get back to Perfect London by nine o'clock.

Which was why she was still reapplying lipstick and trying to do something with her weather-stricken hair when Jacob arrived again, looking every bit as calm and collected as he had been when he'd demanded that she travel with him.

She'd loathed him when he'd insisted. Even though she knew the problem was half hers. If she'd been able to explain about Ivy, he'd have understood and probably relented. But she couldn't—and even Merry was starting to get suspicious.

At first a one-night stand had seemed like the ideal explanation, when she had realised she was pregnant just weeks after walking out on her husband. The dates were close enough to be believable—even likely, given that Ivy had been born a full two weeks late. But still, it was a little too close for Clara's comfort.

She'd been telling the ‘ill-advised one-night stand who didn't want to know when she told him she was pregnant' story for so long now, sometimes she almost believed it herself. But then Ivy would do something—look at her a certain way, tilt her head the same way Jacob did, or just open those all too familiar blue eyes wide—and she'd know without a doubt that Ivy was Jacob's daughter.

Of course, barring a miracle, she'd have to be. There hadn't been anyone else for Clara since she'd left. Or before, for that matter.

‘Are you ready?' Jacob asked, eyebrows raised.

Clara pushed the lid back onto her lipstick, checked her reflection one last time, then nodded.

‘Ready.'

Part of her wasn't even sure why she was bothering with make-up, just to sit in a car with Jacob for hours. But another part knew the truth. This was warpaint, a mask, camouflage. All of the above.

She needed something between her and her ex-husband. Something to stop him seeing through her and discovering the truth she'd been hiding all these years.

Truths
, really. But one of those she wouldn't admit even to herself. ‘Let's go,' she said, striding past him.