Twins For Christmas: A Little Christmas Magic / Lone Star Twins / A Family This Christmas

He kissed Poppy and nodded farewell to Emma. And it only took that microsecond of a look to realise that there were other things he wasn’t about to forget either.

However much he wished he could.

CHAPTER SIX (#u17272c76-63e4-59e3-bc93-a8ee25d373a1)

HE’D BEEN WRONG about the ghost in the attic.

Adam realised that the instant he stepped through the hole in the ceiling, even before he turned to help first Oliver and then Poppy to climb off the steep set of stairs cleverly concealed behind a door that had been locked for years.

The light switch he flicked made several bulbs glow but the light was inadequate for the huge space. Despite the shadows, however, his gaze went straight towards that long rack of dresses in the far corner where the roofline sloped sharply towards the small latticed windows. And the stacks of boxes beside it, full of other clothing and shoes and handbags. He could even make out the jewellery case sitting on top.

They represented what had attracted him to Tania in the first place. The beauty. The glamour. In retrospect he was ashamed of how shallow it was to judge people on their outward appearance like that. Look at how he’d judged Emma in her oversized clothes with her musical accessory as a refugee from the sixties. If fate hadn’t stepped in and made it imperative that he give her a chance, he might never have discovered what an astonishing person lay beneath that appearance.

And fate had been responsible for discovering the real reason for more and more of those ‘shopping’ trips that Tania had needed to keep her happy. Had she even worn half those clothes or had they only ever been a mask for her infidelity?

The presence of Tania’s ghost was all he was aware of by the time Emma’s head appeared through the hole.

‘Oof … I feel like I’m climbing a mountain.’

The steps were certainly steep but shouldn’t have been enough to make a young woman like Emma seem out of breath. Adam could feel his frown deepening as he automatically held out his hand to assist her. For a moment he thought she might refuse the offer but then he felt his hand grasped firmly as she climbed the last of the steps.

Like the children, Emma’s eyes widened as she looked around. ‘Oh, wow … This is a real attic. Full of treasure.’

She was grinning at Adam now and she still hadn’t let go of his hand. He could feel the connection and it was warm and as alive as the sparkle in her eyes.

She’d never be able to cover up a lie, would she? Not with the way her emotions played over her face like this. The idea that she might need to lie felt ridiculous. The conviction that Emma would never be unfaithful to a man she loved came from nowhere.

So did the unexpected pang of something that felt like envy. Letting go of her hand didn’t entirely dispel the disturbing sensation. Whoever it was, he would be a very lucky man.

‘Ohh …’ The gasp from Poppy was full of wonder. ‘Look, Emma … It’s a pram.’

She ran towards the part of the attic on the opposite side from where Tania’s effects had been stored. Alongside an antique pram that had probably carried his grandmother and the double model that had been for the twins much more recently, was a smaller cane one. The one that had caught Poppy’s eye had been made for small girls to carry dolls in. Adam had completely forgotten it was up here.

‘Can I play with it, Daddy? Please?’

‘Of course you can, chicken. We’ll take it downstairs and clean all the dust off. I think it might have been Gran’s when she was a little girl like you.’

Maybe it was the delight on Poppy’s face or the warmth he could still feel from Emma’s hand but the presence of Tania’s ghost was receding. Being pushed into the past where it belonged by not only being in the present but thinking about the immediate future when they would all be safely downstairs and he could lock the old door again.

Poppy was squeaking with pleasure as she manoeuvred the cane pram out from behind the bigger wheels of the others. Oliver was not far away from her, peering into a tin trunk in front of a pile of old leather suitcases. His quietness wasn’t unusual but the intent body language was unmistakeable.

‘What have you found, Ollie?’

‘I think it’s a … train.’

It had been some time since he’d let go of Emma’s hand. Odd that he still could feel the absence of it so strongly. Maybe moving further away from her would help. Adam walked towards his son.

‘It is a train. An old wind-up one.’ He lifted the heavy, metal engine from the trunk to hand to Oliver and then reached to pick up something else. ‘These are the tracks that you can clip together. I used to play with it when I was your age, Ollie. And my father played with it when he was a little boy. I’m pretty sure he got it for a Christmas present one year.’

Oliver’s face was solemn. ‘That’s what I’d like for my Christmas present.’

‘You can’t buy these now.’ Emma had come over to look as well. ‘They’re very old and very special. Antiques. Adam, this is extraordinary. Is that a harp over there?’

‘Aye.’ There was a dusty, old cello keeping it company. Music had been in his family for generations. When had it stopped so completely? When his desire to make it had died along with the trauma of Tania’s death?

Oliver was crouching beside the tin trunk with the train engine cradled in his arms.

Adam crouched down beside him. ‘You don’t have to wait till Christmas, Ollie. We’ll take this downstairs, too, and you can play with it whenever you want.’

Oliver looked as though he couldn’t believe his luck. As if something truly magic had just happened, and something squeezed inside Adam’s chest. How easy it was to make children happy but he had never given a thought to the abandoned toys up here. He would never have thought of even unlocking that door if he hadn’t remembered the Christmas decorations.

And he wouldn’t have considered retrieving those if it hadn’t been for Emma pushing him towards celebrating Christmas again.

Right now Emma was plucking the strings of the old harp, sending dust motes flying into the dim light in the attic. And she was singing … just softly. More of a hum really—as though she was in her own world and making music came as naturally as breathing.

Poppy had left the cane pram. She had a sad old teddy bear with an almost severed arm dangling from one hand and she was skipping through the gaps towards that corner.

Adam got to his feet hurriedly. ‘Let’s find those decorations,’ he said. ‘And get downstairs. I can hear Benji crying in the kitchen.’

But it was too late. Poppy had found the rack of dresses and her cry of delight made Emma stop playing with the harp and look up. Adam tried to distract them. He’d had an idea of where the boxes of decorations were and he flipped one open and held up a handful of tinsel and then a huge silver star.

‘Here we are. Look at this star. Shall we put it on top of our tree?’

‘Daddy … are these Mummy’s dresses?’

The shocked look on Emma’s face said it all. The ghost was here again. The tug of nostalgia and the pleasure in finding unexpected gifts for his children vanished. Now he could feel the pain of loss yet again. The guilt. The burden of the lie that kept the mother of his children as a perfect memory.

‘It’s a blue dress. Emma, look. You’re going to make me a blue dress for when I’m Mary in the play, aren’t you?’

‘Um … yeah …’ Emma had started to go towards Poppy but she’d stopped right beside Adam and she gave him an uncertain glance. ‘Come on, sweetheart. We need to go downstairs. It’s nearly teatime.’

But Poppy wouldn’t let go of the folds of the shimmery, blue dress. ‘Why are Mummy’s clothes here, Daddy?’

Adam had to clear his throat. ‘I …’ What could he say? He’d had to get them out of sight and this had seemed the quickest and easiest solution? ‘Maybe I thought you’d want them one day, Poppy.’

He hoped she wouldn’t, he realised suddenly. He didn’t want his daughter growing up to be consumed with keeping up appearances. Better that she didn’t care. That she was happy to wear baggy jumpers and peculiar, bright hats and could shine with an inner joy instead. Like Emma.

‘I want this one now, Daddy. For the play.’

‘It wouldn’t fit you.’

‘Emma could make it fit.’

‘Could you?’ Adam caught Emma’s gaze again.

She still looked uncertain but nodded. ‘I guess so … but …’

‘That’s settled, then.’ Adam wanted to get out of there. As quickly as possible. ‘You and Ollie go downstairs with Emma and I’ll bring the dress down with the other things.’