Firefighter's Christmas Baby

SUDDENLY IT FELT like Christmas. Callie was animated and smiling, approaching people on the edge of the crowd that had gathered around them and giving them leaflets. She seemed softer, warmer somehow. As if she’d dropped her defences and with them the hard edges that didn’t quite suit her.

‘Getting cold?’ Even though she was never still, she couldn’t disguise her red fingers. Gloves made it difficult to separate the leaflets and hand them out, and she’d taken hers off and stuffed them in her pocket.

‘Yes, a little.’ She smiled up at him, clearly not of a mind to let frozen fingers stop her.

‘There are flasks with hot coffee...’ He motioned up towards the cabin of the fire engine, which was now closed and dark. The families had all gone home now, and the crowd mainly consisted of revellers, wanting to squeeze the last moments from their pre-Christmas celebrations.

‘So that’s why everyone’s been nipping up there every now and then? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’d love some.’

‘You have to give out at least a hundred leaflets before you get coffee.’

‘Well, I’ve given out three handfuls. That must be a hundred so...’ She gripped the front of his jacket in a mock threat. ‘Give me my coffee, elf. Or else...’

However much he wanted to warm up, standing his ground now seemed like a delicious moment that couldn’t be missed. ‘Or else what?’

‘Or... I’ll make you collect up all the old wrapping paper, peel the sticky tape off it and smooth it flat to use next year.’ She grinned.

‘In that case...’ Submitting to the threat was another delicious moment that made the hairs on the back of Ben’s neck stand to attention. ‘This way, Santa.’

He led her over to the fire engine, opening the door for her, and Callie climbed up into the cockpit, sliding across to sit behind the wheel. Ben followed her, reaching for the three large flasks in the footwell. Two were already empty, but the third was heavy when he picked it up.

As he poured the coffee, he saw Callie’s fingers touch the bottom of the steering wheel lightly, as if she was yearning to take hold of it and pretend to drive, the way kids did when you sat them in that seat. She was looking ahead of her, the bright Christmas lights reflecting in her face, softening her features. Or maybe it was just the look on her face.

‘Thanks.’ She wrapped her fingers around the cup, clearly wanting to warm them before she drank. Ben poured a second cup for himself and propped it on the dashboard. The only heat he wanted right now was the heat of her smile.

‘You can try it out for size if you want.’ He nodded towards the steering wheel. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

The thought seemed tempting to her, but she shook her head. ‘Bit late for that now.’

‘It’s never too late...’ Ben let the thought roll in his head. It was an odd one, since he’d privately reckoned that it was too late for him.

And Callie seemed to think that too. She shook her head, turning to him with a smile. ‘Did you sit in a fire engine when you were a kid?’

‘All the time. My dad was a firefighter and he used to lift me up into the driving seat of the engines whenever my Mum took me to the fire station.’

‘So you knew all along what you wanted to be when you grew up.’

‘Yeah.’ Ben wondered which side of her life had been a childhood dream. Photographer or paramedic. ‘What did you want to be?’

‘Safe...’ The word had obviously escaped her lips before she had a chance to stop it, and Callie reddened a little.

‘Safe is a good ambition.’

Her gaze met his, a trace of mockery in it. Do you even know what safe is? Ben realised that it was the last thing he’d have thought about wanting when he’d been a child. He always had been safe.

For a moment the questions he wanted to ask hung in the cold air. Then Callie shrugged, grinning. ‘My dad died when I was six. He was a police officer and he was killed in the line of duty. That was when I found out that...anything can be taken away.’

‘I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it either. How did you deal with the risks of your father’s job?’

‘I guess... I never had to think about them. He always came home.’

‘And now? You must have thought about them when you joined the fire service.’

The question seemed important to her, and Ben thought carefully about his answer. ‘There are some things that are important enough to take risks to achieve. Without that, a life can become meaningless. And we don’t take risks for their own sake, you know that we’re all about safety.’

Callie nodded silently. She didn’t seem much convinced by his answer and Ben had the feeling he hadn’t heard the whole story.

‘But you never felt safe? As a child?’

‘I did for a while. Mum remarried and I thought that we’d go back to being a family.’ She shrugged. ‘Her new husband ran up a pile of debts and then disappeared. We lost our house and pretty much everything we owned. After that it was horrible. Mum worked all the time and I was scared to be in our bedsit on my own. We got back on our feet but it was a struggle for her.’

Callie spoke almost dispassionately, as if she didn’t care that she’d lost her father and then her home. In Ben’s experience that meant she cared a great deal.

Nothing he could say felt enough. He reached for her hand, feeling a deep thankfulness when she didn’t snatch it away.

‘Here...’ He guided her hand to the steering wheel, wrapping his over it. ‘How does that feel?’

She gave a nervous laugh. ‘That feels pretty good.’

‘Try the other one.’ He reached across, taking her coffee from the other hand, and Callie took hold of the steering wheel and gazed out ahead of her. Suddenly she laughed.

‘Okay. You’ve made your point. I’m sitting on top of...how many horsepower?’

‘About two hundred and fifty.’

‘That much? And I’m looking over everyone’s heads. It feels good.’

‘Is powerful the word you’re looking for?’ Ben remembered the feeling of sitting behind the wheel when he was a child. Of being able to do anything, meet any challenge. That seemed to be the ultimate safety.

‘That’ll do.’

Suddenly he wanted very badly to kiss her. If he really could meet any challenge then perhaps he could meet this one? But Callie took her hands from the steering wheel and the spell was broken. She reached for her cup, wrapping her fingers around it again, and sipped the hot coffee.

Large snowflakes began to fall from the night sky, drifting down and melting as soon as they touched the pavement. Ben ignored them in favour of watching her face. It tipped upwards as the snowfall became heavier, a sudden taste of the magic of Christmas. Callie wasn’t as unreachable as she tried to make out.

‘There’s always one, isn’t there?’ She quirked her lips down suddenly, and Ben could almost see the real world taking over from the imaginary. He followed her gaze, looking towards a couple of men in business suits and heavy overcoats, clearly involved in a drunken argument.

‘Yep.’ He wanted to tell her to disregard them. To come back with him to the world where it always snowed at Christmas, and where it was still possible to make up for all the things Callie hadn’t had during her childhood. But one of the men suddenly took a swing at the other.