Midwife Under The Mistletoe

‘Me too. I should’ve asked before I did my sugar-plum fairy act. I got a bit carried away.’

‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ There was that grin again and Iona wondered if it was reserved for the privileged few or it only made appearances out of working hours. It was unnerving that she even wanted to know what her relevance was to the rare sighting.

‘It’s my first Christmas in my own home, free from demanding family members, messy flatmates and fussy co-workers. Excuse me for being a tad over-excited.’ It spoke volumes that the first purchases for her new place had been an abundance of Christmas paraphernalia instead of essential household appliances.

‘I can’t say I understand the need for the fuss but each to their own as long as it doesn’t leak onto the premises again.’ Fraser verbally slapped the back of her hand but she’d had much worse from other men she’d inadvertently ticked off in the past.

‘What do you have against Christmas anyway?’ Since they appeared to have embarked on a truce, Iona thought it best to find out as much as she could about the elusive doctor before the clock chimed and he transformed back into his monstrous alter-ego.

She could see the inner struggle he was having as to whether or not to share the reasons behind his anti-Christmas stance in his hesitation to reply. He was watching her as though judging if she was trustworthy enough to keep his secrets.

Eventually Fraser sighed and said, ‘My mother died on Christmas Eve. I was six when they first discovered she had breast cancer. I haven’t really celebrated since, packed off out of the way to boarding school when she first became ill. Come to think of it, I don’t remember ever celebrating even before I associated her death with Christmas. It’s just not a point in my life I’m keen to relive every year.’

The heartfelt explanation shook Iona to her core—she had never expected such an honest and bleak insight into his background. As someone whose job was all about families and protecting young children, it was only natural Fraser’s story should get her choked up. She knew how traumatic it was to lose a mother but at such a young age he must’ve suffered dreadfully.

It explained a lot about his negative outlook on the season and she winced at how tactless her actions now seemed with hindsight. The shock of seeing those decorations would’ve brought those painful memories flooding back to him and it was no wonder he’d been angry at her. She was sorry that he’d been denied the joy in sharing Christmas with family but she didn’t want to pry too far into his personal life and jeopardise their ceasefire. It wasn’t as though she was keen to discuss Christmases gone by either.

‘I understand that and I’m really sorry for your loss but if you ever need someone to sprinkle a little Christmas magic, you know where to find me.’ It wasn’t a serious offer when it was probably too late to change his opinion on the subject but she did manage to get him to smile.

‘I certainly do but don’t let my hang-ups encroach on your obvious enthusiasm. You’re perfectly entitled to celebrate however you choose, in your personal life.’

‘It is a big deal for me this year,’ Iona said apologetically, understanding his point of view but also determined to go all out for herself.

‘In that case, we should start with getting you moved in properly.’ Fraser turned off the lights and ushered her towards the door so he could set the alarm.

Ready or not, her new best friend was coming home with her for the night.

CHAPTER THREE (#u6142c713-cbd1-5409-9f02-dbe1f719002f)

‘LET ME GET that for you.’ Fraser made a grab for the door while balancing a heavy cardboard box in his other hand.

‘It’s fine. I can manage.’ Iona, who could barely be seen over the top of the stacked boxes in her arms, insisted on doing it herself.

‘No problem.’ He took a step back so she wouldn’t think he was trying to crowd her. Iona was so independent Fraser always felt he was in her way somehow, even though she would never have managed to move all of this on her own.

None of this had been in his plans tonight. He had, instead, been anticipating another quiet night in with nothing but the clock chimes echoing through the house to disturb him. It had been his guilty conscience preventing him from walking away from the whole situation when he’d heard from other staff members how excited she’d been about moving in tonight.

Iona nudged the door open with her bottom but he wasn’t sure how they were going to manoeuvre her belongings up the narrow staircase leading to the flat above the shop.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just...this is a milestone for me.’ The apology was as much of a surprise as the tears he could see making her eyes shine like glossy chocolate. It was clearly an emotional moment for her and probably for more than the reasons she’d given him. He’d experienced something similar when he’d taken over the family home after his father had passed away, believing it was going to be the start of his new life with a wife and children, surrounded by love for the first time. Before then, being on his own had been something he’d simply taken for granted because he didn’t remember life before it.

Even if he hadn’t had his hands full, Iona didn’t give him a chance to pry any further as she made her way upstairs. Clearly the sharing of personal information was only coming from one direction tonight. Fraser had surprised himself by telling her about his mother’s death. It wasn’t something he usually told people and certainly not those he had trouble getting along with. However, he did want to explain his behaviour surrounding the Christmas issue so she wouldn’t hate him too much. Since she hadn’t slammed the door on him, Fraser had assumed he’d made the right move.

He’d kept finding excuses to stay behind at the surgery tonight—paperwork, the weather, waiting for news on the Gillens—but as soon as Iona had arrived he’d realised he’d been waiting to see her again so he could make it up to her for spoiling her plans. He had been sure she would come back to make preparations for the next working day and he suspected his overtime had been driven partially by curiosity over that frisson between them last night. It had definitely been attraction on his part, unexpected and somewhat inconvenient since they were co-workers and not harmonious ones at that.

Wandering the empty corridors of his family home, Fraser had little else to focus on other than his work and now that it had become entangled in his personal life it was impossible not to spend the night thinking about Iona.

He didn’t know what he’d expected to come of seeing her after hours but he certainly hadn’t imagined going home with her. With their history he’d never thought she’d actually agree to let him help.

It wasn’t immediately obvious if her concession was for purely practical reasons or if she, too, was keen to explore that new chemistry between them. He wasn’t about to ask when any possible answer was sure to unsettle him more. A dalliance with a colleague was totally out of the question, too disruptive, too close to home, and it had disaster written all over it. He couldn’t afford to have his love life screwing things up at work when he was just beginning to get things the way he wanted.

‘I know what you’re thinking.’

Fraser nearly dropped Iona’s belongings at being caught having inappropriate thoughts about her.

‘What’s that?’ He aimed for a neutral ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’ tone as he stacked his box on top of the ones she’d positioned on the floor. There was still a car full of bric-a-brac outside but he reckoned he could unload it into the hall in double-quick time if he incurred her wrath.

‘Why would I leave a pretty chocolate-box cottage for this only a few days before Christmas?’

Once it became clear his thoughts remained private, Fraser deemed it safe to engage in conversation again. ‘It’s none of my business.’

Since she’d pointed it out, the contrast between the homely bungalow he’d helped her empty to come to this shell of an apartment did raise questions.

‘I mean, Mrs Dunlop said I was welcome to stay as my rent is paid up until the New Year.’

‘But you’re excited about having your own place? I think you mentioned that.’ Fraser could tell how happy Iona was. Her smile was warm enough to heat the whole building—which was just as well because he doubted the central heating had been on since the last tenant had vacated the property.

Personally, Fraser couldn’t see the attraction but, given how Iona had no qualms about making her mark at the surgery, he was certain she’d quickly make it a home. As soon as she bought some furniture. Unless this was one of those futuristic, space-saving apartments where the fixtures and fittings popped up from the floor at the touch of a button, she really didn’t have any furniture of note.

Iona’s quirks were in danger of bringing Fraser out in hives, her inability to plan ahead making him itch. When he’d transferred his stuff from his bachelor pad to the family home he’d allocated a specific timescale for completion, with all his things boxed and labelled accordingly for the removal company. Iona had randomly chucked things into cardboard boxes and bin liners with no forethought given to how she expected to find anything again. Even if she hadn’t got caught up at work, there was no way she’d have managed to get things in order in the space of one afternoon.

‘I do have a bed, well, a mattress, and there’s a kettle here somewhere.’ She began rifling through everything, unwrapping the contents until the floorboards were littered with bits of newspaper and kitchen paraphernalia.

‘I’ll go and bring the rest in.’ Fraser couldn’t stand back and watch this level of chaos without wanting to fix it. Something he knew Iona wouldn’t appreciate. This wasn’t his mess or responsibility and he had to get used to the fact Iona had chosen to live this way.

By the time he’d lugged the rest of her trash chic luggage into the flat Iona had moved into the kitchen. It would be generous to call the space open-plan, it was more in keeping with a student bedsit or, in its current state, a squat.

He shuddered as he set the bags down in the one space he could find amongst the mess she’d already created.

‘If that’s everything, I’ll head home.’ Back to his pristine house, which didn’t look as though it had just been burgled.

‘Look what I found!’ Ignoring his plea to be released back into civilised society, Iona held up the elusive kettle and two mismatched mugs.

‘Great,’ Fraser muttered through clenched teeth, accepting his fate. It wouldn’t help relations between them if he declined her hospitality when she was trying to be friendly.

‘For a job well done.’ Iona clinked her mug to his once she’d completed her task, oblivious to his discomfort in the corduroy beanbag serving as his seat during their tea break. The chipped cartoon cat mug he was drinking from was a world away from his mother’s fine china he’d become accustomed to.

‘So, er, what are your plans for the place?’ The old outhouse, long forgotten somewhere on the family estate, was more inviting than these four bare walls, yet Iona was so pleased with it Fraser wondered what kind of place she was used to.

Iona shrugged and slurped her tea. ‘I’ll get some paint to freshen it up a bit for Christmas and I’ll pick up whatever bits and pieces I need along the way.’

Fraser snorted in disbelief at her laissez-faire attitude to being a homeowner. For someone so fastidious about her work and keeping track of her patients, Iona was very blasé about her own personal life.

‘We’re very different creatures, you and I.’ Fraser supposed she would be as ill at ease with his set-up—with the family heirlooms giving it that look-but-don’t-touch vibe that made people hover nervously—as he was here.

‘I thought we’d figured that out a long time ago.’ She was teasing, even though there’d been nothing funny about their previous arguments.

‘We’ve had our moments.’ This insight into Iona’s chaotic world, such a contrast to the one Fraser had created around himself, made sense of their feisty exchanges. They were completely different people and living up to that adage about opposites. Last night they’d finally recognised the attraction even if they hadn’t acted on it.