Marion Lennox - Christmas with her Boss

She sniffed and blew her nose and there was nothing he could say to make her feel better. He retrieved some of his leftover chocolates. They shared their chocolate and their silence, and neither of them was happy.

I love him so much…

There was a lot in that statement to avoid thinking about. He decided he’d think about the rest.

Night’s my favourite time…

He hated Christmas night. Christmas Day was usually bearable-there were always social functions, and last year he’d had Pip and Ned. Only at the end…

When the day’s over, snuggling down and talking about it…

That was what was missing. He’d never figured it out. How could he miss what he’d never known?

Christmas night alone… He always did Christmas night alone.

Maybe he’d be home in time to see Pip and Ned.

He checked his phone and then remembered. No reception.

‘You can ring when we go through towns,’ the girl told him. ‘Only you need to talk fast.’

When the day’s over, snuggling down and talking about it…

The last twenty-four hours had been huge. Who could he talk about it with?

They were approaching a town. Sure enough, reception bars appeared on his cellphone. He rang Manhattan. Elinor. She answered on the first ring.

‘What’s wrong?’ She sounded breathless and he realised it was one in the morning back home. Night-time.

When the day’s over, snuggling down and talking about it…

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve woken you.’

‘Oh, Mr McMaster, it’s you,’ she said. ‘No, I was just stuffing stockings, so you didn’t wake me. I’m glad you rang. I have such good news.’

‘You do?’

‘The children… Their mother’s finally agreed to their adoption. The agency contacted me this morning. There’s a couple… They lost their children in a car accident five years ago and they so want a family. They sound lovely and there’s grandmas and grandpas; everything these children most need. So tomorrow, after Christmas lunch, they’re coming to visit. It’s only first contact, but oh, they sound nice. These children so need a family.’

‘They do,’ he said and somehow he managed to keep his voice from sounding bereft. Bereft? Of all the stupid sensations…

And Elinor heard it-he knew she did. ‘There’s so many needy children out there,’ she said, her voice growing sombre. ‘You know that. There’s always more to be looked after.’

And he heard her pain as well. She’d be giving up these children and moving on. ‘Oh, Elinor.’ She loved with all her heart. You didn’t love without hurting. Where had he learned that? Was he just starting?

‘Yeah, it hurts,’ she said across his thoughts, and he could almost see her steeling herself. ‘But, if you don’t love, then you might as well stop living. This family live right nearby so we’ll see each other in the park. So how about you? Will we see you tomorrow? I mean, today?’

‘My flight won’t get in until late.’

‘Oh, the children will be disappointed,’ she said, but in a tone that said not too disappointed; they were about to meet their new mommy and daddy. What more did children need for Christmas?

‘So you’ll be flying all Christmas,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘There’s no need to be sorry,’ he said, startled.

‘Well, there is,’ she said, and she sounded truly concerned. ‘It’s time you stayed put. I know you’re important and I know you’re busy but you have a good heart, Mr McMaster, and it’s time you found somewhere to park it. I’ve done my share of parking in my time, but have you? You need to find somewhere you can leave it for good.’

The train had streamed through the town and out the other side. Reception was starting to break up. He could barely hear.

Maybe it was just as well, William thought. What sort of advice was this? He wished her Merry Christmas, but he didn’t hear a response. He clicked off his phone and stared out of the window. Trying not to replay her words.

‘Bad news?’ the young mother asked.

‘I…no. Good news, really.’

‘You don’t look like it was good news.’

‘It’s okay.’

He wanted to tell her about it. Only…if he told her…how could he make it sound like good news? She’d guess how he felt, he thought, as Elinor had guessed. As Meg would guess?

He wanted to tell Meg.

When the day’s over, snuggling down and talking about it…

Such a thing wasn’t for him. For a McMaster to…snuggle…Unthinkable.

He stared out at the sparse Australian landscape, so unlike Manhattan, and he thought of his family-the McMaster dynasty. Damaged people all. Deeply unhappy. Poisoned by wealth and by social expectations. Unhappy unions had created unhappy children, and on it went, for generation after generation, spreading outward.

How could he ask someone to join such a family?

He couldn’t. He’d sworn he never would. But, if not…

The thought came from nowhere, and it started as a jumble. A Christmas tree with decorations from childhood. Letty’s mango trifle. Cows and dogs. Gumboots parked at the back door. Meg’s laughter…

Crazy Santa legs. Scott amid a jumble of Mini parts. The feel of Meg against him in the emergency room.

This was a family so unlike his own it was unbelievable, and the jumbled thought unravelled, settled and finally left a clear thought that was amazing.

If his family was unworkable…

Maybe he could join another?

The conductor was coming through now, checking tickets and, before he could take the thought any further, he found himself asking, ‘Is there another train tonight?’

‘To where?’

‘To where I got on.’

‘To Tandaroit? You have to be joking. Once a day to Tandaroit. Next train leaves tomorrow night from Melbourne.’

‘Do you want to go back?’ the woman across the way asked as the conductor moved on.

‘Maybe,’ William said, feeling dazed.

‘To the girl you were kissing on the station?’

And there it was, front and centre. The girl he’d been kissing on the station.

‘Who is she?’ the woman asked and he managed a smile.

‘She was Miss Jardine,’ he said softly. ‘But now…her name is Meg.’

MEG liked Christmas night, or she always had. Christmas was huge, busy, noisy, fun, and it left her happy. Even the first appalling Christmas after the accident, she and Letty had managed to make it fun and she’d slept that night feeling just a little bit optimistic about the future.

So why wasn’t she feeling optimistic now?

Kerrie stayed and helped with the milking while Letty and Scott cleaned up inside and minded the children. After tea, they loaded the sleeping children into Kerrie’s car and bade them goodnight. Kerrie drove off and Meg found herself feeling jealous. Kerrie would be snuggling the children into bed.

Um… Kerrie was a struggling single mother who worked herself raw. Was she jealous because she had babies?

Was she jealous of what they represented?

Scott and Letty went to bed, tired and happy after what they decreed had been an awesome Christmas. ‘We should invite William every year,’ Scott said sleepily and Meg felt even more bereft.

The dogs had eaten too many leftovers. They were asleep; useless as company.

She went across to the home paddock to talk to Millicent, but Millicent was snoozing as well.

She walked back to the house, kicking stones, disconsolate. Santa was still waving back and forth in his chimney.

‘I wonder if I can shoot him down with one of the bazookas?’ she asked herself but she couldn’t dredge up a smile.

She didn’t want to smile. She wanted to wallow.

She climbed into her pyjamas and went to bed. She thumped her pillows for a while, then gave up and headed back into the kitchen to pour herself the last of the eggnog. She stared into its depths and then carefully tipped it down the sink.

‘Let’s not drown our sorrows here,’ she told herself. ‘We need to be nice and sober to read the Job Vacancy ads tomorrow.’

She sniffed. ‘Ooh, who’s maudlin? And I haven’t even drunk my eggnog.’

William would be back in Melbourne now. She looked at her watch. No. William would be in the sky.

She glanced out of the window at the stars beyond. Nothing and nothing and nothing.

And…something. A tiny light, growing brighter.

It was a small plane, she thought, low in the east. Some private charter, going places now the restrictions were lifted. Good for them.

The light was getting brighter. Brighter still. And the sound…

Not a plane, then. A helicopter.

Closer still. Low and fast.

Who…?

And then she thought…

No.

Yes?

This was stupid. She was imagining things. Maybe there’d been an accident somewhere close and this was an air transfer. That’d be it.

But it was over their land now. Hovering. Lights were beaming down.

It’d panic the cows.

But, even as she thought it, she realised it wasn’t hovering over the cow pastures. The paddock underneath was at the eastern extremity of the property, where the hay had been slashed only yesterday.

Whoever was in the chopper knew the paddock was bare. Knew the paddock was safe.

It’d be… It’d be…

She daren’t think who it’d be.

It wouldn’t be William.

But the chopper was on her land.

The dogs had heard. Killer was at the kitchen door, his head to one side, listening.

‘I’ll take you with me,’ she told him, and then as the rest of the pack appeared, she nodded. ‘Okay, maybe I do need protection. Let’s all go and investigate.’

He stood in the paddock and he thought, whoa, it’s a long way to the house. He knew he couldn’t scare the cows; he knew this paddock would be a safe place to land, but still…