Page 9 of The Merry Christmas Project

Cole tried to ignore the prickling sensation in his eyes. His beautiful boy, twelve today and growing up fast. Squashed beside him was eight-year-old Freya, his darling girl. And currently four and a half thousand miles away from him.

He remembered the night he’d dropped the kids back off at Lydia’s and she’d explained how she’d been headhunted out of the blue for her dream job and he’d nodded along, pleased for her, all the time wondering what the catch was, the reason why her body language was taut and jumpy, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. And then out it came: the job was in Whistler, the ski resort in Canada, a year-long contract overseeing the seasonnaires, the temporary staff recruited each winter to work in the hotels.

She’d listed all the reasons why it was a good move, not just for her, but for the kids too. She’d said her living expenses would be covered, there were excellent schools for the kids and a family ski pass giving them access to world-class slopes for an entire season. She’d acknowledged that it was a lot to ask and a lot to take in, and that she’d turn it down if he was really opposed to it, but that she’d truly felt that Harley and Freya would love the experience. He’d listened earnestly, promised to think it over properly and asked if she’d let him sleep on it. Then he went home and cried like his heart would break.

He looked at them via the screen now. They both had his colouring: dark red hair and brown eyes. Freya had Lydia’s fine glossy waves, but Harley’s was thick and straight like all the Robinson men. Cole swallowed the lump in his throat ; seeing their faces was the highlight of his day, but not being able to hold his children was torture.

When they first left, he couldn’t imagine ever being able to sleep soundly again, knowing they were on the other side of the world, out of reach, out of touch and that if anything bad happened, it would take him a day to get to them. Two months on, he was learning to live with it, but he’d never fully relaxed since then.

‘Have you had anything special for breakfast ?’ he asked, loading his voice with enthusiasm.

Harley nodded. ‘Pancakes with maple syrup and bacon.’

‘I had jam on mine.’

Cole grabbed his stomach and groaned. ‘So jealous, you lucky things. I want some too.’

His kids laughed and he laughed along with them, his heart bursting with love.

Cole always put a positive spin on their separation, telling them how amazing it all sounded, how lucky they were to be living where they were. But on some days maintaining the façade was agony. Scheduled video calls were great, but he missed pretending to tackle Harley as an excuse to hug him, he missed driving him to football practice which was when Harley would confide in him about what was going on in his life. He missed Freya running into his arms so he could swoop her up, hold her tight and smell her strawberry shampoo, he missed playing teddy bears’ picnic with her and though he never thought he’d say it, he even missed being forced to watch Moana on Saturdays.

‘Can I open my presents now ?’ Harley held up the big airmail box of presents that Cole had sent weeks in advance to make sure they arrived on time.

‘Of course.’ Cole grinned as Freya had to sit on her hands to stop herself from ‘helping’ while Harley ripped into the box.

‘Harley,’ Freya wheedled, ‘please may I open one ?’

Her brother ruffled her hair and sighed. ‘I suppose so.’

‘There’s one with your name on, sweetheart,’ Cole told her. ‘The wrapping paper has rainbows on it. Happy unbirthday.’

Harley held it out to her, and she gasped with joy.

Five minutes later the box had been emptied and Harley’s bed was covered in discarded wrapping paper.

‘Thanks for the headphones and the trainers, Dad,’ said Harley, already fitting the buds in his ears. ‘And I’ll call Granddad and Auntie Hester later to thank them.’

‘Good lad.’ Cole was proud of his eldest ; he was a good kid, smart and sociable, and according to Lydia, he was thriving in the outdoor life of the Canadian ski resort. He had a sudden flashback to the day Harley was born. He’d held his firstborn in his arms and made him a promise : I’ll always be there for you, always. Yet somehow, his boy was growing up on the other side of the world. If ever Cole had needed a reminder that he’d failed at fatherhood, this was it.

Freya held up her new bear to the screen. ‘I’m calling her Daisy. Kiss her, Daddy.’

Cole blew a kiss to the screen. ‘Hi Daisy, pleased to meet you.’

The significance of the name wasn’t lost on him. Daisy was the name of the best friend Freya had left behind when Lydia relocated to Canada, taking his kids with her. Two months was a long time in a child’s life to be away from a good friend. Maybe this was Freya’s way of telling him that she did miss home after all.

‘Say goodbye to Dad now, kids,’ he heard Lydia say in the background, ‘the school bus will be here soon.’

Cole felt his stomach sink ; in a few seconds they’d be gone again. ‘Have a great birthday, Harley, send me some photos later so I can see what you get up to. Bye bye, Freya, have a good day. I love you both.’

After the children had said their goodbyes, Cole got off the sofa, fetched a can of Coke from the fridge and took a long cool drink before heading to the shower, to wash off the grime which came with the territory of building houses for a living.

They were great kids, he thought, stripping off and shoving his clothes in the laundry basket, Freya asking politely to open a present and Harley kindly saying yes. Even though he missed them like crazy, he had to admit that Lydia was doing a great job with them.

As the steam from the hot water engulfed him, he cast his mind back to the last time he’d seen them in the flesh, the day they’d left the country. Lydia had said they could get a taxi to Manchester Airport for their Vancouver flight, but Cole had wanted to eke out every last second with them, soaking them up, storing up their quirks and habits and mannerisms to tide him over until he saw them again. So he’d driven them there and helped Lydia check in their vast pile of luggage. As they’d made their way across the concourse towards the departures lounge, he and Lydia following closely behind the kids, he’d looked at the airline tags fastened to his children’s backpacks and had felt the knot of dread in his stomach grow bigger and bigger. He’d known for weeks that his kids would be leaving him that day, but part of him had been in denial. There was no getting away from it now though.

He’d willed himself to keep it together as he said goodbye to them. Freya had had to be peeled off him and even Harley had let his guard down for a moment and permitted his dad to kiss him. And then it was Lydia’s turn.

‘Thanks,’ Lydia had said, kissing his cheek lightly.