Page 35 of A Merry Little Christmas

‘Surely, Dr Bajek has some advice for next steps?’ he pressed her.

‘Maybe,’ she said, swallowing.

‘Then we will explore every avenue,’ he promised solemnly. ‘Shall I call the clinic?’

Her heart twisted; it really did sound like he was as keen on having a baby as she was, which made it even worse that he was the one who couldn’t. ‘Can we leave it just now? Get Christmas out of the way and talk about it in the new year. I don’t want to be thinking about not being pregnant when it’s all Merry can talk about. It’s not her fault, but fate can be cruel sometimes.’

‘It can,’ he murmured, ‘I’m sorry. And yes, let’s wait a while. Just say the word, I’ll be guided by you.’

‘Thank you.’ She nodded her agreement, wondering how long she’d be able to string this out before he brought up the subject again.

‘And talking of time,’ Olek winced. ‘I’d better get going. It’s Max’s first game with Derby and I don’t know who’s more nervous, him or me.’

Nell took in his piercing blue eyes glinting with excitement in the light of the street lamp. The same sparkle which had drawn her to him all those years ago when they’d first met. She kissed him again, this time wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in close.

‘You’re a wonderful father, Olek. Never forget that.’

‘Thank you, I do my best,’ he replied.

There was a thump on the glass of Olek’s window and both of them flinched. His mum, Irena, beamed at them and gestured for them to get out of the car.

‘Kissing outside my house like two kids!’ she cried, once Nell had got out.

Olek wound down his window. ‘I can’t stop, Mama, I’m on my way to see Max.’

‘What sort of son doesn’t have time for his mother,’ she chided, reaching into the van and kissing both of his cheeks. ‘One minute, that’s all it will take. Your dad has messed up the TV and can’t get his programme.’

‘Again?’ Olek grumbled but nevertheless did as he was told.

‘Nell!’ Irena Dowmunt grabbed hold of her face and squashed it to her own as soon as they were both inside the hall. ‘My kochanie. Gienek? Nell and Olek are here.’

‘Hello, Mama,’ Nell replied, submitting to Irena’s exuberant greeting.

She was used to it now, but in the early days of dating Olek, this show of affection had come as a massive shock to Nell. Her own mother had air kissing down to a fine art, making an extravagant ‘MWAH’ sound whilst gingerly holding onto Nell’s shoulders with her fingertips. In other words, all show and very little warmth. Being welcomed into the bosom, quite literally, of Olek’s family had been a revelation. As soon as Olek had proposed to her, Irena had insisted she be known as Mama. By contrast, Nell’s parents had made it clear that Olek should address them as Mr and Mrs Thornberry until Nell finally put her foot down at her and Olek’s fifth wedding anniversary party.

Her father-in-law, Gienek, popped his head out from the kitchen with a mug in his hand. ‘Just in time, I’ve made tea. Anyone want one? Olek, look at the TV for me, son, I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but I haven’t touched it.’

‘It’s a mystery, Tata,’ Olek said, hugging his old man gently to avoid spilling the tea. ‘I can’t stop long enough for a drink, I’m afraid.’

He disappeared into the living room to sort out the TV, while Irena held her hands out to take Nell’s coat. ‘Or we can open the Christmas sherry? Unless you’re not drinking at the moment?’

Her in-laws looked at her: Gienek with nothing but polite interest, Irena with a keen eye. Women missed nothing, thought Nell, and they knew the signs. The last couple of times she and Olek had been to visit for Sunday lunch, she had been the designated driver to hide her real reason for not drinking. Tonight, Irena would see Olek drive off from her front-room window. If Nell refused a sherry this evening, it would be ringing all sorts of hopeful alarm bells. She wondered if Olek was listening.

‘Sherry please, as we’re wrapping presents,’ she replied lightly. ‘Let’s get into the Christmas spirit.’

Irena’s hesitation was so brief it was almost imperceptible. ‘Sherry it is! Come on through to my Christmas room and we can start.’

‘Christmas room?’ Nell said bemused, as Irena opened the door off the hallway into what used to be Gienek’s study.

‘Holy moly!’ Nell laughed. ‘I thought I was organised by having one shelf in a cupboard reserved for birthday and Christmas.’

‘Where Christmas is concerned,’ said Irena, ‘less is less and more is more. It’s the only time I can spoil my family without getting told off.’

Her husband’s old desk was strewn with wrapping paper, ribbons, sticky tape and several pairs of scissors; the carpet was virtually invisible due to all the carrier bags and cardboard boxes.

‘Max only wants money,’ Nell said, eyeing up the stack of bags. ‘Shame really, I used to love buying him toys.’

‘Money.’ Irena shook her head, dismayed. ‘How can you get excited opening money at Christmas?’