Free A Mommy for Christmas by Caroline Anderson Page B

is.’
    â€˜I will. Thanks.’
    She returned the phone carefully to its cradle, then stared at it for a moment before she realised she had a silly smile on her face.
    Stupid. And, anyway, it was nothing to smile about. He had two small children in a house without heating, the weather had taken a turn for the worse and the forecast was awful, and this close to Christmas she doubted he’d get anything done unless it was a very simple repair.
    Oh, well. He could always go and stay with his mother, she thought, and then remembered the trouble they were having over the business of Freya going to the childminder, and realised that that was unlikely to work.
    Not your worry, she reminded herself fiercely, and turned her attention back to the television.
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    â€˜Sorry, mate, it’s shot. You need a new boiler, and half of your radiators are on the point of giving up. You need a complete new system to bring it up to scratch, and there’s no way I can get to you now until after Christmas, and that means putting someone else off.’
    James stared at the plumber in disbelief, then stabbed his fingers through his hair and let out a huff of desperation. ‘Um—what about a temporary fix?’ he asked, clutching at straws, but Joe shook his head.
    â€˜Sorry. Can’t do it. The burner’s gone and it’s such an old boiler it’s a miracle it’s still going. I wouldn’t fix it even if I could. It’s a miracle it hasn’t blown up.’
    James felt sick. Sick with the thought of what could have happened, sick with the fact that yet again he was going to have to fall back on his mother’s rapidly diminishing goodwill—and even if they went to hers, it could only be for one night. There was no way they could stay there for weeks.
    â€˜Can I light the gas fire in the sitting room?’ he asked, clutching at straws. ‘Or use the cooker?’
    â€˜Yeah, sure. I’ll cap the supply to the boiler so you’ll still have gas, but what about hot water?’
    â€˜Um—there’s an immersion heater.’
    â€˜Is it working?’
    He shrugged. ‘Probably not, knowing my luck. I’ve never tried it.’
    The plumber smiled. ‘Let’s have a look.’
    He opened the door and pulled out a pile of towels and sheets, and Joe stuck his head in and turned on the switch. ‘Let’s have a cup of tea while that heats up and I cap the boiler, and then I can tell you if it’s OK,’ he said, so James obediently put the kettle on, watched him sort out the gas before they had a crisis. No sooner had he made the tea than Freya started to cry, and he went and lifted her out of her cot and brought her down to the kitchen to meet the plumber.
    â€˜This is Joe,’ he said, and Joe grinned at her.
    â€˜Hello, love. You look about the same age as my youngest. What’s your name?’
    â€˜F’eya,’ she said, and then suddenly became overwhelmed and burrowed into her father’s neck. He hugged her gently, then met the plumber’s eyes.
    â€˜Shall we find out the verdict on the immersion heater?’ he asked, and they trooped up to the landing and Joe reached his hand in and felt the top of the tank under the old jacket that barely covered it, and shook his head.
    â€˜Dead as a dodo. Sorry, James. You haven’t got any hot water.’
    â€˜Can you change it?’
    â€˜I don’t know. It’s been there so long it might be seized in. I’ll try for you, I’ve got a spare on the van. Give me a minute.’
    But it was hopeless. He couldn’t free it without risking twisting the fitting out of the thin copper wall of the cylinder, which meant no hot water.
    Joy. No heat, no water.
    And no home.
    He swallowed hard as he shut the door behind the plumber. He’d refused to charge him, which might have been something to do with Rory coming out of his bedroom and telling him he was cold and