Free Last Christmas by Lily Greene Page B

try to focus on my memories of my mother and father and not of the pain of the past five years. I talk about them but I don’t really talk about it to anyone, anymore.”
    Fergus understood that it must be a reference to the car crash and could see that Ella did not want to divulge any more on the matter. She looked fidgety, moving around restlessly in her chair. He squeezed her hand and tried to change the subject for her sake.
    “So where is your brother for business then? What does he do?”
    “He is a doctor and he has a medical convention in Prague,” she said, visibly relaxing. “He sent me some photos the other day. It looks so beautiful at this time of year.”
    “Oh, I bet it must be with all the Christmas markets and the striking buildings topped with snow dusted spirals,” he replied.
    “Mmm,” she nodded while taking a sip of her wine. “I’m so jealous they’ll have snow.”
    “Me too. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the snow falling now settled and we had a White Christmas?”
    “Oh I would adore it, just so long as it wasn’t so thick I couldn’t drive out to the Crosley’s in Kent.”
    Luigi interrupted them with the arresting smell of bubbling tomato, crisped chicken and freshly chopped parsley.
    “‘Ere you go. Youra last dish!” He placed the plate in the middle of the table, between the silvery candles that were burning brightly.
    “Oh thank you so much!” Ella cried in excitement.
    “My pleasure! Now I musta leave you to enjoy all ayour harda worka!”
    Fergus and Ella got up to thank Luigi for such a pleasant evening and Fergus showed him to the door. When he came back to the table, Ella had poured them some more wine and raised her glass for a toast.
    “Here’s to a magical week!”
    “And, to a White Christmas!” he replied hopefully as they chinked glasses.
    After they recovered from their feast, they set to work on the mulled wine. Fergus put on some music while Ella stirred the pot of stewing spices. They were a little tipsy as they maneuvered around the kitchen clearing up the mess they had created. They hummed along and moved lightly to the sweet sounds of Nat King Cole’s voice as he smoothly sung ‘The First Noël’. Ella tasted the mulled wine and deemed it ready. It was scrumptious, with the perfect balance of orange, cinnamon and cloves. She offered a spoonful to Fergus to try over the cooker. He took a sip and beamed.
    “It’s divine,” he whispered as he stared into her eyes.
    He turned off the hob, put his arms around Ella’s tiny waist and kissed her passionately as the King sang something about snow and mistletoe.
    His hands moved over her hips, tickling her slightly through the silk material of her dress that clung to her skin. She ran her hands through his hair and they started walking backwards away from the cooker. They bumped into the island as they kissed with their eyes closed and stumbled through to the living room. Fergus took Ella’s hand and led her to bedroom.

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    Ella woke up with Fergus’ muscular arms wrapped around her body. She opened her eyes and saw his sleepy face staring back at her. The dark and cozy room smelt of pine and the fading scent of Fergus’ musty cologne.
    “Good morning you,” he whispered.
    “Morning,” she croaked, her throat dry from last night’s wine.
    “It’s your big day today,” he said, brushing a strand of her hair from off her face. “I’m excited to finally see some of your paintings.”
    “Oh yes. I’m a little bit nervous,” she admitted. “I hope enough people come.” Ella yawned and stretched across the bed.
    “Hey, where are you going?” he said, playfully pulling her back towards him. “It’s going to be a huge success. Now, would you like some breakfast?”
    “I’d love some coffee please.” They kissed lightly on the lips and Fergus moved to open the curtains while Ella straightened out the duvet on her side of the bed.
    Light flooded the room and they were