Sarah Morgan - Once Upon A Christmas

‘No problem,’ Sean said easily, ‘and I’m sure we won’t need you here so just go and have a good time.’

‘Great. That’s what we’ll do, then.’

Jack ran through the rest of the rota and Sean left the room.

Bryony looked at him. ‘So what are you planning to do? Bring the fire brigade?’

‘When you’ve spent as long working in A and E as I have, you won’t let your daughter go to domestic firework parties,’ he said tightly. ‘It’s fine. I’ll come, too. And you can tell Lizzie’s friend’s mother that I want a bucket of sand and another bucket of water handy.’

‘Why don’t we just have an ambulance on standby, just in case?’ Bryony suggested tartly. ‘Anne’s mother will think I’ve gone barmy.’

‘Better barmy than burned.’ Jack strode to the door. ‘What time does it start?’

‘We’re getting there at five-thirty for tea and then fireworks,’ Bryony said wearily, and Jack nodded.

‘Right. I’ll pick you both up at five-fifteen. And I want Lizzie in gloves. She’s not touching a sparkler with her bare hands.’

Bryony stood up and followed him out of the staffroom, wanting to argue but knowing that he was only being cautious.

He had dealt with a huge number of burns on Bonfire Night, all of which could have been avoided.

And he did adore Lizzie.

Deciding that she should be grateful that he was so protective of her daughter, she picked up a set of notes and called the next patient from the waiting room.

And secretly part of her was excited at spending an evening with Jack. Even if it was in the company of half a dozen parents and their offspring.

It would be lovely to have him there, even though nothing was going to happen.

Reminding herself that Jack was not the man she was dating, she sat down in her chair and waited for the patient to arrive.

THE NIGHT of the bonfire party was freezing cold and Bryony pulled on her jeans and thickest jumper and wore her long black coat.

Lizzie was wearing a bright pink hat, pink tights and a pink fleece, and Jack blinked when he arrived to pick them up.

‘How are my girls?’ He picked Lizzie up and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘You’re looking very pink, angel.’ He spoke in that lazy drawl that sent butterflies flitting through Bryony’s stomach. ‘Do you have any pink gloves to go with that outfit, sweetheart?’

‘Somewhere.’

Jack smiled and put her back down. ‘Find them for me, there’s a good girl.’ He looked at Bryony and she smiled, determined to have a nice evening.

‘Is my dress decent enough for you, Jack?’

For a moment he didn’t react and then he laughed. ‘Exactly the way I like it. None of you showing.’

Bryony rolled her eyes and tried not to be offended that he didn’t actually want to see any of her body. Obviously she was lacking in something, or he would have pounced on her long ago.

Lizzie came back into the hall, holding her gloves, and Jack nodded.

‘Good girl.’ He opened the front door and led them towards his car. ‘Now, Lizzie, tonight when the fireworks start, I want you to stay by me. The whole time. OK?’

‘But what if I want to play with my friends?’

‘You can play with them before and after,’ he said firmly, strapping her into her seat. ‘But during the fireworks, you stay with me.’

Lizzie’s eyes were huge and solemn. ‘Are you very afraid of them, Jack? Will I need to hold your hand?’

Bryony smothered a giggle but Jack’s expression didn’t flicker. ‘I’m terrified of them, angel. And I’m relying on you to be beside me.’

‘I’ll be there the whole time,’ Lizzie assured him, and Bryony rolled her eyes as she slid into the passenger seat, knowing that Jack had got his own way.

Lizzie’s friend Anne lived in a house with a huge garden and they arrived to find that the trees had been decorated with fairy lights and everyone was gathered round, laughing and waiting for sausages to cook.

It felt wintry and cold, and delicious smells wafted through the freezing air.

‘Hello, Lizzie.’ Anne’s mother greeted them warmly and drew them into the garden, introducing them to people they didn’t know.

‘Where have you stored the fireworks?’ was Jack’s first question, and Bryony put a hand on his arm and smiled at Anne’s mother.

‘Jack is a consultant in A and E,’ she explained hastily, ‘and we doctors are always a bit nervous of fireworks. Take no notice.’

‘Anne’s father has it all under control,’ the woman assured them, waving a hand towards the bottom of the garden. ‘The children won’t be allowed near them. Apart from the sparklers, of course.’

Bryony saw Jack’s mouth open and quickly spoke before he did. ‘That’s great,’ she said cheerfully, her fingers biting into his arm like a vice. ‘Those sausages smell fantastic.’

‘Well, we’re just about ready to eat.’ Anne’s mother led them to a table loaded with food. ‘Grab yourself a roll and some ketchup and tuck in!’

She walked away and Jack scowled at Bryony. ‘You just made holes in my arm.’

‘I was trying to stop you embarrassing Lizzie,’ she hissed, smiling sweetly at one of the mothers who passed. ‘Now, eat something and relax. Try and remember that you only see the disasters in A and E. You don’t see the normal, happy bonfire parties that everyone enjoys.’

There was a long silence and then, to her surprise, Jack sucked in a breath and gave her a lopsided smile. ‘You’re right,’ he said dryly, running a hand through his cropped dark hair. ‘I’m being an idiot. It’s just that I love Lizzie so much.’

Bryony’s face softened. ‘I know you do.’ On impulse she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, feeling the roughness of stubble against her lips and smelling the sexy male smell that was Jack.

He looked startled. ‘What was that for?’

‘For being you.’ Deciding that, for a girl who was supposed to be forgetting about Jack, she wasn’t actually doing that well, Bryony left him by the bread rolls and went and found Lizzie.

‘You kissed Jack.’ Lizzie was looking at her curiously and Bryony felt herself blush.

‘Just on the cheek,’ she said hastily, and Lizzie tipped her head on one side.

‘Jack would make a cool dad.’

Pretending that she hadn’t heard that remark, Bryony turned to chat to one of the mothers that she knew vaguely, trying not to look at Jack who was now deep in conversation with one of the prettiest mothers in the school. He looked broad-shouldered and powerful with his back to her, and her stomach twisted as she saw the woman laughing up at him flirtatiously.

Reminding herself that she was supposed to be getting a life and forgetting about Jack, Bryony joined in with the others, handing food to the children, topping up drinks and wiping ketchup from faces.

Anne’s father lit the bonfire and the flames licked towards the dark sky, suddenly illuminating the massive garden.

‘You kids stay here,’ he ordered cheerfully. ‘I’m going to start the show.’

‘Mummy, can I have another drink?’ Lizzie tugged at her sleeve, her cheeks pink from the cold, and Bryony took her hand and led her over to the table.

‘What do you want?’ She picked up some empty cartons and then found a full one. ‘Apple juice OK?’

‘Great.’ Lizzie took the cup and looked around her happily. ‘Isn’t this great, Mummy? You, me and Jack together.’

Bryony swallowed. ‘Well, er, we’re not exactly …’ Then she smiled weakly. ‘Yes, sweetheart, it’s great.’