Barbara Hannay - Christmas Gift - A Family

She managed to convince her brother Bill that he was needed and then she almost ran back through the house. She was a touch breathless as she re-entered the shop.

The Englishman was still there, looking strangely out of place beside a mountain of dried dog food. He seemed to be making polite conversation with old Hilda Bligh, the town gossip.

‘There you are, Jo,’ said Hilda. ‘I was just telling Mr Strickland that if the shop’s empty we usually holler until someone comes.’

Goodness, Hilda already knew the man’s name. No doubt the old girl had been treated to one of his dangerously attractive smiles.

‘Sorry, Mrs Bligh, you know what Christmas Eve can be like. Here’s Bill. He’ll look after you.’

Jo glanced towards the Englishman, feeling rather foolish because she was about to invite him into her home and she didn’t know the first thing about him. ‘Can you come this way?’ she asked him.

‘It was very nice to meet you, Mr Strickland,’ called Hilda Bligh, smiling after him coyly.

Jo led the man through the doorway and into the shabby central passage that ran the full length of their house.

‘So you’re Mr Strickland?’ she said once they were clear of the shop.

‘Yes, my name’s Hugh—Hugh Strickland. And I believe you’re Jo.’

Jo nodded.

‘Short for Josephine?’

‘Joanna.’ She held out her hand. ‘Joanna Berry.’ Somehow it seemed important to shake hands—to make this exchange businesslike. But it wasn’t exactly businesslike to have her hand clasped warmly by Hugh Strickland.

‘I take it Hilda Bligh filled you in?’ she asked.

‘Indeed and with astonishing attention to detail.’

She groaned. ‘I hate to think what she’s told you.’

Hugh smiled. ‘I don’t think she told me what you scored on your spelling test in the second grade, but I believe I know just about everything else.’

‘I’m sorry. Outback towns are so—’

‘Exposing?’

Jo nodded her head and sighed. This really was the weirdest situation.

‘Yes, well…’ She took a deep breath. ‘We’d better take a look at these toys. I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you into my bedroom.’

‘Really?’

He didn’t look shocked—he was too smooth for that—but Jo knew he was surprised. She made a joke of it. ‘Of course I don’t usually invite strange men into my room within minutes of meeting them.’

Amusement sparkled in his eyes. ‘Mrs Bligh didn’t mention it.’

Thank heavens he had a sense of humour.

‘I’ve hidden the presents in there, you see, and I can’t bring them out or one of the children might find them.’ She turned and led him down the passage.

But, despite her matter-of-fact air, she was suddenly nervous. It didn’t seem possible that she was actually doing this. She, ordinary, average Jo Berry, was taking a man who was a mixture of every gorgeous British actor she’d ever swooned over into her dreadful bedroom.

It was more than dreadful. She’d taken all her favourite bits and pieces to decorate her flat in Brisbane, so her room was as bare and as ugly as a prison cell.

It held nothing more than a simple iron bed with a worn and faded cover, bare timber floorboards, a scratched, unvarnished nightstand and an ancient wardrobe, once polished silky oak, but painted creamy-orange by her father during one of Mum’s decorating drives. The old Holland blind that covered her window was faded with age and had a watermark stain where rain had got in during a storm several summers ago.

‘Perhaps this isn’t a good idea,’ Hugh said. ‘I can’t take gifts from your family.’

‘But isn’t it vitally important to have a present for little Ivy?’

‘Well…’

Without further hesitation, Jo dragged her suitcase out from under the bed. ‘Luckily I haven’t wrapped these yet,’ she said, looking up at him over her shoulder.

And he was smiling again—that dangerous smile—with his eyes fixed directly on the expanding gap between her T-shirt and her jeans.

Heaving the suitcase on to her bed, she began hauling gifts out to pile on her bedspread.

What she was looking for were the stocking fillers she’d bought to help her mother out—small fluffy toys, plastic spiders, dress-up jewellery, fishing lures, puzzles…

But she more or less had to get everything out because these things were mixed in with the main presents—the action figures and video games for Bill and Eric; the books and CDs for the older boys; the ‘magic’ magnetic drawing board and hair accessories for Grace and the baby doll for Tilly.

She glanced up at Hugh and felt a pang of dismay when she saw the look in his eyes as he stared at the doll.

As baby dolls went, it was perfect. She’d been thrilled when she’d found it. It came in a little cane carry basket with a pink quilted lining and there was also a feeding bottle and a change of clothes.

‘You have quite a treasure trove here,’ he said.

‘I need to negotiate a bank loan every year just to cope with Christmas,’ she joked.

‘Six brothers and sisters…’

‘Mrs Bligh told you that too?’

He nodded and smiled, then looked back at the bed. ‘I’d pay you anything for that doll.’

Jo thought of Ivy. She was such a sweet little thing and for a fleeting moment she almost weakened. But then she came to her senses. ‘Sorry. Not possible. That’s earmarked for Tilly.’ She reached for a fluffy lavender-hued unicorn. ‘What about this? Unicorns are all the rage with the pre-school set.’

One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘I would never have guessed. I’m completely out of my depth when it comes to little girls.’

‘Or there’s this—’ She reached for some multicoloured plastic bangles, but stopped when she heard the sound of giggling on the other side of the door. Her stomach plunged.

Tiptoeing to the door, she listened. Yes, there was another burst of giggles.

Carefully, she opened the door a crack and found Tilly and Eric crouching there, their eyes dancing with merriment. ‘Get lost, you two.’

‘Bill says you’ve got a man in there,’ said Tilly.

‘That’s none of your business. Now run away.’

Eric bumped against the door as if he wanted to push it open, but Jo blocked it with her hip.

‘Is he your boyfriend?’ asked Tilly.

‘No, of course not. Now scram, both of you!’

Face aflame, Jo slipped back through the narrow opening, slammed the door shut and locked it again. Embarrassed, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, hardly daring to look at Hugh, but when she did she saw that he was standing in the middle of the room with his hands thrust in his trouser pockets, wearing an expression that was a complicated mixture of amusement and impatience.

‘I do appreciate your efforts.’ He gallantly remained silent about the antics of her siblings. ‘But I think I’d better be off.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Will you take the unicorn?’

‘Are you sure you can spare it?’

‘Absolutely. Right now, I’d be happy if you took all the presents. I might yet disown my entire family.’

He flashed her a smile. ‘Just the unicorn would be terrific, thank you.’

Jo thrust the fluffy toy into a non-see-through pink plastic bag and handed it to him. ‘Done.’

As she hastily transferred everything back into the suitcase and dropped the lid, Hugh reached for his wallet again.

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No money. It’s for Ivy.’ Quickly she opened the door.

‘I must say I’m terribly grateful to you,’ Hugh said. ‘I would have hated to turn up at Agate Downs on Christmas Eve without the right gift.’

His smile and his confession, delivered in his beautifully modulated, polite English voice, had the strangest effect on Jo. She had to fight off a weird impulse to bar the door so he couldn’t leave.