Home For Christmas (11 page)

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Authors: Fiona Greene

BOOK: Home For Christmas
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I made my wreath this year

woven greenery from our garden with tiny pink rosebuds. A bit different to last year’s red poppies (Dad’s choice) but this year I wanted it to reflect Ben and what he meant to me. When we were kids we had this rambling pink rose bush next to the letterbox. The buds were pink, fading to white by the time the flowers opened. I couldn’t find the exact same one, but the buds were pretty close. Next year, if you tell me what your favourite flowers are (if you have a favourite), I’ll add some of those as well
.

I can’t believe how quickly the year’s going. I’ve put the gnomes aside and I’m working on the Mother’s Day garden ornaments

our deadline is May first, so I’ll have them available to sell. Busy times
.

I thought of you and your unit all day today. I’m always drained at the end of Anzac Day

for me it’s personal. You guys must be a thousand times worse

you’re living it. Anyway, hope you had the chance to remember and reflect. I think about you all the time and I’m really proud of your service. You guys rock
.

Stay safe
.

Layla
.

***

Tate stared at the inky sapphires laid out on the bench in front of him, pondering the mysterious ways nature found to display beauty. Some precious stones were transparent and sparkly, but these sapphires had real depth. Most of the time they were a deep navy ink, but sometimes a flash of green split the muddiness.

Every day he paddled away in muddy waters and it took real effort to stay afloat. Then an email from Layla would pop up and cut through the murk. Make him realise there was more to life than working in a base carved out of barren, frozen earth in a foreign land. He’d never really contemplated the future, there hadn’t been any point, but now he thought about it daily.

The newsletter from Lavarack was still sitting in his inbox, with its link to the information on leaving the army. Since the attack, he’d gone to delete that newsletter at least forty times, but he couldn’t. Should he stay in the army? And if he did, would he put his hand up for another overseas tour?

It was decision time but he wanted to sit on his imaginary fence a little while longer. Another few months on and he’d know if what he and Layla had was real.

Or if the attack has affected him.

P.T.S.D
.

Post traumatic stress disorder. They’d all heard of it, even been warned to watch out for it in their mates. But how did you know what was normal?

Who knew?

He shook his head. He put that thought aside and went back to the problem at hand. How he was going to prise Layla’s birthday out of her without making it obvious. The sapphires, intended for Valentine’s Day, had never been sent. He tucked them back into their pouch and pulled the keyboard towards him.

Hi Layla

We’re all a bit down today. We commemorated Anzac Day and had a special remembrance service for Kitch

lots of photos and things to remember the good times. Earlier in the month we all signed a card for his wife that the CO was sending on. Dinner tonight

they took all the Anzac letters from school kids across Australia and made a table mural out of them

they stuck them to the table in the mess and covered the whole lot with plastic. I sat near a letter from a kid called Ken who was practising with his toy gun so he could come and join the army when he was bigger. He even drew us a picture. Classic
.

I realised when I read your email, there’s so much I don’t know about you. And vice versa. Here goes

my life in a nutshell:

Siblings: None (I’ve never met my father either.)

Birthday: 2
nd
July

Star Sign: Cancer

not that I believe
.

Favourite Band: Too hard

Muse, Good Charlotte, AC/DC
.

Favourite Sport: Cricket, anything with wheels
.

Favourite Meal: A steak at the Breakky Creek Hotel in Brisbane. Or home caught and cooked crab
.

Least Favourite Meal: Army trifle. A mash-up of the previous seven days of desserts, smothered in custard made from some long-life powder. Technicolour nightmare. Yuk
.

Bucket List #1: Visit the Lost City of the Incas in South America
.

Ok, now it’s your turn. Can’t wait for your answers. You have to give me some more questions too
.

Tate

Hi Tate
,

Ken is the future of Australia! It’s great they do this sort of thing now. We never did stuff like that at school. Hope you are having a better day today

I can only imagine how much Anzac Day takes out of you, where the pain from Russell Kitchener’s loss would still be raw
.

All right, here’s some trivia about me, and some more questions for you
.

Siblings: Ben

deceased. Honorary sister

Carise
,
my cousin
.

Birthday: 4
th
June

Star Sign: Gemini. How can you not believe? According to Astrology websites we are going to have to learn to communicate as a key to our relationship

you are quiet and I’m quite the conversationalist and sometimes I need reigning in so you can talk (like now!)

Favourite Band: Rogue Traders. They broke up

Favourite Sport: To play

tennis. To watch

tennis. To listen to on radio

cricket
.

Favourite Meal: Mexican anything
.

Least Favourite Meal: Lamb’s fry and bacon. Anything offal. (Shudders)

Bucket List #1: A trip around the outback in a campervan. Dog included
.

Okay, your turn:

I can’t live without my …..? (like that old TV ad, do you remember?)

Exercise: Gym or outdoors? Favourite fitness activity?

Favourite Sunday morning bakery item?

Those two things go together for me

I go for a run most Sundays then I call in at the waterfront for a chicken pie. Damn, now I want to go down to the bakery. Some days I’ll be out in the workroom and that wickedly enticing pastry aroma wafts straight off the waterfront and up the hill and before I know it, my mouth is watering worse than Whisky with a rawhide
.

Looking forward to your answers. Stay safe
,

Layla
.

Tate read Layla’s latest email and air-punched. June 4
th
. He checked the calendar. There was plenty of time to pack the sapphires and send them. He wrote the date on the Bonsai Christmas business card, shut down the computer and with a spring in his step, headed over to the barracks.

Chapter Twelve

The wait for the big day was over. Tate inhaled the beef curry for dinner then marched over to the computer room, still forty minutes too early for his session. He paced from the noticeboard to the door as he waited for a machine to become free. Finally it was his turn. He opened his email, tapping his fingers on the desk as he waited for his inbox to load.

Dearest Tate
,

What gorgeous sapphires!!!

I waited till my birthday to open my present, like you asked, but I woke early and couldn’t wait any longer. The earrings are absolutely gorgeous. I love them! I’ve never seen sapphires this shade of blue before

they’ve got such depth. I love how they look different from every angle

wherever did you get them? Thank you so much for such a fabulous birthday present
.

Love always. Stay safe
,

Layla
.

PS: Day of pruning today. (In the coolest sapphire earrings in the whole world.)

He was congratulating himself on a job well done when he realised there was a second email, only minutes after the first. He clicked it open.

Tate

I’m an idiot. Here’s a photo of me wearing the coolest sapphires in the world. Sorry about the bed hair and PJs
.

Cold here this morning. Whisky and I had the heater going all night
.

Love

Layla

Bed hair
. Tate’s heart stopped.

Layla and bed in the same sentence diverted most of the blood in his body due south. Not good. He shifted in his seat and tried to concentrate on the other words in Layla’s email. There was a photo. He clicked.

He blinked as the remaining blood in his brain joined the exodus to the south. God, he’d love to be waking up next to this every morning. Her smile was dynamite, her eyes alive. She’d tucked her hair back and the earrings hung against the delicate curve of her neck. His eyes devoured the smooth bare skin that ended all too soon, in a pair of hot pink pyjamas, spangled with white stars. She was crouched down on her haunches next to a grey-faced cattle dog, whose half-lidded stare said quite clearly ‘too early’. Tate expanded the photo to full screen and stared his fill.

Her joy boded well for the matching sapphire and diamond cluster he’d asked his new friend Faraz, the Afghani jeweller, to work on. The design, together with all the paperwork, was tucked away in the box with his WSC cards and all of Layla’s letters and cards. It wouldn’t be ready for another two months but that was plenty of time.

Now to send Layla the rest of her birthday present. He opened a new email.

Gorgeous Layla
,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hope you have a fabulous day
.

You look sensational (as always). I’m so glad you like the earrings. They look lovely on you. Love the PJs
.

I’ve got some news
.

I’m deploying back to Australia mid-September. Arriving Townsville, date to be confirmed. I can’t wait to meet you for real. Calling in the raincheck for dinner at the RSL. I’ll be based in Brisbane from November (for three years minimum), and I know it’s a bit of a drive down to Gibbs Bay, but I’d love to spend time with you. You and I have a date for Christmas, don’t we?

Love always
,

Tate
.

Tate

Sensational news!

I’ve been watching the current affairs shows the last few weeks and they’re talking about our troops withdrawing from Afghanistan but it’s hard to know what’s politics and what’s real. I’m over the moon you’re coming home
.

Don’t stress the Brisbane posting. It’s closer than Townsville. Or Darwin, or any of the other bases you might have been transferred to. Luckily, I’m my own boss so I can make sure I’m available when you’ve got time off
.

Let me know the minute you’ve got times and dates. I want to be there, waiting for you when you get off the plane
.

Birthday dinner with family and friends tonight

we’re going to Tijuana Blues, a Mexican restaurant at the top of the bay. Can’t wait
.

Love

Layla

PS: This Christmas is yours!

***

Layla hadn’t been home from dinner long enough to get the kettle on when there was a knock on the door. Her heart sank when she saw who was waiting on the veranda.

Ian.

She had to open the door, so she did so. ‘Come in.’

He stepped forward and thrust a bouquet of Australian natives towards her. ‘Happy Birthday Layla.’

‘Ian. Thank you. You didn’t need to buy me flowers.’ She struggled to get the words out.

He smiled. ‘I wanted to give you something as beautiful as you are.’

The buzz of excitement still remaining from Tate’s parcel, and his subsequent email, fizzled and dropped stone dead into her boots. She took the flowers, not wanting to seem ungracious. ‘Thank you again. Not every boss gets such generous and thoughtful gifts from their employees.’

Ian’s face grew wary. Layla turned away, in search of a vase. Anything, so she didn’t have to watch this play out the same way, again. In the end, she ditched the flowers on the bench near the sink and stepped around the other side of the kitchen table, her fish tacos from dinner sitting heavy in her gut.

‘I’d like to think of us as more than that.’ Ian stepped closer. ‘You must know how I feel about you.’ The puppy dog eyes were back.

Layla wrenched the scarf from around her neck. ‘Ian, I know how you feel, and you know how I feel. You choose to ignore it. We’ve been through this before.’ She gripped the back of the chair and glared at him. ‘I like you as a friend, I like working with you, you do a great job, but I am not interested in a relationship with you. I am in a relationship. His name is Tate and he’s away on active service at the moment. I didn’t say anything because…’ She paused. Ian didn’t need to know. ‘I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I need to make sure we are on the same page. Co-workers, yes. Friends, yes. Relationship, no.’

Ian was white as he took a step back. ‘You’re seeing someone? Who’s on active service?’

‘Yes.’ She loosened her grip on the chair and rolled her shoulders.

‘Military service?’

‘Yes.’

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