On the morning of Christmas Eve, I wake up in Danny’s bed, cradling him.
This is such a different scenario compared to last night’s. Mitchell and I made love, and I’m blown away by it. I never thought that I would actually ever have sex again with anyone, let alone with someone so… generous. It was all about me, whereas, when I was with Mark, it was never about me at all.
But Mitchell is tender, passionate and he even managed to make me laugh when instead I thought I’d be an absolute disaster. What a great night. I had no idea that pulling an all-nighter of sex could get me so galvanised and full of energy. I should be completely wiped out, but I’m not. I’m more energetic, and happier, than I have been in a long, long time.
Flashes of the previous night come back to me, and I find myself blushing and smiling at the same time. I remember everything very vividly; Mitchell’s hot mouth searching mine, the warmth of his body as he held me, the raining of his kisses along my jawline… and so much more delicious stuff. I hug myself with a new-found glee, feeling like a teenager.
Mitchell. He is wonderful. Amazing. And, I’m scared to even think it, but I’ve never, in eight years, felt like this about anyone. Scratch that. Not even Mark made me feel this way, and I was pretty in love with him.
I still can’t believe Mitchell and I have slept together, and that we are actually an item. After all, we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks. But they have been very intense weeks of constantly being stuck to each other’s side for hours on end. And even when not on duty, Mitchell would always come looking for me and find an excuse to just chat. Of course, I’m going to take it slow, and not throw myself into it. But something deep inside tells me he’s The One.
I realise, in retrospect, how obvious it must have been to everyone else that we were developing feelings for each other. How could anyone, in fact, have missed my blushing and gushing? Or the way Mitchell leans in, an ear-to-ear grin on his face as he whispers all sorts of nonsense in my ears that has me in a fit of giggles more often than not? It’s the silliest I’ve ever been in my life… and the most fun I’ve ever had with a bloke.
In half an hour I’ll see him again. His eyes will reflect our lovely secret. And maybe we can steal a kiss before anyone else surfaces.
As I dry my hair, I imagine happy moments with him, most of them taking place between the beach and a house we share, strewn with his artwork, my pottery, and Danny’s and his daughter’s toys.
Mitchell must have carried me back from the sofa in his office to my room as I was wiped out, so I’m grateful of his discretion. And the fact that he remembers Danny’s birthday. There’s a present on Danny’s side of the bed, with a card. The envelope simply reads: Happy Birthday to the best mate ever. Love, Mitchell.
I stretch, a huge smile on my face. Today my little boy is eight years old. I’ve asked Maggie, Alex’s mum from the local bakery, to bake him a huge, horse-shaped cake, and I got him loads of presents from various shops in town – mostly from Bigsby’s Toy Shop. He will be over the moon.
In his little bed, Danny stirs, yawns and sits up, eyes already wide, my little angel. ‘Good morning, darling! Happy birthday!’ I chime, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. How many times will I ever be able to say that again? Every moment seems to flee and never return, so I cherish every single second with him.
He wraps his own little arms around me and kisses my cheek. ‘Thanks, Mum!’
And then he notices Mitchell’s presents. He reads the writing on the bag and grins. ‘Can I open them in front of him, Mum?’
‘Of course, love! We’ll just call him to see if he’s available.’ I dial his number, feeling a rush of happiness. This day has started off in the best of ways.
‘Good morning, Rosie,’ Mitchell answers with a voice I’ve never heard. ‘How are you, and how is Danny doing?’
I grin, feeling the heat as I blush. ‘He wants to thank you for the presents, and open them when you’re available.’
‘I’m available now. See you in your room in a minute?’
Now that is a scenario I have imagined a thousand times. ‘Sure.’ I hang up. ‘Get dressed, darling. Mitchell will be here in a minute.’
Danny nods, his own cheeks flushed with excitement. It’s funny, the effect this man has on both of us. ‘And can we have breakfast together?’ he asks. ‘With Mitchell?’
‘Well, let’s ask, shall we?’ I answer as I get up to put the kettle on and heat a skillet for the bacon, and start beating some eggs for good measure. I pop in some toast as well and start setting the breakfast bar. It feels funny, setting the table for three. I have never done that before, and find myself reaching for the nicest mugs and plates. I could actually do this forever.
A knock on the door makes me jump, and Danny dashes to open it. ‘Mitchell!’ he cries and they high-five each other.
‘Happy birthday, mate!’ Mitchell exclaims, ruffling his hair. And to me, he simply smiles his special smile, just for me. It carries the solemnity of what is happening between us, but at the same time, the light-heartedness of the way we feel.
‘Hi,’ I say sheepishly. ‘I’m making breakfast. Interested?’
‘Hmm, thanks. I am rather peckish.’ He takes the plates from me and continues to set the table while I turn down the heat.
‘Scrambled okay?’ I ask as he is smiling at Danny.
‘Great, thanks.’
I put the bacon on the skillet, pour the eggs into a separate pan and start to stir as the toast pops up.
I turn to fish in the fridge for something – anything that will keep my face away from their eyes for the time that it takes me to stop bawling and surreptitiously wipe my eyes. They can’t see me like this, a blubbering mess of happiness.
‘Coffee or tea, Rosie?’
I start, and then clear my throat. ‘Tea, please. But you don’t have to do that.’
He drops a tea bag into the prettiest mug and waits, squeezing it out and putting it on a small dish, all the while studying my face. I can only hope my eyes aren’t still moist.
‘Catching a cold, Rosie?’ he asks with an endearing twinkle in his eye. ‘Your nose is red.’
‘Oh, uhm, yes,’ I say, grateful for the chance to sniffle without worrying anyone.
‘This looks good, Rosie, thank you. Next time I’ll cook breakfast for you two,’ he says, eyeing Danny to see his reaction. Mitchell is so considerate of my son.
We all dig in, Danny munching happily on his toast, and Mitchell, who has the appetite of a horse, eats every single thing on his plate. I push my food around, trying to justify my right to happiness with the fact that I was here to spy on him, all the while losing my own argument.
‘Not hungry?’ he asks me.
‘Uhm, not really, no.’
Mitchell finishes his coffee and I can’t help but notice the strong hands cradling his mug.
‘Danny, do you want to open your present now?’
‘Can I?’ he asks.
‘Of course,’ Mitchell and I answer in unison.
‘It’s a riding helmet! Mitchell, thank you!’ he cries and throws himself at him. Mitchell grins and returns his hug.
‘That’s too much, Mitchell, thank you,’ I whisper, and he grins and me and winks.
‘Awh, mate, it’s my pleasure. Did you look inside the helmet?’ he asks.
Danny also looks at him and peers into the helmet. ‘Search far and wide, but your next gift is near the hide. Oh, wow, a treasure hunt?’ Danny cries, positively bursting with happiness.
‘Is that okay, Rosie? I never got a chance to ask you, what with all that happened last night,’ he whispers and I splutter out my tea, barely missing my green jumper.
‘Oh, uhm, of course. Thank you, Mitchell. It’s a fantastic idea.’
‘Can we go, Mum?’ he asks.
I wipe my mouth and clear the table while Mitchell fills the sink with hot, soapy water. ‘Let’s leave these in to soak. We have more important things to do,’ he says with a grin.
‘Where are we going, Danny?’ I ask him.
‘Follow me!’ he cries, reaching for his coat.
I wrap my jacket around my shoulders and we follow him downstairs and across the courtyard and down the lane to the stables.
Jeremy isn’t there yet, or seems to have popped out, because except for the horses, the barn is empty. Danny walks around the tack room, tapping his chin in concentration, then turns to the saddles on the wall, lifting each one.
I eye Mitchell who purses his lips in an effort not to give himself away, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that Danny’s very near. In fact, under the last saddle, there is a label that says ‘This is the Property of Danny Anderson’.
My hand shoots to my mouth as I shake my head at Mitchell in disbelief, but he takes my hand.
‘My very own saddle?’ Danny croaks.
‘You can’t ride without a saddle, can you, Danny? Now look underneath it,’ Mitchell says.
Danny obeys, finding a medium-sized package, which he tears open as if his life depended on it.
‘Oh, wowee! Mum, look, it’s a riding habit! Thanks, Mitchell!’
I start, my eyes swinging to Mitchell. It’s too much. Those things are immensely expensive. I open my mouth to protest but he puts his hand on my shoulder.
‘What does the label say?’ Mitchell asks.
Danny peers inside and reads. ‘Twirl, twirl, it’s pinned on our second-favourite girl.’
Their second-favourite girl? I wonder, but Danny marches straight to Mabel’s stall and we follow him just in time to see him kiss her nose. ‘Hello, lovely. Have you got something for me today?’
Mabel dips her old head, watching him with love-filled eyes as Danny reaches over her side where a bag is hanging. I eye Mitchell who is even more excited than my son. How can I accept all this on Danny’s behalf? It is truly too generous. Mark has never given Danny anything, least of all his own time and affection.
Danny opens the bag containing a box, which he places on the nearby trestle table and we both gasp at the same time. ‘Riding boots!’ he cries, beside himself with joy, which makes two of us. Mitchell knows what Danny wants, and doesn’t hesitate to give it him. But I am still incredibly overwhelmed by his generosity. I’m just not used to such gestures from anyone outside my family and Liz, whose gifts I still have hidden in my car.
‘Mum, look!’ he exclaims, pulling them out of the box. ‘Thanks, Mitchell!’
‘They should be your size, but we can change them if not,’ Mitchell informs me, then stops. ‘Are you okay, Rosie? Did I overdo it?’
I look at Danny who is toeing off his sneakers to try the boots on. ‘I just… we’re not used to all this…’
Mitchell takes my hand and squeezes it gently in both of his. ‘We need to have that conversation later, Rosie,’ he whispers.
I look at him and his beautiful, kind face, and nod. Later. Now is not the time.
‘Did you look under the boots?’ Mitchell asks and I gasp. Surely not more?
Danny inspects his soles, where he finds a small note, and then looks at Mitchell. ‘More?’
Mitchell grins and nods as Danny reads the note. ‘Your final gift is attached to our number-one favourite girl. Our favourite girl – that has to be Mum!’
‘Me?’ I blurt out, taken by surprise as Mitchell and Danny turn to me. ‘But I-I haven’t got anything stuck to me, have I?’
But Danny is already searching my jacket pockets, patting me down, until he gets to my inside pocket where there is an envelope.
‘When did you slip that in?’ I whisper as Danny tears it open.
Mitchell chuckles and whispers back, ‘While you had your head stuck in the fridge, pretending not to cry.’
I stare at him and then tap his forearm. ‘You schemer.’
‘Never,’ he says simply. ‘I’ve no secrets. What you see is what you get.’
‘Oh, wow!’ Danny cries for the umpteenth time. ‘Mum, he’s given me Mabel!’
‘Mitchell, thank you for everything, but a horse?’ I say once we have saddled her and Jeremy has arrived to lead Danny out of the stall on Mabel’s back and into the paddock.
‘He and Mabel love each other,’ he assures me. ‘And I want him to enjoy her as long as she lives. And then, when she leaves us, to soften the blow, we’ll get him a new pony.’
‘But it’s just too much!’
Mitchell leans on the fence, squinting up at the unusually warm December sun, then turns to look into my eyes. ‘Okay. It’s time for that conversation now, Rosie.’
I steal him a glance, not sure what to say, and he nods, taking my hand again.
‘Danny deserves everything I can give him,’ he whispers, his words only for me. ‘And so do you.’
This is crazy. Unheard of. Is it supposed to be like that, the bloke an absolute sweetheart? I am so not used to his. My brain can’t even conjure up the scenario. ‘Mitchell, I—’
‘I don’t want to push anything on you, Rosie, but I have to be honest about how I feel about you. Both of you. Apart from Lola, you two are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want to take care of you. If you’ll let me.’
I look up into his face, overwhelmed, as he frames my cheeks with his gentle fingers, and bends down to kiss me on the lips. His kiss is gentle, respectful, but at the same time demanding, his fingers now in my hair, his thumb on my chin, lifting my face.
‘God, Rosie, I want you again, now, right on this fence,’ he whispers, squeezing my hips.
I laugh, trying to compose myself. We are in public, after all, and my son is barely thirty feet away.
‘Me, too, Mitchell,’ I whisper back, a huge smile bending my face out of shape. ‘But we’re going to have to take it slow. I’m a little out of practice.’
Because I can’t remember the last time my heart beat so loudly, out of control. Who knew we’d end up like this, snogging like there’s no tomorrow?
‘You and me both,’ he chuckles, nuzzling my face, his arms around my hips. And then he pulls back to look into my face.
‘You really are luminous, Rosie. You are so sweet and beautiful.’
‘I am not,’ I protest, then grin. ‘Keep going anyway.’
He laughs. ‘There’s plenty where that came from. Don’t forget, we Irish are poets. And lovers.’
I wrap my arms around his neck, getting more confident by the second on the strength of our night together. ‘Is that so?’
His smile disappears. ‘Jesus, Rosie, don’t look at me like that. I’m barely hanging on as it is here.’
Wow. I have that effect on him. On what planet can things like this happen to me, Rosie Miss Nobody? But if this is what a real, kind relationship looks like, and if I can give my heart completely without fear of being hurt, then I’m in. All the way. For as long as it lasts.
When Danny is done with his lesson and brushing Mabel down, he saunters happily into the dining room where I have set a table with blue balloons tied to his chair. On the table nearby lay mine and Liz’s gifts.
‘Hold it there, missy, you forgot these!’ comes a familiar voice at my back.
I turn to see Laura, Alex and Sally, along with Russell and Annie and all the others, looking for all the world like the Holy Magi with their pile of colourful boxes. Danny slaps his cheeks in astonishment, his blue eyes shining with joy. He’s never, not even back at my parents’ home, seen all these friends, gifts and boisterousness around him, but he’s in his element. Danny has no cousins as I’m an only child, but to look at him now, he is happy just as he is, surrounded by our new, wonderful friends who have taken us under their wing. It is so kind of them.
‘That cold of yours getting worse, is it?’ Mitchell chuckles into my ear, wrapping his arm around my shoulder in a gesture that doesn’t escape Sally who nudges Laura who in turn grins.
I sniff and wipe my eyes again, laughing at my own ridiculousness.
Everyone gathers around my little boy to watch as he opens his gifts, each having so many nice things to say to him. He is definitely coming out of his London shell, my baby, and shows a confidence that not even he knew he had. We had to come to Cornwall to find ourselves… and everything else.
We all sit down to a mega lunch of all his favourite foods, which Russell has prepared. ‘I’m only doing this for your kid,’ he says as he brings in a huge tray of fried chicken and potato salad, Danny’s favourites. ‘And because the boss said so.’
Mitchell and Russell exchange glances and grin. It’s a good day. The best we’ve ever had since Danny was born, actually.
After lunch, Annie wheels out the cake – a huge horse-shaped dream of chocolate and vanilla fudge cream, made by Maggie, Alex’s mother.
And that’s when Danny leans over to me, arms outstretched, and kisses my cheek in front of absolutely everyone. Two weeks ago he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see me holding his hand to cross the street. ‘Thank you, Mum, for all this, and for bringing me here.’
‘Oh, my darling, you’re very welcome,’ is all I can say through my tight throat before he digs into his cake without a care in the world.
‘I’m not surprised he said that, Rosie. He loves it here,’ Mitchell says as we sit back and watch as Danny, Alex, Russell and, much to my surprise, even Jeremy all try to beat each other at the videogame Russell has bought Danny.
The girls are busy clearing the table from the food and rainbow of wrapping paper scattered around us. They have excluded me from the operations. ‘You’ve done enough,’ Sally says with a warning glance Mitchell’s way. ‘Now just sit down and… enjoy.’
‘He is happy,’ I sigh, as content as I can ever be.
‘And it’s all because of you,’ he says.
‘Me? You guys provided all the entertainment. I did nothing a mother wouldn’t do.’
‘No, Rosie. Not every mother would.’
I can’t tell if he means Diane, or even his own biological mother who had died. But today is such a special day that I don’t want to dampen anyone’s spirits. Besides, what good is it to only think unhappy thoughts, when around you there is so much love and laughter? I, too, am happy here, and wonder what the future holds.