A Kirribilli Christmas Page 4

  ‘Thank you, Santa,’ he murmured with a wiggle of his brows and she laughed out loud.

  He’d changed too, into off-white chinos with a loose green shirt, clothes he’d snagged from his bedroom before she went upstairs. She’d heard the downstairs shower going while she’d put on her makeup in the bathroom and tried not to think of hot, wet male. She’d seen enough of his body to know that he’d look sensational stripped.

  Ten minutes later there was a shouted greeting from the front of the house. Dan bent down and kissed her cheek. ‘Here goes.’

  Shelby followed him into the kitchen in time to see a slim woman with a white-blonde pixie haircut barrelling down the hall carrying a large tray. She staggered into the kitchen, took one look at Shelby, then her gaze shifted to Dan. ‘Got the crabs here.’

  Crabs? Was this a parallel universe? Christmas at Frangipani House had been dry turkey, baked vegetables, wilted beans, and a flaccid slice of ham on the side with pale gravy desperately contrived without the help of stock.

  ‘Outta the way, this is heavy.’ She sidled past, unceremoniously nudging Shelby aside, and deposited the tray on the table.

  ‘Deb?’ Shelby stared at the woman.

  ‘Yep, that’s what they call me.’ She studied Shelby for a moment, interested. ‘Hi, Shelby.’

  ‘Hi.’ In a grown-up world this was the moment they were supposed to move towards each other and embrace. Well, embrace was out, but what about an air kiss? But Deb had already opened the fridge, pushing items aside so she could fit the crabs.

  ‘Jeez, Kate’s fruit salad? What is this, back to the future?’ Deb wrinkled her nose as she closed the fridge. ‘I always hated that stuff. So, this is a surprise,’ she said dryly, turning to look at Shelby.

  ‘You’ve changed,’ Shelby blurted out. Deb had always been a large girl but now she had a rangy, muscled body clad in skinny black jeans with a loose sheer white shirt and masses of silver jewellery.

  ‘People do.’

  ‘Deb’s a chef now,’ Dan put in. ‘She has a place in Surry Hills that’s chock-a-block six days a week. I can’t get in, even with my connections.’ He dropped a kiss on Deb’s cheek. ‘Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Yes, Merry Christmas,’ Shelby echoed. ‘You have your own restaurant?’ She couldn’t stop the spike of disbelief that entered her voice. Deb had been so stolid, so uninspired, so . . .

  ‘Yeah, you always looked at me like I was a barge-arse loser. People can change, Shelby.’

  Another young woman came through the hallway carrying flowers and two bottles of wine, and Deb turned and motioned her forward. ‘This is Chloe, my gorgeous girlfriend. Chloe, this is Shelby.’

  The woman’s eyes widened before her gaze flew to Deb then back again. ‘Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  ‘None of it good, I imagine,’ Shelby replied and Deb laughed.

  ‘Okay, we’re done. I’ll make a sauce for the crabs but that’s it. Buggered if I’m going to cook for this lot on Christmas Day.’ She gave Shelby a wry smile. ‘C’mon, let’s have some bubbles.’

  They’d just poured four flutes when the loud roar of a V8 engine sounded. ‘Okay, Gary and Donna are here.’ Dan raised his brows. ‘Get ready for it.’

  Moments later, footsteps pounded down the hall and a little girl ran straight to Dan. He lifted her up, swinging her around while she shrieked with delight.

  ‘Bloody hell, you could’ve warned us.’

  Shelby turned. Gary stood in the doorway, a six pack of stubbies dangling from each hand as he shot a look at Dan. He’d filled out. A lot. But he had the same mat of sandy hair and ruddy cheeks under the scatter of freckles. Behind him a woman with a baby on one hip and a toddler by the hand smiled shyly.

  Gary gave Dan a meaningful look as he loaded the beer onto the bench. ‘Look after the beers, will you, girls?’

  He turned to Shelby. ‘Well, this is a surprise. Good to see you, Shelby,’ he said stiffly before turning back to Dan.

  ‘Come out and help me get Donna’s pavs out of the car, will you, bro?’

  When they were halfway down the front path, Gary stopped and turned so abruptly Dan almost ran into him.

  ‘What the hell is she doing here?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Mate, she didn’t want to know any of us years ago and now she’s at family Christmas?’ Gary shook his head, then his look sharpened. ‘You haven’t still got the hots for her, have you?’

  Dan screwed his face in mock consideration. ‘No,’ he lied, trying to infuse his response with a little conviction.

  Gary rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, no. Mate, you know she’ll just kick you in the nuts again if you so much as look at her with goo-goo eyes.’

  ‘I will not look at her with goo-goo eyes,’ Dan ground out, incredulous that this conversation was even taking place. Sometimes Gary just needed to mind his own business.

  ‘Don’t even think about it, right?’

  Dan gave him his best quelling look. ‘Why, fancy me yourself?’

  Gary punched him in the arm, hard. ‘So what’s the story?’

  ‘I don’t know. She just turned up here out of the blue yesterday.’ He didn’t add that he’d been struck by how forlorn she’d looked. The way she’d stood and gazed up at the house as though uncertain if she was doing the right thing.

  They’d reached the car and Gary lifted a cake carrier from the well in the front seat and handed it to Dan, then reached in and took another. ‘Poor Donna. Had to sit with her feet around these all the way from Kingsgrove. They don’t look too crash hot but she tried.’

  ‘They’ll be great.’ Dan took one of the cake carriers as Gary slammed the door and locked it, then looked along the street. ‘Here’s Sharon.’

  A car pulled up and the woman behind the wheel got out and slammed the door. ‘Good, I need some help.’ There was no beating around the bush with Sharon. Since the day she’d arrived at Frangipani House, she’d dealt with life with a brisk efficiency that not even Kate had been able to soften. As she’d said, it takes all kinds.

  ‘Wait till you see what Santa left under the tree,’ Gary said with a grin and a sideways glance at Dan.

  ‘Since when have we done presents? Don’t tell me you’ve started some bloody Kris Kringle and not bothered to tell me. That’d be . . .’ She stopped when she saw Gary’s smirk. ‘What?’

  ‘You’ll see, and believe me, it will be a surprise,’ he said, singing the last word.

  Gary could be so bloody annoying. One minute he’d been remonstrating with Dan and now he was setting Shelby out as bait. If ever there was a hunter, it was Sharon. She could unpick an argument with forensic precision. No wonder she was rising in the police force.

  ‘You know I don’t like surprises so spit it out.’ She gave Gary a menacing look, the same one she’d used to intimidate him as a child.

  ‘You’ll have to wa—’

  She took a step closer and gave him her super-focussed, ice-blue eye contact, the look that drilled right into you without blinking. Gary took a step back and shook his head. ‘Jeez, you’re a psycho.’

  Sharon raised one brow but still didn’t blink.

  ‘Okay, okay. It’s Shelby. Shelby’s back.’

  Sharon shrugged and turned away. ‘That’s it? That’s your big deal?’ She leaned into the car and pulled out two plastic shopping bags bulging with packets of chips and lollies. No one had ever claimed that Sharon was a cook.

  Gary’s shoulders slumped and he glanced at Dan with a help-me-pal look. Dan shrugged. You’re on your own, mate.

  ‘So she’s here. Big deal. She’ll take off again.’ She locked the car and set off up the path. ‘Come on, you two.’

  They had drinks in the living room so everyone could admire the tree while the children opened their gifts. Shelby cursed her lack of forethought but the truth was, she hadn’t known about Gary’s kids.

  After everyone had admired the tree, they moved out the back onto the deck. Dan had put out
brightly coloured aqua and red folding chairs, and with the runner down the centre of the table, the bright napkins and table decorations, it had a festive effect. Now that the first hurdle was over, Shelby started to relax.

  They crowded around the table, just like the old days, and the prawns and crabs were brought out on large platters. Deb had broken the crab shells to make the meat easier to pick and had made a couple of different dipping sauces. There wasn’t much ceremony as they started to eat.

  Dan raised his glass and looked around the table. ‘Hang on you lot. A toast to Kate.’

  ‘To Kate,’ the voices echoed as they raised their glasses.

  ‘And welcome home, Shelby,’ Dan added, his glass still held aloft as he glanced meaningfully around the table and finally turned to her. ‘Welcome home,’ he repeated, his eyes meeting hers.

  The guests’ expressions ranged from belligerent to curious as they raised their glasses and tipped them towards her. These were the people she’d grown up with, spent countless Christmases with, yet they were like strangers, with whole new adult lives lived in her absence. And whose fault was that? Shelby tilted her glass towards them and looked around the table.

  ‘Thanks, everyone. I’m really glad to be here.’

  Shelby was starting to enjoy herself. After the initial surprise that she was there, they’d settled into what was obviously a familiar routine. Watching them, she could see sharper or softer manifestations of their childhood characters in the adults they’d become. Gary’s childhood belligerence had been parlayed into a mock-aggressive buffoonery whereas Sharon had sharpened even more than how she’d been as a child. With her disagreeable manner and lack of warmth she’d found it impossible to make friends back then. It was probably still true. No doubt they were looking at Shelby in the same way, noting all the changes for better or worse.

  The baked ham and salads were now on the table and the wine was flowing freely. Shelby let herself go with it, enjoying the slight buzz.

  Gary laid down his fork. ‘So how’s life in LA?’

  It had to happen and Shelby decided to go with the truth, or a glossed version of it. ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘Just okay?’ His eyebrows raised and he turned to the others to include them in his incredulity before turning back to her. ‘You were going to set the world on fire.’

  ‘Yes, well, I guess all I’ve managed is a slight glow. It’s tough over there. Really tough.’ That didn’t even come close but she wasn’t going to tell them that.

  Annoyingly, he pushed on. ‘Haven’t seen you in any movies.’

  Shelby gritted her teeth. ‘I’ve been in a hair commercial and done some theatre.’

  She could see them all smirking, or was that the wine making their faces look like that? She set her glass down carefully.

  ‘You could have done that here,’ Sharon said right on cue, as though she and Gary were working like the tag-team of old. Chip, chip, chip. She was right, of course. Shelby could have done all that, probably more, if she’d stayed in Sydney. But she’d wanted to get away and show them she was different. She’d wanted a life where she wasn’t one of the parcel of brats from Frangipani House, mixed in with kids that weren’t even her brothers and sisters. Looking at the faces around the table, she kept that thought to herself.

  ‘You’ve got no idea what it’s like over there. Pretty girls are a dime a dozen. Everyone has something to sell. Every single minute of the day.’

  ‘That hard, huh?’ Sharon observed coolly.

  Shelby turned to Sharon, and infused her stare with ice. ‘Yes, that hard. But you know what? The truth is I’m just not pretty or talented enough.’ The words were out before she could stop them, coaxed perhaps by the wine and the heat. It was a truth she’d been hugging to herself for years, unwilling to admit that she was never going to achieve her dream.

  Deb and Chloe exchanged looks as Dan frowned at Sharon.

  ‘Not pretty enough? You’re bloody gorgeous. Ouch!’ Gary glared at Sharon. ‘Shit! That hurt.’

  ‘Stop it,’ Dan warned. ‘All of you.’

  ‘Yeah, but she started it,’ Gary said and they all burst into laughter.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Over the afternoon others had dropped in. Jared, who’d only stayed six months before he’d been able to return to his own home, had become a custom car builder, and there was Mary with her sweet baby. Michael, an up-and-coming artist, brought his new girlfriend Iris who was covered in tatts and piercings. They had all lived as part of the family at some stage and it gave Shelby an odd sense of disconnect, having missed out on what had happened in their lives. They were interesting people, doing interesting things.

  When Donna emerged from the kitchen carrying the pavlovas, Shelby jumped up to collect the fruit salad from the fridge. Inside, she peeled off the cling film and the exotic aroma drifted up. It was just like Kate’s. She smiled a little as she stirred it, then tossed in some mint sprigs she’d collected from the pot by the door.

  Walking across the deck back to the table, the brimming cut glass bowl carefully balanced in her hands, she had a chance to observe them all. Gary wore a paper crown tilted to the back of his head and was possibly the worse for wear. His kids were running wild in the garden, screeching at the top of their lungs while Donna tried to round them up. Sharon and Deb were deep in a heart-to-heart while beautiful Chloe sat, chin in her hand, gazing at Dan. Interesting.

  As Shelby squeezed between Dan and Sharon and laid the fruit salad on the table next to the pavlovas, they all fell silent. Sensing the change in mood, she noted the exchange of surreptitious looks.

  ‘Why is fruit salad back on the menu?’ Sharon asked finally.

  Shelby let her gaze travel over them, confused. What was the problem? Only Gary had picked up his spoon and taken a small scoop from the bowl.

  ‘We always have it,’ she said with a shrug.

  ‘No we don’t,’ Sharon said. ‘We haven’t had it since Kate died.’ She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. ‘We all agreed that first Christmas after she died that we’d hated it and wouldn’t have it again. We have other ways to honour Kate. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You were never here.’

  Shelby glanced around the table, registering each expression and recognising the truth in what Sharon had said. Then her gaze fell on Dan. Misery and guilt warred on his face.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she demanded. ‘Why let me cut up all that bloody fruit when you knew no one wanted it?’

  ‘I want it, it’s not that bad,’ Gary offered, taking another spoonful.

  ‘Shut up, Gary,’ Sharon said.

  Dan half rose from his seat and leaned towards Shelby. ‘Shelby, I—’

  ‘Forget it.’ She backed away from the table, heat rising in her cheeks, then turned on her heel and walked back into the house.

  Idiot. The word hammered repeatedly through Dan’s mind as he left the table and followed her, ignoring the raised eyebrows and the elaborate nudge that Gary gave Sharon. Let them think what they wanted.

  He was an idiot to have put Shelby in this position.

  The kitchen was empty and he strode into the hall, looking towards the stairs. But on an impulse he checked the living room first and she was there by the tree, her arms wrapped tightly around her body as she stared out the window.

  ‘Shelby . . .’

  She didn’t turn. ‘Go away.’

  The Christmas tree had already shed some needles, which lay golden and dry on the floor. Dan wished he could pick one up and dig it in his eye. He was an idiot. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I said go away and I meant it.’

  She turned then and he saw that she wasn’t crying as he’d thought. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her top lip caught and held by her bottom teeth. She looked like a woman withstanding one more punch to the gut, hardening just that little bit more.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It was stupid.’

  ‘Why did you let me make that salad whe
n you knew how much they disliked it?’

  He’d thought she was angry, and maybe she had been, but this seemed more personal, as though she was digging for some truth that needed to be tested. Are you with me or against me?

  He shook his head, trying to formulate the words as a sick feeling roiled in his gut.

  ‘It was setting me up,’ she continued, then turned back to face the window. ‘I thought you were different,’ she muttered.

  Despair gripped him as he took a step closer. ‘I didn’t say anything because you looked so happy making that fruit salad. And I liked that.’

  She nodded and reached out to make an unnecessary adjustment to a bauble on the Christmas tree, still not looking at him.

  ‘And because it made you feel connected to the family, to Kate and to the house again,’ he added, taking another step.

  Her expression relaxed a little and she slid a glance at him.

  ‘I thought it was worth it to see you so happy. I never expected them’ — he nodded his head towards the backyard — ‘to be so nasty.’ He covered the remaining distance until he stood just behind her. He raised his arms then dropped them again in indecision.

  Finally she turned to face him. She looked so lost and alone, her arms hanging straight at her sides, resigned. ‘I guess there’s too much history. It’s just too hard to go back.’

  ‘Maybe. But it’s never too late to start again.’ He pulled her into his arms, heedless of her small cry of surprise. Her eyes widened and darkened, and her teeth tugged on her plump bottom lip. She was every sort of temptation he’d ever dreamed of, and this time he wasn’t sure he’d manage to keep it to a chaste kiss. She dropped her gaze and he marvelled at the long lashes. Before he knew it, his hand moved over the curve of her shoulder, tracing over skin as delicate as exquisite china. In answer, her body wedged in closer, nestling against him until he closed his eyes and fought for control.

  ‘I know there’s no mistletoe but it is Christmas. So if you’re going to kiss me, I’d do it now.’

  His eyes flew open. She was all luminous, huge eyes and slightly puckered mouth, a sweet, sexy come-on that banished doubt. Dan’s mouth closed hungrily over hers as his body snapped with desire. Her lips opened willingly and he moved the kiss deeper, taking what he’d never dared to hope for. She reached up and threaded her hands through his hair, changing the angle of the kiss and taking charge in a way that inflamed him.