Eventually she found herself alone with Oliver and she decided to take that opportunity to pick his brain, subtly of course, about Douglas’s history. Douglas’s story about his childhood Christmases still had Julia feeling ill-at-ease. In fact, when she wasn’t avoiding Douglas, stewing over him or watching the children like hawks (after the Christmas night disaster), it was all she thought about.
Oliver knew him best and Julia felt that, maybe, he could be a font of information.
After a few questions, diplomatically worded (she thought), Oliver cut eyes to her that were not lit with his usual good-natured light.
“What are your intentions regarding Douglas?” he asked bluntly.
“I… well,” she spluttered. Her intentions with Douglas? She didn’t know what to say, so she said, “I’m just curious.”
Oliver surveyed her for a moment which probably lasted about a second but the intensity of his eyes made it seem like an hour.
“I’m afraid curiosity isn’t good enough, Julia. If you genuinely cared, I would tell you, but since you’re just curious…” He let that hang and when Julia said no more, he excused himself and, for some reason, this made Julia feel like an absolute heel.
She was caught in a mad crush of happy, drunken people as the clock struck down to midnight (and it was never fun to be an unhappy, un-drunken person in that kind of situation).
At “five” she felt a warm hand on the small of her back. At “four” it was an arm that wound around her waist. At “three” it was pulling her firmly around. At “two” it was hauling her against a hard body. At “one” another arm joined it to tighten around her. At the strike of midnight, a sexy, scarred mouth descended on hers in a hard, thorough, unmistakably possessive kiss that seemed to last forever and stole her breath away.
Anyone who saw it would have been in no doubt that Julia and Douglas were a couple.
Regardless how good the kiss was or, more to the point, because of how good it was, and the point it so publicly made, Julia seethed all the way home.
Monique was still (thankfully) in Munich meaning they were all alone at the Kensington house. As Douglas pulled the parking brake up on the Jag, Julia darted out of the car only to have to stand on the steps to wait for him to let her in the house because she didn’t have a key.
I really, she thought, have to think ahead.
Her blood pressure, already nearly at brain attack level, ratcheted up a notch.
Douglas politely, though not trying to hide his amusement, allowed her to precede him into the house. She practically ran up the stairs only to hear him chuckle.
She was beginning to detest his chuckle. For fifteen years she rarely heard it and now it seemed to ring in her ears on a daily basis. At the top of the stairs she whirled to wait for him and watched as he took his time ascending like he had all the new year.
“I want you to release a press statement that says we are not an item,” she demanded irritably when he was four steps away.
He completed his ascension and then stopped several inches from her. Towering over her, he looked down at her, not down the length of his nose, as used to be his wont, but directly at her, eye-to-eye.
“And why,” he drawled, “would I do that?”
“Because we’re not a couple!” She wanted to stamp her foot at having to point out what she thought was the obvious.
He quirked a brow.
She was a woman prone to dramatics but not to violence.
Not until that moment.
She was saved from doing something she would regret by the door opening below.
Visions of Monique drifting in, wafting malevolence and baring fangs, made Julia’s chest tighten painfully.
Instead, from their vantage point at the top of the stairs, they saw Veronika enter on a giggle and then lose her footing and crash to the floor.
Julia and Douglas both descended the stairs rapidly, Douglas (of course) made it to the bottom first. Julia was wearing high-heeled, strappy bronze sandals and couldn’t catch herself in time at the bottom and ploughed into Douglas. To steady herself, she grabbed his waist with both hands. Worried about Ronnie, she didn’t pull her hands away but she peeked around his body and saw Veronika sprawled on the floor, her legs out in front of her and a loopy grin on her face.
Ronnie slowly lifted a curled hand, thumb extended then jerked it toward herself and said gaily, “Drunk!”
“Oh dear,” Julia sighed, releasing Douglas’s waist and moving around him. “We need to get her upstairs,” she told him, all the time looking down on Veronika.
“Sham’s very nie-sh,” Veronika slurred to the approaching Julia.
“She’s lovely,” Julia murmured to her as she bent down beside the girl and heard Douglas join them. “We’re going to get you upstairs to bed.”
“I am lucky,” Ronnie stated while Douglas silently put one shoulder under Ronnie’s armpit while his other hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it around his neck, lifting her up to her feet. Through his actions, Ronnie spoke. “To have you,” she motioned to Julia with her head, an action that threw her off balance and made her stumble, forcing Douglas to right her, “as friend.” She went on. “And you,” she turned to Douglas as he started walking her towards the stairs, “are hero!” she finished triumphantly.
Julia had no idea what Ronnie was talking about but she had no time to consider it as Ronnie made an unmistakably unpleasant noise.
“Quick, upstairs to the bathroom,” she told Douglas urgently.
Douglas didn’t hesitate. He reached down and slid an arm around the backs of Ronnie’s knees, hefted her up and swiftly moved up the stairs. By the time Julia made it to the door of the bathroom, Veronika was on her knees getting sick in the toilet.
Julia rushed forward passed Douglas to pull the girl’s dark hair out of her face and kneeled down to soothe her by stroking her back and murmuring to her. All the while, she did her best not to get sick herself at the sight, the sound and the awful smell.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Douglas said from the doorway, feeling his part in this current drama was done.
Julia just nodded, thinking, saved by the drunk Russian girl.
Days later they were back home at Sommersgate and Julia was coming in from running errands, entering by the kitchen door.
“Hey Mrs. K,” she greeted the older lady, “I could do with a cuppa. You need a break?”
Mrs. K turned peculiarly sparkling eyes to Julia and opened her mouth to answer when Ruby rushed into the room followed by Lizzie. They were both panting at their mad dash and they, too, had sparkling eyes.
“Auntie Jewel!” Lizzie puffed.
The children had survived the Christmas Night Meltdown valiantly. For several days they were quiet and introspective and Ruby had stopped shouting altogether (and Julia found, knowing the reason behind it, she now missed it). But they were beginning to pull out of it having had a great time with Sam’s family. Indeed, Julia had a queer sense that Ruby’s breakdown had allowed them all to settle more thoroughly into their new lives and begin to truly come to terms with their loss and start healing.
Right then, they seemed to be lit up with happiness and expectation.
“What’s up?” Julia asked, unable to stop a grin from spreading across her face at their jubilation. Ruby scrambled forward and grabbed Julia’s hand, giving it a hearty tug. Their excitement was catching and she let out a little laugh. “What’s happening?” she inquired again.
“Just come with us,” Lizzie ordered bossily, grabbing Julia’s other hand and pulling more strongly.
They led Julia to the leather couches of the entryway where Douglas and Willie were standing around the furniture. A fire blazed in the grate and Willie was looking down at something on the floor while Douglas watched Julia approach, his eyes roaming over her appreciatively (as he seemed inclined to do more often than not).