All I Want for Christmas by Ros Clarke

Author:Ros Clarke
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Alzheimers, Holidays, office party, london, ros clarke, UK, Christmas, Contemporary Romance, all i want for christmas
ISBN: 9781505674774
Publisher: Entangled
Published: 2011-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

5

Anna curled up in bed, staring at the phone handset on her bedside table.

It was after eleven. Would he really call?

She wouldn’t blame him if he’d had second thoughts. Why would anyone want to get involved with her? Hugh was the kind of man who could easily find another girlfriend. A woman who was free to spend her time with him. One who was able to put him first, instead of an increasingly needy mother.

She would just tell him not to bother. Give him an easy way out. That was the best she could do.

The phone buzzed. Anna picked it up immediately, in case her mother woke.

“Is this a good time?” Hugh asked. “Can you talk?”

“Mum’s in bed, if that’s what you mean.” Anna heard the bitterness in her own voice.

“Anna, I’m so sorry.”

He’d phoned her to say he was sorry? She counted to ten and took a deep breath. “I told you. I don’t need your pity.”

He bit back a curse. “I meant, I’m sorry I accused you of being a coward.”

“Oh.” A smile crept across her face. The tension in her shoulders unclenched.

“I just wish you’d felt you could tell me.”

“Talking about it doesn’t change anything.”

“It changed things between us. That’s why, isn’t it?”

She sighed. “Yes, that’s why. Mum isn’t safe on her own. I pay for a care worker during the day so I can work, but otherwise I have to be at home with her. Evenings, weekends, holidays.” She was as blunt as possible. She needed to put him off. “So there isn’t any point. We couldn’t ever have more than lunch at Giovanni’s and a quick snog on the way back to the office.”

“Anna…” After a moment he continued, “How long has she been like this?”

“About eighteen months. She’s only sixty.” Anna swallowed. She hated talking about it. “So, she didn’t think anything of it when her memory first started to go. She’s too young.”

“Much too young.”

“Early-onset, they called it. Apparently some people get Alzheimer’s in their thirties or forties. Mum was lucky.”

“Not very lucky.”

“No. No, not very lucky. Hugh, there’s something else.”

After a moment, he asked gently, “What is it?”

She drew a deep breath. “It’s hereditary. Possibly. Probably.”

“Anna?” His voice was rough.

“Mmm?” She didn’t want to hear it. She braced herself for rejection.

“I wish I were sitting next to you right now.”

“Hugh…”

“I think you need someone to give you a hug.”

She paused, blinking back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “I don’t get many hugs.” Kisses and gentle tokens of affection from her mother, yes. Not crushing hugs of comfort from tall men with broad chests and strong shoulders.

“I could come over,” he offered.

She longed to say yes. She wanted to fling herself into his arms, to cry all over his shoulder and draw comfort from his warmth and strength. “No,” she choked out. “No, it’s late and it would worry Mum.”

“Okay. But the offer stands. Any time you need it.”

After they ended the call, she set the phone down on her bedside table.

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