‘Some of the older girls said they were hot.’ Libby looked sceptical, all of her six years suddenly showing. ‘But I think they were probably okay because they’d taken their tops off to cool down. They put them back on when we passed, though.’
‘Right,’ Anouk managed. Just about.
She imagined that the temperature of the brothers wasn’t the kind of hot the older girls had meant. But the image of Sol shirtless wasn’t one she was ready to deal with right at this moment.
‘Sometimes we take them bottles of water to help cool them down.’
Despite herself, Anouk suppressed a grin.
‘Very thoughtful of you.’
Libby, her eyes on her Santa face, didn’t notice.
‘Sol and Malachi look after us, it’s only fair that we do a little for t
hem. They’re who we buy the Christmas village scenes for. It’s special to them.’
‘I’m pretty sure they’re looking after you because you already take care of people,’ Anouk said softly.
‘Well...maybe, but they know exactly what we’re going through, and that makes it easier to talk about.’
Another titbit of information. Anouk felt like a tiny bird, starving for every morsel dropped about Sol. She bit her lip.
‘How did they come to be carers?’
She’d tried to sound casual, but the little girl glanced up sharply.
‘That’s their story to tell.’ Libby shut down immediately, sounding for all the world like a young woman and not a six-year-old kid. ‘Don’t you think?’
It was all Anouk could do not to let it show how flustered she felt. She plastered a smile on her face. She wouldn’t think about Sol Gunn a second longer.
‘Okay, Libby, I’ve finished that batch of Father Christmas faces. What should I make now?’
And she wouldn’t be going anywhere near the new building site, either.
* * *
Sol knew she was there even before he turned around. It was as though the entire air seemed to change and shift around him and where it had been peaceful before, now a kind of energy was pulsating through it.
He took a breath and took his time, turning slowly. She looked delicious standing there, all bundled up in a big coat, a Christmas pudding hat and a very green, Christmas-tree-patterned scarf.
‘Anouk.’ Even her name tasted absurdly good as it rolled off his tongue. ‘Just passing?’
‘Don’t be fatuous,’ she replied evenly. ‘Libby said I could find you here. As I imagine you knew she would.’
He wanted to deny it but couldn’t.
Libby was confident and talkative, a good kid who would have been able to show Anouk around without becoming tongue-tied. But he supposed there was a tiny piece of him that had also known the six-year-old would have told Anouk about the new centre.
He just hadn’t known, until now, whether Anouk would have taken the bait and come to see him for herself. He tried to ignore the sense of satisfaction that punctured him.
‘Ah, but you didn’t have to come.’
‘Of course that’s what your response would be.’ She drew her lips into a thin line.
Yet Sol couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t a denial either. He was barely even aware of dropping his tools and making his way to her, feeling the heat start to come back to his frozen limbs as he stamped his way over the stony ground.
‘So why are you here?’