Read A Christmas Love Story Page 2

musician took him up as an apprentice. Soon he was playing in hotels and restaurants, and that’s where Mister Gates found him.

  He felt that his life was starting to take shape. And after seven years, he was on the next move – he was determined to be part of Grand International. He could feel it in his bones. And he could feel another thing – Miss Rafter sitting beside him and taking his hands off his face.

  “I remember how she used to poke that little line beside your lips.”

  “Miss Rafter…”

  “Don’t you? She always poked you while you were playing that Minuet piece, trying to force you to make a mistake.”

  “Miss Rafter…” he intruded more forcibly.

  “And I used to see you pretending to catch her finger with your teeth, pretending to try to bite it off. And then you’d laugh and start leaning on each other’s shoulder-”

  “Miss Rafter!” he said exasperated, “That was seven years ago. The three months seven years ago.”

  “And do you deny that you were in love with her in those three months?”

  “What?”

  “I see the way you looked at her. Although you didn’t tell it, it was obvious you were falling for her. And she was heartbroken when you left for the apprenticeship.”

  Wilhelm looked straight into Miss Rafter’s eyes unbelievingly. Adela’s heart was broken? By him? It wasn’t possible! “If she knew her heart would be broken, why didn’t she stop me? Why didn’t she tell me how she felt?”

  “Because,” Miss Rafter took his hand in hers, “every time she looked at you she saw your passion for music. It broke her heart to see that you weren’t able to perform under the ‘golden domes’ as you used to call places like these. She wanted you to reach your dream so much that she gave up tying you to the ground and instead helped you move up the ladder. Remember your first concert at the Sunday? The kids that turned up were all the neighbor’s children.”

  “I didn’t notice that.”

  “And she was paying that Master Musician a handsome price to buy you those tuxedos you wore to the restaurant.”

  “What? That was all her doing?”

  “Yes,” Miss Rafter grinned, “and Mister Gates wouldn’t have walked into that restaurant had it not been for the traffic jam that Adela ordered her chauffeur to cause.”

  “Good grief! That white limo that crashed into the tree in the next corner was her doing?” Wilhelm ran a hand down his face, unbelieving that all throughout his career, the one woman he had viewed as that selfish brat who couldn’t come to his real live performances was the one that arranged them all. “But Miss Rafter, what happened after that? Why didn’t she come to me? Two years ago, I mailed a concert ticket in hopes that she’d arrive. But she didn’t. I set up flowers and dinner and everything. She didn’t come!”

  Miss Rafter’s face fell. “Did you know she had an amputation?”

  “What?!” Wilhelm stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. “What happened?”

  “She was to go to an important conference that night as a representative of the company she was working for at the time. She changed her mind after receiving your letter and took the last flight out of London to catch up for your concert. And then the plane crashed.”

  “WHAT?!!!” he paced back and forth, “She was in that plane?! Why didn’t I know about this?”

  “She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want you to miss your performance. That’s how much she loved you.”

  “And all that time I thought she hadn’t cared…” Wilhelm stared at the tinsel and ribbons that hung over the doorway and at the Christmas wreath taped to the front of the reception desk. He settled his eyes on the vase of gold and red plastic poinsettias at the corner and then at the bells and snowflake cutouts dangling from the ceiling.

  “Miss Rafter, how’s Adela doing now?” he asked when he finally mustered his courage.

  “Without two legs, fine. Without company, terrible.”

  “Without two legs?”

  “You don’t expect coming out in one piece after a steel panel sandwiches you to the ground, do you?” she choked back her reply, trying to keep in the tears that were forming on her face. Then she could contain the sobbing no more and wept openly. Wilhelm sank back into the couch, taking her in his arms and letting his own tears flow freely. He couldn’t imagine how it was like for Adela, having to be alone for the holidays confined to a wheelchair. He knew she rewarded the servants with a day off during Christmas Eve. How lonely the day would be for her! She was all alone in the world, probably sitting in front of a fire, while he was here, trying to fish the biggest opportunity to fame.

  “Excuse me Sir Cringle?” an awaiting production assistant tapped him on the shoulder. “Five minutes, Sir.”

  “What?” he asked confused.

  “Five minutes. You have to get backstage now.”

  Wilhelm nodded and dismissed the man, turning his attention to Miss Rafter. He looked into the old woman’s eyes, noticing the sadness that welled up inside of her, feeling his own sadness overcome him. In these conditions, he could not play well. His mind would be on something else, something different. Screw GIM and Mister Larch. They could always find a new face to choke up with money. He needed to get home! “Miss Rafter? Think a cab will make it fast enough to the airport tonight?”

  --

  Adela looked out of the fireplace window, lazily counting the children that were passing by the house. Some came trotting along the walk between their parents. Others were tugging sleds or shouldering ices skates while their dogs followed them close behind. Others marched in groups, little kiddies excitedly going caroling. She gazed into the fire in the hearth, dismissing the Christmas lights that blinked outside on the street.

  Just then she heard a door opening and closing. There was a stomping of shoes in the hallway and a light switch clicking on. The shoes shuffled through the hall, over the red and green carpet that fit the mood of Christmas. It was a mood that she wasn’t feeling at the moment, being all alone inside her big house. She’d never felt as alone as this before. She thought that after her accident two years ago, she’d get used to the silence. But she never had, instead going deeper and deeper into depression.

  “Don’t bother lighting the tree Miss Rafter,” she called in her soft voice. With only her inside the house, there was no reason to light the tree, no reason to celebrate. When her parents died when she was at twelve, she’d never assembled that tree until four years later, when Will had begged her to put it up.

  “Oh Will,” she whispered, “if only you knew…”

  Her voice trailed as she heard the shoes shuffle into the lounge instead of into the kitchen, where Miss Rafter usually made a hot cup of cocoa after walking in the winter. Wait! Wasn’t Miss Rafter supposed to be on vacation in some foreign country right now? Then who in Santa’s name was in her house?! She heard the grand piano being opened and a slight sound as if someone had taken a seat on the chair.

  “What the-“ she wheeled herself into the hall and froze in the doorway when she saw the figure of a man, his coat and tails elegantly displayed and his fingers drawing out the notes to A Perfect Christmas. For a moment she couldn’t believe her eyes. He’s here! He’s really here!

  “Will?” she asked.

  “Merry Christmas, darling.” He turned around, his handsome face enhanced by the gentle light that came from the decorated tree in the middle of the lounge. Will had never seen a more beautiful sight in seven years. She looked exactly the same, albeit the parts of her legs below her knees missing. On her wheelchair, she looked every bit an angel, her locks still curled in ringlets, her eyes bluer than ever. He stood up and came towards her, then knelt in front of her and wiped away her tears.

  “I thought you’d never come back,” she sobbed, putting her hands around his neck and clinging to him, burying her face in the side of his neck and breathing in the scent that she’d missed for seven years.

  “I’d never disappoint my number one fan!
” he chuckled, leaning in and taking her in his arms. He carried his precious Adela to the seat and wrapped his arms around her, determined to make her feel that she’d never be alone in the world again. “I’ve missed you, my angel.”

  He kissed her on the cheek. “And I’m never going away ever again. That’s how much love you.”

  “But-but your Christmas concert is tonight. And what about Symphony Nine?”

  “Symphony Nine could do on its own. Besides, it’s getting a bit crowded there, anyway. What say you to a few rounds of Snowy Christmas Evening? Then we could make cups of cocoa and snuggle in front of the fireplace?” he started off with Jingle Bells quickly.

  “That would be nice,” she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder.

  “And no poking this time!” he grinned.

  “Oh Will. You’ve never changed.” She smiled up at him.

  “And I never will,” he murmured seconds before pressing his lips blithely to hers. Then he switched to Winter Wonderland, Adela’s favorite. This was going to be his best performance yet.

  END

  About the Author

  Angelaine Espinosa is currently a third-year medical student and part-time writer. She presently lives on a little island region in the Philippines, with her parents and a younger brother. She enjoys reading, singing, drawing and – of course – writing. Follow her on Twitter via @AngieNovelist, or visit espinosaangelaine.wix.com/officialsite.

  About the Cover

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