A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

A Needle Drop Moment

She looked very much like her mother at the moment.

"I'm s-sorry," Dair said earnestly - and received another blow.

"To her!" The girl pointed at Billie with her little index finger. "If someone's crying, it's always a Holyoake's fault."

Billie's snicker escaped her at the same time as Dair turned to her, and, peering into her eyes with an almost believable intensity, he rumbled, "I'm v-very, very s-sorry, cuore."

"And?" the little Holyoake pressed on.

"And?" Dair's eyebrows jumped up questioningly.

"And I'll do better–"

"Ah, sì, I'll d-do better from now on," Dair stated with a perfectly straight face.

Billie didn't have his acting ability and couldn't hold back a series of snorty laughs.

"Don't forgive him too quickly!" the girl ordered Billie, nodded with a 'my job here is done' mien, and stomped out of the bathroom.

Billie and Dair exchanged looks - and burst into laughter.

"It really isn't your fault," Billie said, once she could draw a breath. She glanced in the mirror and cringed. "Ooph, so embarrassing..."

"Knock-knock," Fiona's melodious voice came from the hall, and then she appeared in the same manner as her niece a few minutes before. "I was sent to check on you. I assumed you wouldn't need me to, since Federico was here; but according to the family's lore, 'if someone's crying–'"

"It's always a Holyoake's fault," Billie and Dair said in unison.

"Yeah." Fiona somewhat absent-mindedly studied the pattern on the wall tiles. "I suppose so, but I find that it mostly happens if one doesn't communicate with their Holyoake. Anyroad, you seem better." She gave Billie a rather spacey smile. "We already drank your coffee, Federico. And Rhys is making tea. Come to the sitting room, when you're ready."

She gave them a little wave and left. Billie glanced down at her hand that Dair was still holding.

"B-bene? Shall we?" he asked, and Billie nodded - and pulled at his hand. "Cosa?" he asked. "What is it?"

The thing was that Billie had just had a potential powerful revelation; but she didn't know how to ask for what could serve as a confirmation of said revelation.

He studied her face, and a disbelieving chuckle rumbled in his throat. Billie immediately decided that she had been mad and there was no way that kissing him made her feel better as well - and then he gently cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers. His fresh, warm breath tickled her lips; and she closed her eyes, melting into his tender caresses.

She wasn't sure whether 'better' was how he made her feel, but she was definitely dazed and sort of quaggy enough to face his family again. Dair stepped back, picked up her hand again, and led her back to the sitting room.

"Oh, Sybil, dearest, come, come." Nana beckoned Billie, rings sparkling on the older woman's pale dry fingers. "My poor child. Come, sit with me."

"I apologise for my lack of–" Billie started muttering, abandoning Dair and gingerly taking a spot next to Nana on a sofa.

"Nonsense, dear!" Nana interrupted. "You've got nothing to apologise for." She took Billie's hand and patted it. "It's such an emotional time for you. A new project; the busy season; and I'm sure my grandson is only causing more stress to your life."

"He isn't!" Billie cried out - and saw Dair throw her a side glance from the piano where he and the vicar were discussing something in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I'm glad to hear it," Nana gave Billie's knuckles another comforting stroke. "Don't let his ultramasculine image deceive you. The boy is a lamb."

Billie gawked at the older woman, and Nana Holyoake gave out a brittle little laugh.

"He reminds me of his grandfather Roland so much," she said, her expression growing even more affectionate. "We used to call the Reverend Frollo in our youth. I was married to his older brother, as you know. Roland was all fire and brimstone, and then Esther showed up and... converted him." The woman gave astounded Billie a cheeky wink. "Suddenly, all his religious zealotry was forgotten, and he was galavanting around Europe with her on her adventures. He's always been a putty in her hands. And you can always tell what a man is really like if you watch them with children, cats, and waiters."

She pointed at Dair who was sitting on a bench at the piano, bouncing one of the red-headed twins on his lap. A dark-haired girl was standing on the bench behind him, using his curls to show her cousin Teddy how to make a plait.

"Alright, I think we're ready," the vicar said.

The girl deftly added a bright yellow tie on the end of the plait; and soon all children were sitting on the carpet at Billie's feet, their warm sturdy sides and backs pressed to her shins.

Billie had heard the song before, as little interest as she had in music in general. The vicar's long fingers ran the keys - and Billie thought of Neruda's line about a song that 'searched the wind to touch her ear.' Dair's raspy, gruff voice crept, and rolled, on the verge of a whisper; a murmur, a purr, and a growl.

She couldn't tear her eyes off his profile, sometimes obscured by the vicar rocking forward; and Billie caught herself craning her neck, trying to once again see Dair's long, fluffy lashes; his full bottom lip; the high cheekbone, an edge of shadow and light cutting across it, above the scar.

Via via
Vieni via con me
Entri in questo amore buio
Non perderti per niente al mondo
Via via
Non perderti per niente al mondo
Lo spettacolo d'arte varia
Di uno innamorato di te

The melody trailed away; and one could hear how silent the room was. Ulla's sharp exhale shook everyone out of the trance; and Lily was the first one to clap. Others joined. Dair grinned at the vicar; and a new song started.

This one was livelier, and Billie noticed the small movements in the room: Will tapping the tips of his fingers to his knee; Ulla nodding, along with the rhythm; Viola mouthing words sometimes. This time, the applause was unanimous.

"One more, Federico?" Nana asked. "The hardest one?"

Dair shot a quick glance at Billie and smirked.

"Eric might have mastered it by now," the vicar said, his tone amused, "but I don't know if I can keep up with him these days. Azzuro, right?"

"Oh that's a tough one," Viola commented behind Billie.

"Wait, isn't it a Die Toten Hosen song?" Ulla asked, and the doctor emitted a lilting laugh.

"It's Paolo Conte as well," she said. "If you're only familiar with the punk version, the original will be a tad too vanilla for you. And it's much faster, especially at the end."

"I used to make Federico go again and again, faster each time" Nana said with pride. "I remember how Pat, Rhys' father, kept telling me to stop torturing the boy. You never complained, though, did you, dear? Sometimes you'd start crying, but never wanted to stop."

"I knew you were only t-trying to help, Nonna," Dair answered softly.

The matriarch blew him a kiss, and the vicar lowered his hands on the 'ivories.'