A very Mary Sheikhy Christmas - novella - completed

Chapter Two

"Of course, sorry," her pretty face scrunched up in she thought, heading towards the adjoining kitchen. He followed, wishing now he hadn't said anything, yet his stomach said otherwise. "How about scrambled eggs or an omelette?"

"Omelette sounds very nice, thank you." She looked back over her shoulder, smiling again, making him feel better. She had the most enchanting smile that invoked warmth through one, sending the coldness away. She was the sunshine in a cold wintry, summer day. He would like to see her without the Christmas trimmings of her attire, unless she dressed like this all the time.

Like a blinging, burning star, yet there was sadness behind her eyes and she kept a distance. She went about her business decorating, seeing to his needs, however, also aloof. Not one curious peak out of her about him. As if she didn't want to connect. It was like she was on a mission and a stranger on the doorstep wasn't going to stop what she had to do. Perhaps she was getting this all ready for her family.

He shook his head,  not so sure, while she saw to his omelette, opening a large box off to the side and grabbed what she wanted and saw to whisking eggs, adding cheese and mushrooms, pouring into a hot pan on the hotplate. Flipped over to finish it off, then slipped onto a plate, removed a fork and handed over to him. Then she began pulling out ingredients and placed on the large kitchen table to be soon covered in a large range of ingredients. "So what is next?" He asked, forking the omelette that melted in his mouth, and then waved the fork at the table as she glanced across. She removed a list from her apron pocket.

"Mince fruit pies, rum and apricot balls and shortbreads, followed by white Christmas and if I have time coconut slice."

His eyes widened. "You're not planning to do it all today?"

"No, this is a two day job, then I make the biscuits," she grinned at him. Suddenly different music piped through the cabin, still on the same theme. What she had it set on a timer?"

"Do you think you can tone it down a bit? Not off just down," he rushed in, not wanting to offend the one who had taken him in, even if in a Christmas overload. All the glitter, sparkle and tinsel, weren't so loud or in one's face anymore. It grew on one. The main room was warm and inviting rich in reds and greens with natural brown of the cabin itself. The tinkling of a bell announced the arrival of Sparky the kitten skidding across the lino floor, meowing. The hat firmly in place. "How did you get the hat on the cat?"

Mary removed a small remote from another pocket and turned down the music and replaced. "Easily, he took to it instantly. Don't try to take it off; he gets rather hissy over it."

"Yes, I know," he crossed over to the sink and rinsed off the plate. "Thank you, that was delicious."

"I get caught up with the Christmas cooking. I forget I had normal food." She pointed at the box off the side of the fridge. "If you fancy anything, just help yourself." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking doubtful. "Don't tell me you don't know how to cook?" Zafeer shrugged. He had no need to. Then again he really didn't want her to know who he really was. It wasn't important. She had no real meaning in his life. Just a passing moment in time. Yet, as he glanced at her, she felt a part of his life already in what, one day. Maybe she was rubbing off on him. He needed to explain. "I eat out a lot."

"Even breakfast," she asked amazed.

"Usually on the way to work," he declared, which was true, as he saw to his duties of the palace. All his meals prepared, whatever he wanted or desired was provided. He had no need to cook and it was never expected of him to do so. He had more important matters to deal with. Frowning, he pondered. What if he needed to for survive? He couldn't always rely on other people to see to his needs. "Perhaps you can show me," he suggested, "when you are not cooking your Christmas treats."