in his features. He would be able to walk out of here, through a crowd of the very children he had just delighted and enchanted, and not one of them would be able to guess his alter ego. ‘I’m Sam, by the way.’
‘Hi, Lee.’ They shook hands and she felt an instant spark of attraction leap between them.
He smiled. ‘I’m amazed I recognized you. You may not have been in costume but you practically wore that camera like a mask.’
‘Just how I like it,’ she conceded. ‘It’s like my very own invisibility cloak.’
‘You didn’t lower the camera once, from what I saw.’
‘Got to be ready. Can’t miss the shot.’ She shrugged.
‘Do you do this regularly then?’
‘Photographing the kids?’ She stuck her hands in her pockets. ‘Not really, just at this time of year. I offer my services in the run-up to St Nicholas’ Day. It’s nice to try and get some happy photos of the kids, you know? For them and their families. It must be so hard for them being in a place like this at this time of year.’
‘That’s really kind of you.’
There was a pause as they both remembered Tomasz. They grinned. ‘Are you going to draw a rabbit for me too?’ she chuckled.
‘If you’d like.’ His eyes shone with amusement as he watched her and she felt the spark ignite into a small flame.
She ran her hands through her hair. ‘. . . So are you an artist then?’
He nodded. ‘Full-time artist. Very occasional Sinter.’
‘Do you do Santa Claus too?’
‘Actually I do,’ he grinned. ‘But not the Easter Bunny. Every self-respecting man’s got to draw the line somewhere.’
‘Of course. The Easter Bunny’s the line, everyone knows that,’ she said, aware she was grinning madly too. She needed to stop grinning.
But his smile had crept into his eyes and curled his mouth into a curve so that for a few moments more they stood there, two strangers grinning inanely in the toilets.
She heard a silence start up as their smiles lingered and she realized the conversation would now have to turn into something more consciously sustained than just passing chit-chat, or dwindle out altogether.
‘Well, I . . . I’ll leave you in peace,’ he said reluctantly, gauging the same dilemma. He lifted the bag and walked around her. ‘It was nice meeting you, Lee.’
‘Yeah—’ She was scanning her brain, trying to think of something to say, something to keep him from leaving, something that didn’t sound completely desperate. But he was at the door already. ‘Hey, Sam.’
He turned.
‘You don’t do . . . house visits, do you?’ She smiled, knowing her cheeks were flaming.
‘House visits?’ He looked confused but definitely interested, the spark still flickering between them.
‘Yeah. Uh, my little boy is five—’
‘Oh.’ She saw the fire die in his eyes.
She swallowed hard again, wanting to tell him right here, right now, that he had nothing to worry about, that she was not looking for a father for her kid. But she couldn’t tell him yet what she was looking for either. That would be premature, precocious, and they were, after all, still just two strangers making small talk in a unisex hospital toilet. ‘I’m a . . . single mum, so he never really has anyone to do the Sinter thing with. His godfather has dressed up a few times, but the costumes are so bad I worry he’ll stop him believing!’
Sam watched her for a moment, digesting the information she’d just given him. Mother. But single. The ball was in his court . . . ‘Well, the costume’s borrowed,’ he said after a moment. ‘But I reckon I could get them to let me hold onto it for a bit longer.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, although I’m not looking forward to having to rip those eyebrows off again. I feel like I waxed myself.’ He checked his eyebrows’ appearance in the mirror quickly, dabbing them gently. They were still slightly red.
Lee chuckled. ‘That would be amazing. I can’t tell you how much he’d love it.’
‘He’s five, you said?’
‘Yes, his name’s Jasper.’
He walked back towards her and put the bag down, taking out his phone. ‘Well, if you can write a short list of some of the good and naughty things he’s done this year, and give it to me when I turn up, I’ll put it in the book of shame . . .’ he said in a funny Halloween voice, looking up at her from beneath his lowered lashes and making her stomach somersault.