Tala didn't know how to stand. She was suddenly hyper aware of her hands and her feet, her bare face and her haphazard ponytail, as she shifted from foot to foot behind Raphael when they heard his mother's car outside. Her nerves were growing, running rampant through her body, and she tried to smother them with a smile.

Raphael reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers before he opened the door and a bitter wind struck them, howling into the hallway. She huddled next to him, peering past him to see a red car behind her own. The woman who stepped out looking nothing like Raphael: she was short and round, her blonde hair greying, but she shared his infectious grin and crinkled eyes.

"Raffy!" she called, beaming and waving as she helped March out of his car seat. As soon as he was free, he raced over to the front door.

"Daddy!" he cried, arms outstretched, and Raphael let go of Tala's hand to swoop down and cuddle his son, swinging him up onto his hip. He kissed his cheeks, holding him tight and swaying him.

"I missed you so much, March," he said. Tala's knees weakened at the sight of father and son.

March pouted. "I missed you, Daddy," he said. "Don't go again."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, only letting his son down when his mother joined them. "Hi, Mum." He hugged her tightly and over his shoulder, she met Tala's eye with a youthful grin. When Raphael noticed, he chuckled. "This is Tala. My girlfriend," he added. "Tala, this is my mum, Davina. And March, of course."

A beam bubbled onto Tala's lips when he called her his girlfriend. It felt strangely natural. It felt right, as though the word was a glove tailored to her hand. "Hi," she said. "It's really nice to meet you." She held out her hand but Davina pulled her straight into a hug.

"My goodness, you're absolutely stunning! And your name is so pretty. Tala," she murmured. "Where's that from?"

"Mum." Raphael rolled his eyes but Tala smiled.

"It's Tagalog," she said. "Filipino."

"No wonder you're so beautiful," Davina said with a hearty laugh. In a matter of seconds, she had grown on Tala. Hustling everyone into the house so she could shut out the cold, she said, "I hope Raffy hasn't been driving you mad, darling."

"Not at all. He's fantastic company." She hugged herself as she followed Raphael through to the kitchen and fondly watched with soft eyes as he made a drink for his son and put the kettle on. March sat at the table, swinging his legs and staring at Tala. He was shamelessly intrigued by her.

She was used to that, the blatant curiosity of children, having taught his age for six years, and she beamed right back. "Hi, March. Your daddy's told me lots about you."

"This is Tala, March," Raphael said, one hand on his son's shoulder. The other reached for Tala's hand, his palm warm against hers.

"I like your top," March said, after studying her for a moment. "Is it soft?"

Tala laughed. He was definitely Raphael's son: olive skin; inquisitive dark eyes, and an obsession with all things soft. "It's really soft," she said, offering him her arm. When he stroked it, he gasped and knocked over his empty glass. Raphael caught it before it rolled off the edge.

"It's so fluffy!" he cried out. "I want one, Daddy!"

Raphael ruffled his son's hair. "I guess we'll have to wait and see what Santa brings," he said. "Were you good for granny?"

He nodded furiously and Davina backed him up.

"He was an angel," she said. "Just like you were you were his age. Such a sweet little boy." She kissed her grandson's forehead, and then Raphael's. "An absolute delight. We had fun, didn't we, Marchie? He did miss you, though."

"My little daddy's boy," he said. He poured two cups of coffee and a tea for his mother, adding a dash of milk and a spoonful of sugar. "Excited for Christmas, Scooby?"

"Yes!" March bounced in his seat. "Is Santa coming tonight?"

"As long as you're sleeping." He tapped March's nose. "He knows if you're awake and he might not come."

March clapped his hands over his eyes. "I wanna sleep now!"

Tala wanted to reach out and hug him, a soft smile tickling her lips. When he dropped his hands, he stared straight at her. He had his father's eyes, and his smile. She liked that, that the little boy had inherited more from his father than the mother who didn't deserve him.

"What's your name?" he asked. "I forgot."

"I'm Tala."

"How old are you?"

She chuckled. Her students were obsessed with age, hers and their own, guessing her to be anywhere from twelve to forty. "I'm twenty-eight," she said.

"That's a lot," he said with a gasp. He held up four fingers. "I'm five."

Raphael laughed and uncurled his son's thumb from his palm. "That's five," he said, counting it out on March's fingers.

"Like I said," Davina interjected, "he's just like you."

He feigned offence and pulled his son close, one arm around his shoulders. March was still fixated on Tala.

"Are you staying here?" he asked. "For Christmas?"

"I am," she said. "Is that ok with you?"

He thought about it. He nodded. Then he held up his hand. "If you know the password. You have to guess."

Raphael grinned as he watched Tala interact with his little boy.

"Ooh, ok," she said, drumming her fingers on her lips. "Can I have a clue?"

March frowned in thought before he leant across the table and cupped his mouth, loudly whispering, "It's my birthday."

Tala's grinned widened. She leant closer, playing his game. "Let me guess," she whispered. "Is it in ... November?"

His eyes brightened and he nodded. She pursed her lips as though she even had to think.

"How about ... the twentieth of November?"

March gasped so loudly that his grandmother jumped. He wore utter shock on his face as though she had performed the most incredible magic trick. "How did you know?!"

She tapped her nose. "I'm a wizard," she said. "You must be a ... Scorpio?" She pressed her thumb and forefinger together like pincers. "You're the scorpion. Is that right?"

March looked as though he was about to pop, nodding so hard that he was at risk of damaging his neck. Shooting to his feet, he pulled up his jumper to show off his t-shirt, poking his bellybutton. "I've got a scorpion on my tummy."

"That's so cool! I love your top, March."

He grinned. "It's my favourite." He pointed at her. "You've got a snowman."

"I have, yeah. D'you like it?"

He nodded, focused wholly on her even when his father and grandmother murmured a side conversation about how the weekend had gone. Tala didn't let it distract her from the little boy: she could see a hundred questions on the tip of his tongue as he racked up everything he wanted to know about her.

"When's your birthday?"

"The fourteenth of March," she said.

"The fourteenth of me!" He giggled. "What's your star sign?"

"I'm a Pisces."

"The fish!" he cried out, miming a fish with his hands and mimicking its lips. Tala couldn't help but chuckle. He was adorably contagious, his childish glee catching on her humour.

"Yeah! You're really good at star signs," she said. "Do you know your daddy's?"

"Daddy's Sagittarius," he said with proud confidence. "Granny's Aries and my auntie Domi is ... Taurus."

Tala was impressed. It showed on her face. "Wow. You're really smart, March."

Raphael piped up. "Can you remember your cousin's?" he asked. "Baby Saffy?"

March frowned and shook his head.

"The scales?" his father prompted, and his son's face lit up.

"She's Libra!"

"That's my little genius," Raphael slung an arm around his grinning boy's shoulders. "Hey, Scooby, want to know something really cool?"

"What?"

He glanced at Tala and back at March. "Guess what Tala's name means?"

She chuckled when she caught on, her eyes on March, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Do you want a clue?"

He nodded.

"It's something twinkly in the sky," she said, pointing up.

"The moon?"

"Close! What else is in the sky at night?"

He thought for a moment before realisation dawned and a word burst out of him. "Stars! You're a star?"

"Yes! That's what my name means. Tala means star."

"Tala," he murmured. "Starla. You can be the star! In the nativity, at church!"

"Slow down a bit, Scoobs. This is going to be Tala's first time at our church. Maybe she can just watch." He turned to Tala. "Our minister likes to have fun, get the kids up during the service, act out the nativity a bit. Very low-key."

She met his foot under the table. "It sounds perfect," she said. "I can't wait."

When March raced upstairs to the bathroom and Davina headed out to grab something from the car, Raphael stood and pulled Tala to her feet, his hands resting on her hips as he gazed at her with unadulterated adoration in his eyes.

"You're amazing with March," he said. "You're just ... you're so good with him. Watching you talk to him ... I think I'm falling even more in love." He tilted her head back and kissed her, such a gentle kiss that she felt as though she was floating when his lips met hers and one hand held the back of her neck, cradling her in a gentle embrace. "Meeting you is making me believe in fate."

"Really?" She smiled against his lips, kissing him again. "You think this was fate?"

"Absolutely," he said. "What were the chances? How many things had to happen for us to meet at Halloween and here too?"

"A lot of things," she murmured.

"Mmm. A lot of things." He pulled her into a hug. He smelt intoxicating, wearing his own clothes and his own cologne, and she inhaled him as though he was the most addictive drug.

Little footsteps thudded down the stairs and before they could pull apart, March wrestled his way between them, reaching up for his father. Raphael laughed and pulled him up.

"You never miss a hug, do you, Scooby?"

"What does Scooby mean?" Tala asked.

"March is my little detective, always asking questions," he said. "My little Scooby-doo."

"Oh my God. That's adorable. I don't think I've ever had a nickname."

"Yes you do!" March cried out. He sounded offended. "You're Starla!"

Raphael gave her a knowing look. "You're Starla," he said. He kissed her, quickly. "You're a star."

Davina left after two cups of tea, with another tight hug for Tala and plentiful snuggles and kisses for her son and her grandson. A couple of hours were easily whiled away as March showed her around the house from a child's perspective, telling her the names of all his stuffed animals and pointing out his favourite books.

The minutes passed in a whirlwind, when it was time to get back in the car and head to church, and Tala didn't give herself time to think about how she had inserted herself into the family as though she belonged there, infringing on their traditions and hijacking their Christmas. She just wanted to embrace the upgrade on the Christmas she had been expecting, listening to March chattering away from the backseat.

The sky was pitch black. Darkness had fallen without them noticing, tucked up in the comfort of Raphael's home with hot coffee in their hands and something to eat. Davina had brought a cake over, a handmade Victoria sponge that she and March had whipped up that morning, and they had eaten that in lieu of a proper meal. It was Christmas time after all.

Quiet roads led to the brightly lit picturesque church, a beautiful building with a bell that rang loud and clear when it hit six o'clock. Fairy lights were strung up in the trees outside the little chapel, a gentle celebration of the holiday, and cars lined the street. Raphael pulled up at the end of the line and darted round to open Tala's door before she had even unbuckled her seat belt.

"Such a gentleman," she said. He kissed her hand.

"I've got a role to model," he said, helping March out of the car.

He held his son's hand and Tala's, the three of them walking in a line to the church. It was freezing outside, especially without her gloves or anything thicker than her leggings, but Raphael's touch warmed her up, sending heat from her hand to her heart.

For such a small town, the little church was buzzing with life for the Christmas Eve service. The congregation was younger than Tala had expected: there were quite a few children, toddlers running around with antlers on their heads as older children found their friends and huddled together, giggling on a pre-Christmas high.

"This is so sweet," she murmured as they found a seat. They were just in time, too, before the minister took his place at the front with his hands on the lectern, a fatherly smile on his face. He didn't scorn the children, letting them play as he started to speak.

It was the perfect way to start Christmas, Tala thought, singing through her grin when it was time for a carol. It was hard not to laugh at the way Raphael sang: badly, as though he was doing drunken karaoke, but he was throwing his all into it. March giggled at his father, watching him instead of trying to read the words he couldn't decipher. He still sang along. He had picked up the words over the years.

It wasn't a long service. The hour whizzed by when the minister made it interesting and engaging, calling up the excitable children to act as donkeys and wise men. March jumped at the chance to carry the gold, and Tala handed over the role of the star to a little girl who had a sparkling, star-speckled top.

Raphael held her hand as they watched the hilarious rendition of a nativity scene, with a seven-year-old Mary who dropped the plastic baby Jesus, and a six-year-old Joseph with uncontrollable gas. The effort of keeping her laughter in ended up with tears rolling down Tala's cheeks, a snort escaping her when March threw the gold and dented the doll's face, much to his horror.

It reminded her of the children she worked with, the hilarious and unpredictable creatures who enriched her life. There had never been any doubt in her mind that she wanted to work with children, and there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted to be a mother. She wanted that more than anything, to experience motherhood in all its forms.

"Are you crying?" Raphael asked, leaning close to her. She spluttered a laugh.

"I'm going to piss myself," she whispered, clasping her hand over her mouth to stop her hysterics from showing through. "Oh my God. This is the best."

He grinned, his face so close to hers that she felt his cheek move. "When I was five or six, I played the angel Gabriel," he said, "and my sister was Mary. I really needed a wee so I was hopping on the spot, and I fell off the box. I completely squashed the baby Jesus and when Domi tried to help me up, she tickled me and I wet myself. One of the shepherds said that a sheep had had an accident, and the girl playing the sheep cried and said it wasn't her."

Tala couldn't hold onto her laughter anymore, pressing her face into Raphael's shoulder to muffle the sound of her hysterics. She clutched his jumper in her fist, her shoulders shaking when nonsensical hysteria took control and it didn't help when he laughed too, spurring on her contagious giggles.

"Oh my God, stop," she whispered. "I'm actually going to wet myself."

"Luckily, Santa gave me new underwear that year," he said, his arm around Tala's shoulders as he murmured to her and her whole body shook. Church had never been so fun when she was a child, part of a much more serious Roman Catholic church: this was the kind that she loved, an off-the-wall celebration of life and love with a poignant religious twist.

By the time the service ended, she had finally composed herself in time to spot a familiar face in the crowd. Raphael spotted her too, his shoulders stiffening when his eyes landed on his ex. He turned away, avoiding a confrontation, but Leela crossed the church with her eyes fixed on him.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, as though she had any right to the church. She didn't even glance down at her son, who cowered against Tala, away from his mother.

"Leela, please," Raphael said. He sounded tired. "Can we not do this here?"

"I thought you were leaving," she said. Her voice was hard. "You're not gone."

"Not yet. We still need to talk."

Tala didn't want to earwig but she couldn't help it when she was standing right there.

Leela crossed her arms. She was small, several inches shorter than Tala, but she cut an imposing figure with her demonic stare and her set stare. "No we don't," she said. "There's nothing we need to say. You're leaving."

"Exactly. So we should talk."

She threw her hands up. "I don't give a fuck," she said. "You can go. You go as far as you fucking want. It doesn't make a difference to me. We don't need to talk. We don't ever need to see each other again."

March tugged on Tala's elbow, pulling her away. His joy had fled, his eyes watering. His hand found hers, holding on tightly. He took her outside, where the cold wind struck them and he sniffed hard. Tala crouched down to his level and hugged him when he looked as though he was about to cry.

"Hey, it's ok," she murmured, wishing there was more she could say. She was thinking an awful lot worse in her head, cursing Leela in every way she could imagine, but she said nothing as she rubbed March's back. "It's ok, March."

"That's my mummy," he murmured. "She doesn't like me." He sniffed again, hard. "She said she doesn't love me."

Tala's heart split in two. Her humour had fled. Now she just felt sick, and she hated Leela even more. "I'm sure she does," she said, but March shook her head.

"I heard her say it once," he whispered. "She doesn't want me."

She hugged him tighter as though she could hug away Leela's hate, and he hugged her back. "You know what, March? You have a daddy who loves you more than anything. He loves you so much, and that's what matters. And your granny too, and your auntie and your little baby cousin, and your grandad. There are so many people who love you. You're the sweetest little boy I've ever met."

He pulled away from her, his cheeks pink. "Can I tell you a secret?"

She nodded and smiled at him, trying to get him to smile back. "Of course you can."

He leant close until his lips almost met her ear. "You can't tell Daddy."

"I won't."

Cupping his hand, he whispered, "I asked Santa for a new mummy."

That did it for Tala. Her eyes welled up with tears that she furiously blinked away, at risk of them freezing on her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around March as though he was her own son. He held onto her neck, holding her close. He didn't care that he had only met her a few hours ago: he had a childish acceptance. She was his father's friend, so she was a friend of his.

"I want a mummy that likes me," he said, his words muffled by her hair, and she couldn't say anything when there was a sudden lump in her throat, swallowing her words.

"You'll get one," she murmured. "One day, you'll have a mummy who loves you more than the world."

It was almost midnight, after a Christmas film and a bite to eat and a lot of excitement, followed by several books, by the time March was finally flat out in his bed and Raphael quietly crept downstairs, where Tala was curled up on the sofa. He sat next to her, pulling her close, and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I'm so sorry about earlier," he said, acknowledging it for the first time since they had left the church. He had come out with a stony face, one that had turned to sadness as they had driven home, but he had painted on a grin for his son. "God, she's toxic."

"March was really upset," Tala murmured. "He said that he heard her say she doesn't love him. God, I wanted to slap her so hard."

Raphael stiffened. "What the fuck? March said that? He heard that?"

"I don't know when," she said. "He was so upset. I ... I know none of this is my place or anything. I don't want to meddle. But, God, it was so awful to hear that. He's five and his mother says things like that?"

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Not for long." He laced his fingers with hers.

"What'd she mean, about you leaving? Are you moving?"

He nodded. "I didn't want to say anything earlier. I didn't want to freak you out or put you on the spot or anything," he said, "but that's why March and I were with my cousin at Halloween. We were scoping out Farnleigh as somewhere to maybe live in the future."

"Oh my goodness."

"We're supposed to be moving in the summer. In July," he said. "I ... shit, I really should've told you, shouldn't I? I just didn't want to freak you out when I really like you. But I think I'm going to see if we can move sooner. I just can't stand to be anywhere near Leela, and I want to get March as far away from her as I can."

"Raph..." She trailed off. "Why would that freak me out?"

"I didn't want you to think I was doing it because of you or I was trying to move too fast or anything, once I realised you were from Farnleigh. But ... that was stupid. I realise that now." He met her eye, his face softening when he saw her smile and felt her kiss.

Tala's heart was soaring. It wasn't a new feeling anymore, after the weekend with him, but it still felt like the most electrifying energy coursing through her. She rested her hand on his jaw as she kissed him.

"You're moving to Farnleigh," she said.

"I am. We are."

She kissed him again. She didn't know what to say but her touch conveyed her feelings. So did his. He kissed her deeply, devouring her with his lips, and he only pulled away when a quiet bell chimed from a clock above the fireplace.

"It's midnight," he murmured.

"It is?"

He closed his eyes. This kiss was slower, more tender, as though she was a delicate flower. "Merry Christmas, Tala."

Her mind fell still, her heart sinking to a comfortable rhythm as they sat tangled in each other's arms in the house that wouldn't be his for much longer. She had never felt more like she was in the right place at the right time, one hand in his hair and the other over his heart.

"Merry Christmas, Raph."

+ - + - +

i challenged myself to finish this chapter before starbucks shut at 10pm and it's 9:54 - mission accomplished! i really hope you like this chapter, a bit of a rollercoaster!