Текст книги "Beneath the Shadows"
Автор книги: Sara Foster
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Ben was already in the hallway, and Grace was glad that he couldn’t see her face as she replied, ‘Of course not.’
‘So,’ Annabel said a few hours later, looking around the living room, ‘shall we loll here getting drunk, or shall we get stuck in to a few of these boxes?’
‘How about both?’ Grace suggested, surprised and grateful for the offer, going over to the kitchen area and returning with a bottle of red wine.
‘Great idea!’ Annabel grabbed a glass and held it out. Once it had been filled, she knelt by the boxes. ‘So, how do you want to go about it?’
‘Well, I’ve been tipping them out one at a time and sorting everything into three piles: keep, throw away, and give to charity.’
‘Right-o,’ Annabel said, grabbing the box closest to her and dumping its contents onto the carpet before Grace could object. ‘Lots of clothes here.’
‘Thanks, Annabel,’ Grace said dryly. ‘I’ve actually been through that one already.’
‘Oh my god, what is this?’ Annabel cried, ignoring her and holding up a long dress printed with large purple, green and orange daisies. ‘Flower power or what! Hang on, I have to try this on!’ She wriggled out of her jumper and jeans and pulled the dress over her head.
‘How do I look?’ she asked, and at Grace’s giggles she rushed out of the room and up the stairs, undoubtedly heading for the bedroom, where there was a full-length mirror. Grace heard the excited exclamations from where she sat, and winced, half-expecting Millie to wake up and counter them with a shriller reply of her own. Annabel’s footsteps came rushing down the stairs again, but there was no other sound to be heard, and Grace silently offered a prayer of thanks.
‘Hilarious!’ Annabel pronounced. ‘Right, you have to put something on from this lot – let’s see, what about this –’ She pulled out a cream blouse with outlandish ruffles, and then delved back into the box until she produced a pair of bright purple corduroy flares. ‘Come on, get them on!’
They weren’t going to get much done, but Annabel’s enthusiasm was infectious. Grace sprang up and put her wine down. Soon she was wearing her own ensemble, and Annabel had found the closest thing to seventies music she could in Grace’s collection – a new-fangled version of ‘Lady Marmalade’. They began trying to remember as many of John Travolta’s Saturday Night Fever moves as they possibly could, and Grace was bent double laughing, when they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
‘I’ll get it,’ Annabel sang, and boogied her way out of the room. ‘Meredith! Claire!’ Grace heard her cry, and she felt her lightheartedness vanish.
‘You two look like you’re having fun,’ Meredith said, coming into the lounge. Annabel was behind her, swinging her hips and clicking her fingers, pulling an amused face at Grace. Claire followed at the back of the group, smiling, yet from Meredith’s expression, Grace felt like a child caught out doing something she shouldn’t. She went over and switched the music off. ‘It’s lovely to see you both. Would you like a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ Meredith replied. ‘We won’t stop if you’re busy.’
‘We came to let you both know about the ball at Freeborough Hall on Christmas Eve,’ Claire explained. ‘It’s a bit of a local event and we thought you might enjoy it.’
‘Sounds great,’ Annabel replied, going across to a countertop to replenish her wine glass, and returning with the bottle in her other hand. She poured more into Grace’s glass as she added, ‘We’d love to.’
‘I don’t think we can actually,’ Grace demurred. ‘Because of Millie …’
‘Didn’t Emma volunteer to babysit for you?’ Annabel demanded.
‘Yes, but …’
‘But nothing, Grace. You need a break now and again. Let’s ask her, and if she’s free then we’d love to come.’
‘Okay then.’ Meredith took hold of Claire’s arm and made to leave. ‘We won’t keep you. Just let us know if you want tickets – I’m on the committee so it won’t be a problem.’ She stopped in the doorway. ‘They look like Rachel’s clothes, you know,’ she said, staring hard at Grace before she left the room. Claire raised her hand affably, then followed her mother.
Annabel saw them to the door, then returned and looked perplexedly at Grace. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘there’s a woman who knows how to kill a mood. And who the hell is Rachel?’
‘Adam’s mum.’ Grace threw herself into one of the armchairs. Now she felt awful about prancing around in a dead woman’s clothes, as though she were dancing on her grave. Maybe she did need Meredith to help her sort through these things.
‘Oh, I see.’ Annabel went across to the sofa and sat down. ‘Well, don’t feel bad. I’m sure Rachel would rather we were dancing in her clothes than they lay festering and moth-bitten in a dusty old attic.’
Grace smiled at her sister and tried to rouse her spirits. She went to put her pyjamas on, and when she returned, Annabel had changed the CD and was back in her own clothes. Together they emptied another box onto the floor.
‘So tell me about Ben,’ Annabel said a little while later, as she sorted through a pile of linen.
Grace kept her eyes down as she replied. ‘I’m not sure I can. I don’t know much about him other than the fact he knows how to knock a wall down. You got more out of him today than I’ve managed to in a week.’
‘He lives alone in the house at the top of the hill?’
‘Yes, I think so.’ However, as she spoke, Grace remembered the woman she’d seen leaving early one morning. She opened her mouth to tell Annabel about the red-head, then closed it again, deciding not to. ‘He’s house-sitting, and he said he’s an architect, but other than that he keeps himself to himself.’ In fact, she thought, he was particularly good at answering her questions without actually telling her anything.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll find out all about him when he takes me out,’ Annabel said confidently.
‘Well, good luck. He’s painfully difficult to talk to.’
Annabel laughed. ‘God, I’m used to that in my line of work.’ She put the last of the linen into another charity box. ‘Can we call it a night now?’
‘Let’s just do this one,’ Grace suggested, and moved to a small box in the corner, pulling out what looked like a photo album. She opened it, and her breath caught painfully in her throat.
It was Grace and Adam’s wedding day. She had looked at their official photos many times, but she’d never seen these before. They were simple snapshots. Adam waiting outside the church. Adam with his arms around his grandparents. Then Adam and Grace at the church after they’d been married. She turned the pages – to see Adam and Grace with his grandparents; Adam and Grace with her parents; with Annabel; with her extended family; with their friends. Adam and Grace …
She had to summon all her willpower to swallow the emotion that began to rise in her throat. She searched their faces for some clue that their love story was destined to end abruptly, that they weren’t as happy as she had imagined – but all she could see was joyful smiles and laughter. That night, as they had gone to sleep in a four-poster bed, Adam had whispered his love in her ear, telling her he’d had the greatest day of his life. And when he’d first held Millie in his arms he’d promised he would do everything possible to protect his family. He’d said it with such gravitas. Too much gravitas? How would she ever know? Could she really live the rest of her life with all this doubt? But what choice had he left her?
She had forgotten about Annabel until she moved closer. Grace leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder and Annabel wrapped an arm around her. ‘I don’t get it …?’ Grace’s voice began to break. ‘Why would he just go …? He couldn’t. It isn’t right, Bel … But I don’t know … What if he –’
‘Enough,’ Annabel insisted, taking the album from her and putting it back in the box, then closing the lid. ‘You’re drunk and emotional, Grace. Here …’ She took Grace’s glass and poured them both another wine.
‘Remind me, how will this help?’ Grace asked, before she put the full glass to her lips.
‘Medicinal purposes,’ Annabel replied assuredly, and took a great gulp of her own drink.
By the time they went to bed they had both drunk far too much. For Grace this normally meant that she would sleep solidly until morning, but tonight her rest was fitful, with blurry visions running into one another: strange shadows on hilltops; indistinct figures walking towards and then away from her; Adam’s face close to her own; an empty bed; a stone bridge; a stream; then finding herself standing alone in a glade of trees, a voice calling her name. Chasing it, only to hear it echoing behind her. Twisting and turning trying to find its source, but never catching up. She woke with a start numerous times, settling down when she heard Annabel’s soothing snores beside her, but each time she fell asleep again her dreams only tormented her more. In the morning she woke up groggy and disorientated, and when she moved to the window, she saw that overnight the landscape had been transformed by a pure white covering of snow.
‘I’ve got a surprise for you!’ Annabel said. She had disappeared briefly mid-morning, but Grace had been too busy with Millie to notice where she’d gone.
‘And what would that be?’ Grace asked, helping Millie with her drink.
‘I’ve just seen Emma next door, and she says she’ll be happy to babysit on Christmas Eve – so we can go to the ball Meredith was on about!’
Grace swung to face Annabel, hand on hip. ‘I can’t believe you did that without asking me first.’
Annabel glared at her. ‘Oh lighten up, Grace. They live NEXT DOOR! Emma’s the most convenient babysitter you’ll ever find. She’s even coming round here so you can put Millie down in her own bed. The most she might do is use a tea bag or eat a packet of crisps. Could you please live with that, and stop being such a wuss?’
But Grace wasn’t going to be talked down. ‘No, Annabel, that’s not the point. Where Millie’s concerned, I make the decisions. I’m going round to apologise, right now.’
She picked up Millie and went outside, stomping down the garden path before heading up next door’s. She rapped hard on the door and waited.
Moments later, a teenage boy answered. His face was so white that if Grace hadn’t heard Emma and Carl mention a son, she would have suspected that this was the resident ghost of next-door’s cottage. His blue eyes and ruby mouth looked strangely artificial against the rest of his flesh, like they had been coloured in – and she was sure his eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner.
‘Is your mum in?’ she asked politely.
He left the door open and skulked off, his shoulders hunched.
Emma came to the door a moment later, tea towel in hand. ‘Grace! Come in!’ she said cheerily. ‘Don’t worry about Jake – he’s going through his Goth phase! And hello little lass.’ She reached out and took Millie from Grace. ‘Now, you,’ she said to Millie, ‘are just in time to sample some of Auntie Emma’s cupcakes – they’re still warm!’ And she carried Millie down the hallway.
Grace followed her through to the kitchen and launched straight into her apology. ‘I gather Annabel asked you about babysitting Millie – I’m sorry, she got a bit ahead of herself, and I hope it didn’t look rude. She spoke to you before consulting me. You’ll surely have other plans on Christmas Eve.’
‘Oh, don’t be daft,’ Emma said. ‘I’m happy to, I told you at the pub. We’re staying home this year so I’ll get everything sorted in the afternoon. Then Carl can stay in with our bairn and I’ll come round a little early so you can tell me where everything is. I’ll be glad to leave this place for a while; truth be told, it’s all moody silences from the lad and bursts of irritation from Carl at the moment. If it’s just me and the baby it’s like a little holiday, so I won’t know what to do with a few hours to myself! I’m quite excited about it!’ She stroked Millie’s hair, and as Millie put her fingers towards Emma’s mouth, she pretended to bite them. Millie let out a joyous squeal, making both women laugh.
Emma went across to a tray of cakes, then looked back at Grace. ‘Is she allowed?’
‘Yes, that’s fine.’
Millie took one eagerly, then Emma turned the kettle on and came and sat down with the little girl on her lap. Millie looked at her treat happily, before biting into it with satisfaction.
‘So, what time do you want me then?’ Emma asked.
Grace recalled Annabel’s excitement, and considered how contented Millie appeared to be with Emma. She reminded herself how long it had been since she’d had a night out, and made her decision. ‘About seven, if you’re sure.’
‘Grace – relax, it’s absolutely fine,’ Emma insisted. ‘Now, you must stay for a cup of tea and tell me what you’ve been up to since I last saw you. I gather you’ve been busy, what with all the banging this week?’
‘Oh no, I hope the noise hasn’t been bothering you …’ Grace said contritely. ‘I’ve had the wall knocked down between the kitchen and the lounge – I’m trying to make it a bit less poky downstairs.’
‘Don’t worry about the noise, it hasn’t been bad,’ Emma reassured her. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve done. I’m sorry I haven’t invited you round sooner – I’ve been so busy with the kids and getting ready for Christmas. I hope you haven’t been lonely?’
Grace shook her head. ‘I’m fine. Annabel’s staying till after Christmas now, and I’ve had a couple of meals at Meredith’s.’
‘Really?’ Emma looked intrigued as she handed Millie back to Grace and went to pour the tea. ‘How did that come about?’
‘She invited me.’
‘Well, I’m amazed. We’ve lived here for five years and we’ve never been invited over once, let alone twice. What did you do to deserve Meredith Blakeney’s hospitality?’
‘I think it might have been because she’s interested in renting the cottage,’ Grace admitted.
‘Is that right?’ Emma put two mugs on the table, along with a carton of milk and a pot of sugar. ‘What would Meredith want with your little cottage when she fancies herself the lady of the manor in that big old house up there?’
Grace didn’t know how to reply, since she was asking herself the same question.
Emma mulled it over, then she sat back. ‘Don’t be bullied by that family, Grace.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Grace asked uneasily as she poured milk into her tea.
‘Oh, I’ve heard a few rumours … they sound like a mixed-up lot.’
‘Really? What have you heard?’
Emma shook her head. ‘Perhaps that’s a bit unfair of me. They’ve been through a hard time lately, what with Ted passing away like he did …’
But Grace was too curious to let it go. ‘Still, is there anything I should be aware of?’
Emma took a sip of her tea. ‘Oh, I don’t have that much to tell. I only know Meredith in passing, but I’ve caught a bit of gossip about her – usually people saying that she interferes with her daughters’ lives too much. She’s caused some mighty spats between her children, so I’m told, and one of her son-in-laws, Dan, seems to dislike her intensely – often bad-mouths her if you come across him in any of the local pubs. Mind you, he’s not exactly a saint – he used to be a policeman but there was a big scandal last year, something to do with him turning a blind eye to a mate dealing drugs. He got kicked out of the force, and apparently it was Meredith who found him another job in Leeds, something to do with security. Just as well since his wife’s expecting a little’un shortly. From what I gather, if Meredith’s daughters have a problem they run straight to their mother and she sorts it out for them. You know that one of them is staying there right now …’
‘Yes,’ Grace said. ‘I’ve met her. Claire – she seems really nice. Says it’s just a stopgap.’
Emma looked surprised, then chuckled. ‘Grace, you probably know more about them than I do. Now, tell me what you’ve got planned for the rest of your cottage …’
Grace began to fill Emma in on the renovations. After a while, Emma noticed that Grace’s mug was empty. ‘Another cuppa?’
Grace checked her watch. ‘I’d better not. I should be getting back. Annabel will be waiting for us.’
Grace began to get up, and Emma went across to the kitchen top, returning with a tupperware box full of cupcakes. ‘Here, take these. I always make far too many.’
Millie snatched the box gleefully before Grace could say anything, and they laughed.
‘Thank you,’ Grace said, following Emma along the hallway. ‘Now … are you sure …’
‘Grace! Go and have some fun. Millie will be fine with me.’
‘Well, I owe you one.’ As Grace started down the path, she glanced to her right, to see next door’s chimney puffing away. Emma stood on the step behind her and followed her gaze.
‘Have you met Jack yet?’
Grace shook her head.
‘You’ll be lucky if you do. We hardly ever see him. His chimney goes almost twenty-four hours but he never switches his lights on. You only come across him when he’s feeding his birds.’
Something clicked in Grace’s mind. ‘Oh – is that where the noise is coming from? I’ve heard a few screeches, it’s pretty unnerving at night.’
‘Thought the spirits were out, did you? No, it’s just the owls next door. Jack’s obsessed with them – people round here call him Feathery Jack. I think he’s got two at the moment, though he’s had up to half a dozen. Not just owls either, he takes everything from kestrels to crows. We only know this because sometimes the birds are out in the front garden when you go past. Carl says he’s meant to have licences for them, but it looks like he’s tending injured ones back to health, so no one’s going to report him.’
‘I haven’t seen him or the birds.’ Grace surveyed the cottage with its smoking chimney. In London her neighbours had included two accountants and an aspiring model. How times had changed.
‘Don’t worry, he’s harmless enough,’ Emma reassured her.
Grace turned and smiled. ‘Thanks again, Emma. I’ll see you soon.’ Then she headed home. So the screeches were from owls that lived two doors away. There had been no need for all the anxiety about unknown noises. She had to stop worrying about everything and loosen up a bit. It was nearly Christmas. She was making progress. There was no reason to feel as apprehensive as she did.
‘What an incredible afternoon,’ Annabel said, coming into the lounge and flinging herself onto a chair. She ran her fingers through her damp hair. ‘It’s snowing,’ she explained as she noticed Grace glaring at her. ‘Ben says it’s meant to get bad after Christmas – we might be stranded,’ she added, sounding absolutely fine about that.
Grace could barely resist the urge to run over and pull her sister’s hair, as she would have done when they were younger. In the past three days, she had barely seen Annabel. While Grace had put on old clothes and begun sorting through the cupboards and drawers, listening to endless crappy Christmas music blaring from the radio and wishing away the time, Annabel had been out every day. First of all she’d gone to Leeds to ‘finish my Christmas shopping’, returning with copious Harvey Nichols bags in the boot of her car. Next, Ben had fulfilled his promise and taken her roving over the moors; then yesterday evening Annabel had announced that they were going out again. Grace was still feeling slightly disgruntled that neither of them had thought to invite her and Millie.
Annabel began to waffle on about their visit to Whitby, saying she was still full of their famous fish and chips, and describing a severed hand that Ben had shown her in the local museum. ‘It’s called the Hand of Glory,’ she said, ‘though it’s more gory than glory. It’s an actual hand that’s been pickled to preserve it – and there are all sorts of legends around it to do with paralysing people or sending them to sleep. It’s pretty grim.’
Grace decided never to go near that museum if she could help it, while Annabel continued talking. ‘This place is fascinating, you know. All over the moors there are these tall stone crosses with different names, like Fat Betty and Old Ralph. I thought they were gravestones at first, but apparently there are different reasons for them – memorials, religious crosses and way markers – in many cases I don’t think it’s even known for certain. And we went to this little pub in the middle of nowhere with a “ghost chair” in the corner – it’s cursed, supposedly, so that anyone who sits in it will die soon afterwards.’
‘For God’s sake …’ Grace said, not wanting to hear any more.
‘I know, it’s brilliant!’ Annabel cried, misreading Grace’s mood completely. ‘And then, to top everything off, it began to snow when we were coming home, and it’s taken us ages to get back. The snow is incredible in the dark, you can’t see anything, it’s like jumping into the white noise on the TV. I don’t even know how Ben managed to stay on the road, it’s utterly disorientating. He was telling me about one of the locals who got caught in a blizzard and tried to walk home, and got lost. He collapsed and died in the snow, and when they found him he was only a few metres from his front door. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t just seen what it’s like with my own eyes.’ She leapt up. ‘We’re really cut off, aren’t we,’ she said, with a visible shiver. ‘Have we got everything we need?’
Grace went over to the window and peered outside. The porch light cast a short dome of illumination over the garden, which was white with the snow that fell thickly. Beyond that, there was nothing to see except blackness. She pictured Millie upstairs. What had she brought her to?
A flash of movement caught her eye. Something was out there. She squinted, looking harder, but now she couldn’t see anything. Perhaps the ceaseless fall of the snow was playing tricks on her vision.
But then a figure came into view just beyond the low garden wall. A man wearing a padded jacket and gloves, his head down, a thick scarf around his neck. He pushed at the gate a few times as though the latch was stuck, but finally freed it. As he hurried down the path, he lifted his head, causing Grace to cry out in amazement.
She rushed into the hallway and flung open the door. ‘James! What the hell are you doing here?’ She threw herself into his embrace, feeling absolutely safe as he wrapped his strong arms around her.
‘What a welcome!’ James stepped back, his face glowing.
Grace heard Annabel behind her. ‘Well, well, well … look what the cat dragged in.’ When she looked around, Annabel was smiling.
‘Happy Christmas, Grace!’ James said.
‘Did you know about this?’ Grace demanded, grinning at Annabel.
‘She invited me,’ James confirmed, as Grace looked from one to the other.
‘I don’t believe it.’ Grace hugged James again. While she kept telling herself that things would work out, with James here she felt more confident about being right.
Grace and James had been best mates since university, and beyond, until James had headed off to Switzerland to work in a bank. His departure had been hasty. She vividly recalled the night James had introduced her to Adam in a bar as a friend of a friend. The way he’d watched them as they’d hit it off. Now she could see his face dropping. Now she could see the tension in his arm as he repeatedly lifted his pint to his mouth. Back then, she had completely missed it – right up until the time, a year later, that she and Adam had held their engagement party and James had got horribly drunk, stormed out and thrown up on the pavement. That night, he had told her that he loved her, and that he had been waiting patiently in the background for Grace to figure out that she loved him too.
It was as though she had never known her best friend. She realised he’d never had a girlfriend that she could remember, only a few one-night stands. Why hadn’t he said something much, much earlier? she admonished him. He’d been too scared of rejection, he’d admitted. Instead he’d hoped to see something in her face one day that meant she had discovered her own feelings for him. After that, he’d buried his face in his hands.
Once James was in Switzerland they had never spoken about it again. Neither of them wanted to risk saying or doing anything that might finally sever their bond.
Nevertheless, it was all history as far as Grace was concerned. James had come to France in the aftermath of Adam’s disappearance. He had held her tightly while she sobbed herself to sleep. Taken her out to try and distract her. And shown her a picture of his new Swiss girlfriend – ‘taken from a magazine,’ Annabel suggested slyly behind his back. However, later on they had visited Grace, and James had looked very proud as he’d put his arm around Natasha and introduced them.
‘I’m surprised you made it through the snow,’ Annabel was saying to James, as Grace tuned back in to the conversation.
‘You’re telling me!’ James said as he took off his coat and shoes. ‘Where the hell is this, Grace? The drive here has been crazy – I’ve hardly been able to see more than ten metres. I’ve practically been hallucinating – I was half-expecting to come across Santa’s cottage and find him tending his reindeers and filling up his sleigh …’
They all went back through to the lounge. After they had plied James with wine and he’d warmed up a bit, he explained, ‘I called your mum and dad, as I actually fancied a beautiful French Christmas, and that’s when they told me you’d locked yourself away in the wilderness up here with nothing but a toddler and a list of things to do for company – oh, and a minx of a sister …’ he added, looking across at Annabel.
Annabel pretended to punch his arm. ‘Bet they didn’t tell you she’s got a hottie helping her with the cottage.’
‘Which is probably the only reason Annabel’s actually staying here,’ Grace put in, ‘since I have been working my butt off, and Annabel is actually a one-woman tour group, distracting my employee and roaming the moors with him under the pretext of researching an article that I’ve seen no sign of her writing.’
‘Now, now, ladies,’ James said, settling back on the sofa with his wine, ‘I can see I arrived just in time to stop you two from pulling each other’s hair out.’
‘How’s Natasha?’ Annabel asked.
James’s face fell. ‘It’s over.’ Resignation propped up his smile as he added, ‘Drifted apart.’
Grace moved towards him, but he held a hand up. ‘No sympathy needed. I knew she wasn’t “the one”.’ He leaned back. ‘So, what’s the plan for Christmas then? Aside from Millie getting her Santa stash’ – his smile was genuine now – ‘I can’t wait to see her.’ He reached for Grace’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
Unaccountably, Grace felt herself begin to well up. ‘You’ll be amazed. She’s changed so much.’
‘She tries to bite you now if you annoy her, so watch out,’ Annabel added.
‘Really?’ James looked at Grace in amusement.
‘It’s a recent phase, sadly. Anyway, how long are you planning to stay?’
‘Just a few days. My boss wants me back straight after New Year.’
‘That’s great. But you do know I haven’t got a spare room?’ Grace glanced worriedly about the place. ‘We’re a bit cramped here.’
James patted the sofa. ‘Seems comfy enough. Unless this is your domain, Bel?’
Grace snorted. ‘Not likely. She’s practically pushed me out of my own bed, the amount of space she takes up.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Annabel said. ‘Who’s for more wine?’ She got up and plucked the bottle from the side, refilling their glasses without waiting for a response. ‘Now you’re here, perhaps we can get you into tomorrow’s excitement,’ she told James.
‘And what might that be?’
‘A ball!’ Annabel squeaked with delight.
‘Where?’ James queried, the corner of his mouth turning up. ‘The local cow shed? And with who? There’s no one here, guys, just miles of empty space. Is it just us and a herd of sheep ready to party?’
‘There’s a local hall,’ Annabel replied knowingly. Grace sat back and listened, sipping her drink, well aware that she was unlikely to get a word in. ‘A very posh hall, by all accounts. And the local riffraff have a Christmas Eve ball – it’s a tradition that started a decade ago, and everyone loved it so much that they’ve done it every year since. A rich aristocrat owns the place, and lets them use it. They raise quite a bit for charity.’
‘How long have you lived here, Annabel?’ James said, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at Grace. ‘You really are in the right profession, aren’t you. Is there anything you don’t know after you’ve been somewhere for five minutes?’
Grace laughed, while Annabel feigned indignance. ‘Well, it’s a ticketed event, so I don’t know if we’ll get you in.’
‘Ignore her,’ Grace chuckled. ‘We’ll get you a ticket. I’ll call Meredith in the morning.’
‘But I haven’t got a suit, let alone a tux …’ James said. ‘Presuming I can come, of course,’ he added sarcastically to Annabel.
‘There’s probably a shop in the next town.’ Annabel looked thoughtful. ‘We’ll check it out tomorrow when we go and get the supplies for Christmas dinner.’
‘What would I do without you, Bel?’ James replied, raising an eyebrow at Grace, before he settled back onto the sofa and closed his eyes.
Grace smiled as she watched him, thinking that it had made her Christmas simply to have him here.
As Grace made her way downstairs with Millie the next morning, she expected to find James still asleep. However, he was up and fully dressed, seated at the small dining table with a coffee, looking over some papers.
‘Hi,’ he said on seeing her. And then, ‘Hello Millie. Wow, you’ve grown so much!’
Millie whipped around and hid her face in her mother’s neck.
‘She’s always a bit shy,’ Grace explained apologetically.
‘Understood. Not to worry,’ James replied. ‘Actually, I’ve got a present for her.’ He went across and pulled a large brown teddy out of his bag, jiggling it around, trying to coax Millie to play, but she gripped on to Grace even more tightly. Grace took the teddy and attempted to give it to Millie, but the little girl snatched it and threw it on the floor.
Grace was embarrassed. ‘She takes time to respond to new people and new toys,’ she reassured James, noticing that he was crestfallen despite his efforts to hide it. ‘Ask Annabel, she’s had the same treatment.’ Yet she couldn’t help but remember Millie holding her arms out to Ben, and kneeling by his side.
James sat down again, and Grace strapped her daughter into her high chair, then went to put Millie’s morning milk into the microwave. Once it was ready she shook the drink before giving it to the child, who used it as a security barrier from which she could inspect James further.
