Page 73 of The Black Trilogy

“Better than hopping. Want me to get you a top hat and a pair of tap-dancing shoes to go with it?”

She glared at me, but this time she was smiling.

Luke got Tia settled on the sofa in the den while I carried her stuff upstairs. Six suitcases, three trips. How long did she plan on staying?

The following morning found me in the kitchen, eating breakfast with the newest addition to the household. I’d got pretty good at making egg white omelettes without too many burnt bits, but I couldn’t help wishing I had the bowl of Lucky Charms Tia was snarfing down with her good arm. In the background, the TV played one advert after another for all things festive. The Christmas season now started in September and ran until Easter took over on the first of January.

“What are you and my brother doing at Christmas?” Tia asked.

“Luke’s made dinner reservations for the pair of us at a restaurant in town. Have you got plans with your mother, or do you want me to see if they’ve got space for one more?”

“Mother has plans, but I’m not part of them. I never am. She said Mrs. Squires would make me something nice for dinner, but she won’t. She hates me.”

“I doubt she hates you.”

“For Christmas dinner last year, she gave me chicken nuggets and microwave chips.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it doesn’t sound like she went all out.”

Tia dropped her spoon into the bowl. “She’s rubbish at cooking, she doesn’t clean properly, and she gets in everyone’s business. She’s been our housekeeper since Dad was alive, and I’m sure she’s only around because she has too much dirt on Mother to be fired.”

“So you want to come with us to the restaurant, then?”

“Yes, please.”

I sent Luke a text asking him to change the booking, and a few minutes later, he called me back.

“The restaurant’s full. The manager said there’s no way they can accommodate an extra person.”

“Did you tell them we wouldn’t need a bigger table? We can all squash onto ours.”

“I tried that, but no go.”

“Oh dear. Tia’s dreading Christmas Day with Mrs. Squires.”

“I can understand that—Mrs. Squires makes Ilse Koch look like she was just a bit misunderstood.”

“If she’s that bad, we can’t leave Tia on her own. Is there another restaurant we could try?”

“I doubt we’d get a table at this short notice. How about we stay home?”

How about we dish up cardboard with a side of charcoal? Because that was how bad my version of a roast dinner would be.

“Nora’s off, and you realise my culinary skills are limited?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not fussy. Could you pick up some pre-prepared meals and bung them in the oven? And maybe something for dessert?”

Okay, that sounded doable. “I can probably manage that.”

Oh, what I would have given to be able to call Bradley at that moment. He’d have rustled up a four-course dinner and a couple of waiters to serve it without batting an eyelid. And knowing Bradley, probably a band and some dancing girls as well.

My mind wandered back to the year he’d attempted to recreate the “Twelve days of Christmas” out of the well-known carol. The five gold rings were all right, but let me tell you, swans are not as peaceful and serene as they look.

“Bradley, what were you thinking?” I’d asked.

“I was thinking they’d stay in the swimming pool where I put them.”

Mack wandered past, looking at her phone. “According to Wikipedia, swans pair for life. That’s so romantic.”

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