Page 17 of Saving Mr. Bell

“I don’t normally do Christmas.”

“Neither do I,” I answered honestly. “That’s why I thought it might be fun.”

“Maybe.”

At least it wasn’t a straight hell no. I’d take it. And it would give us a chance to get to know each other again while we were doing it.

Rudolf shifted slightly. “I don’t have clothes. Or deodorant. Or shaving stuff. Or a toothbrush. Or—”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? That’s all you have to say? Did none of this cross your mind?”

“I figured you could share my stuff.”

“Your underwear?”

“I don’t mind. Or you could go commando if you’re not comfortable with that.” There was a heat in my cheeks that had nothing to do with the soup I’d just eaten. “As for the rest, you’re leaner than me, but we’re about the same height, so my clothes should fit you. Help yourself to whatever you want. You’re sleeping in there, anyway.”

“Am I supposed to share your toothbrush?”

I collected Rudolf’s tray from his lap. “I have a spare.”

“Hallelujah,” he said with mock cheer. “I have nothing to my name except a phone without a SIM card, and clothes completely unsuited to the environment I find myself in, which are probably ruined now. Oh, and I’ll be spending my days playing bridge and rummy. But at least I’ll own a toothbrush. Who knew I could fall so far in twenty-four hours?”

The gleam in his eye said he wasn’t being wholly serious. It reminded me that the old Rudolf had possessed a great sense of humor. Even if it often veered toward sarcasm. “You’ll survive.”

“Maybe they’ll send the SAS to rescue me from the rescue.”

I took the bowls over to the sink. “I’m not sure the SAS are good with snow.”

“I thought the SAS were good with everything.”

“Well, I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for them.” We lapsed into silence while I washed the dishes. It didn’t last long before Rudolf broke it. “When does the first ghost get here, anyway?”

I turned to face him. “What?”

He made a show out of rearranging his blankets. “I figure you’re taking on the role of Jacob Marley, so that means I’ll get a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past, Present, and Future.”

I laughed. “What have you done to be casting yourself in the role of Scrooge?”

Rudolf winked. “I can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you.”

Now that he’d dropped the antagonism, it was easy to remember why I’d liked him so much years ago. Did looking forward to spending time with him, and being pleased I had him all to myself make me a terrible person? If so, I was going to hell, and I didn’t need a ghost to tell me that.

Chapter Seven

Rudolf

I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’d embraced my incarceration, but like Arlo had pointed out, there was no escaping it until the weather cleared. So it was rage against it or make the best out of a bad situation. And all raging against it had achieved the previous day, was to bring me closer to wolves than I’d ever dreamed possible, and to give me a sneak preview of what hypothermia might feel like.

Besides, I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t had to field calls from Jade and a million other people, most of them either wanting something from me, or keen to voice their disapproval over something I’d done, was about to do, or hadn’t done. There were far too many people in my life with opinions who weren’t afraid to air their views.

Where would they think I’d gone? I’d told Jade just before Arlo had grabbed my phone that I was in a car. The nightclub must have had cameras. Would they check CCTV and see me getting into Arlo’s car? Would they look for it? Or would they assume I was just up to my usual tricks and had gone home with someone? That we were screwing each other’s brains out, and I’d re-emerge in a couple of day’s time. I wasn’t sure which of those scenarios would be preferable, but either way, eventually, they’d realize something was up. The question was whether they’d care.

“Rudolf?”

I took one last look at myself in the mirror. I’d helped myself to a pair of Arlo’s sweatpants and a T-shirt. Both were a little large on me, but nothing baggier than someone might choose to wear, anyway. I’d scraped my hair back off my face and I’d left my feet bare, the cabin warm and cozy enough for socks not to be required.

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