Page 32 of Cooking Up a Christmas Storm
‘I’m going to go and make sure she’s all right,’ Pavel told them.
His mother looked up. ‘Who?’
‘Gemma. She ran out a bit suddenly.’
‘She did,’ Anna confirmed. ‘I wondered if it was her bowels.’
‘She won’t want anyone coming after her if it was her bowels.’
‘I don’t think…’ The women were back to poring over Gemma’s notebook. He left them to it.
Gemma Bryant wasn’t in the courtyard. She was staying, Pavel remembered, in the Dower House. She’d probably have headed back there, and his mother was right – it was entirely possible that she’d rather be on her own, but she’d been upset. He’d felt it when she’d spun out during the drive over on that very first day. Pavel couldn’t put his finger on why, but he really didn’t like seeing Gemma upset. There were no lights on at the Dower House. He knocked once, and then twice, but there was no answer and no sign of movement inside. He carried on up the hill instead.
Gemma was sitting on her heels at the top of the cliff, fingers twisting into the grass, staring out across the loch towards Raasay and Skye. For a second he thought he might be intruding and wondered about turning back, but he’d set out to check if she was all right. And the need to make sure pulled at him. ‘Gemma,’ he called softly.
She didn’t turn.
‘Gemma!’ He raised his voice slightly. No response. He took a step closer. ‘Gemma!’
Finally she jolted alert and turned towards him. ‘Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realise…’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t hear you.’
‘Are you OK?’
She pulled herself up to her feet, wiping the knees of her trousers with her palms. ‘Yes. Absolutely fine. I just needed…’
‘It’s OK. They can be a bit overwhelming if you’re not used to them.’ He grinned. ‘Or if you are.’
‘It’s not them.’ Gemma was still staring out across the sea. ‘I get a bit…’ She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘A bit what?’ If he knew what it was, maybe he could help.
‘Nothing.’ She nodded towards the view before them. ‘It’s beautiful here.’
‘It’s my favourite place.’
‘I can see why. I’d forgotten how much better I always feel by the sea. I grew up on the coast.’
‘I thought you were from Richmond?’
Of course she was. ‘Yeah. My grandparents were on the coast. I spent a lot of time there.’ The best lies started from the truth. Her grandparents had lived on the coast. In the same house as her and her parents. So Jodie had, indeed, spent a lot of time there. ‘Near Hastings. I don’t go back much now.’
‘Are they still…’ He winced slightly. ‘I mean, are your grandparents still with us?’
‘My nan’s in a home. My grandpa died a while ago.’ That was true.
Pavel took a step towards her and turned to look out at the view. ‘My granddad died a few years back. My dad wasn’t around when I was little so Granddad was more like a dad. I miss him.’
It was easier to talk like this, both staring out to sea, not looking directly at each other. ‘I miss mine too. He was fun.’ She knew that was true, but it was hard now to grab hold of a specific memory. The images that ran through her head were jumbled. She could remember the house full of people and noise and animals. She could remember walking on the pebbled beach with her granddad and him pointing out the waders and the seabirds, and he never got cross when Jodie got excited and shouted too loud and made the birds scatter. ‘He was kind when I found things hard.’ What was she saying? Gemma wouldn’t be the type to stand on clifftops and get all melancholy staring out to sea. Gemma was calm and sensible. Gemma wouldn’t drag all the attention on to herself. ‘I’m sorry about your granddad,’ she offered.
‘Thanks. He was a hard act to follow.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that he did a lot for people.’
‘Like you.’ She’d only been here five minutes but it was already crystal clear that Pavel was the guy the village came to if they needed something sorted out.
‘No.’ Pavel frowned. ‘I mean I try, but…’
