Page 57 of Meet Me Under the Mistletoe
Nory could understand it.
“But wait, we’re missing our eighth! We need an eighth.”
Technically they didn’t need an eighth at all; croquet was usually played with teams of two, four, or six, but they had always played as an eight. Tristan’s absence left a hole in everything they’d done as a group.
“Worry not, Nory,” said Jeremy, adding another splash of Advocaat to her glass. “Charles is on it.”
There were sounds of twigs snapping and rustling undergrowth, and Charles emerged looking very pleased with himself, followed by a slightly bewildered Isaac. Nory’s stomach flipped. Isaac saw her and smiled.
“Good man, Isaac,” said Guy, standing to survey his handiwork. “Thanks for stepping up.”
“I second that,” Jeremy called as he hastily concocted a snowball for Isaac and handed him the glass.
Isaac nodded and came to stand by Nory.
“Old Bear Grylls here sleeps in the nude.” Charles smirked, motioning toward Isaac, who shifted uncomfortably under theweight of six pairs of eyes suddenly turned his way. Nory felt a frisson of excitement zip through her at the idea. “I had to rummage around and find something suitably pajama-y for him to wear.”
Nory looked down and saw he was wearing tartan fleecy trousers tucked into his Wellingtons.
“I’m sorry about this,” said Nory quietly as she led him a little way from the others.
“What?” Isaac asked.
“Dragging you into our old traditions.”
“I don’t mind. To be honest, it’s a bit of a dream come true.”
Nory laughed. “How so?”
“Well...” Isaac shifted, scratching his head as though embarrassed. “My old bedroom was in the attic, and I could just see this field from it. You can’t see it in the summer, but in the winter, when the trees are bare, there’s a pretty good view. Anyway, I heard you guys out here one night and looked out and...” He waved an arm gesturing to the croquet court.
“You watched us playing Snowball Croquet?”
Isaac nodded sheepishly. “It’s not as creepy as it sounds. I guess I was sort of fascinated.”
“You should have come and joined us.”
“Yeah, right!”
Nory suddenly felt bad. She knew the kind of reception he would have got back then.
“No, I suppose we wouldn’t have welcomed you in,” Nory said guiltily. “I’m sorry about that. We didn’t think we were being arseholes at the time, but that’s not really a defense.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “We were arseholes too. But we certainly wouldn’t have been seen dead drinkingsnowballs,” he added, clinking his glass to hers and taking a drink.
“I suppose you were all drinking tequila and riding around on motorbikes, like rebels without causes.”
“Something like that.” Isaac smiled. “Watching your lives was like climbing inside a book. Those kinds of things didn’t happen in real life. Not in my life anyway.”
“Isaac, youliterallylived in a castle garden. You weren’t exactly watching us from your inner-city tower-block window.”
Isaac laughed softly. “Touché.” He took another sip of his drink. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to know...”
“Yes?”
“Whydidyou play croquet in the snow while drinking snowballs under a full moon?”
Nory felt a pang of something, not sharp like it used to be, more a lament, which sang a cavernous sorrow through her insides.
