Page 47 of A Perfect Devon Christmas
‘She worked out for herself that I am innocent. When she saw me return Victor’s wallet, she asked herself if that was something a drug smuggler would do. I told her my suspicions about FF, that something dodgy is going on and that I was framed in order to silence me.’
‘And she knows about your sister?’
His eyes widened, ‘No. She doesn’t know about my past or my sister’s, and she mustn’t. You are the only person who knows. Promise me you won’t tell her. Don’t talk to her about any of this. She still talks to Robby; she no longer thinks I’m involved with drugs but I’m not sure I’ve convinced her something is wrong at FF.’
‘What reason have you given her for being allowed into the UK?’
He winced. ‘She assumed like you did that it’s because I’m a Christian.’
‘But you must tell Fred, you can trust him.’
He thought for a moment, chewing his lip. ‘All right. But promise me you won’t speak to Helen. You can tell Trish and others about me being here legally and how I got here, but don’t talk to Helen, she’s too close to Robby.’
Ivy swallowed. ‘Don’t worry. I never break a confidence. But why don’t you tell Robby you’ve forged a new life here in Brambleton, and you don’t want to go back to Kabul?’
‘But I haven’t, have I? He’s seen to that.’
‘So, what are you going to do?’ she asked.
‘Idon’t know. Move on again.’
Ivy felt her throat thicken. She didn’t want to lose him. She exhaled slowly. ‘This must be linked to what you started to uncover in Kabul.’
‘Yes, I’d worked that out. But I never uncovered the truth.’
‘Then we must find out together, so you can settle properly, get a job.’ She wanted to add, ‘in Devon’, and she fervently hoped hewould choose to stay close, but the most important thing was to enable him to live a decent life.
Omar shook his head. ‘It’s not that simple.’
Ivy hesitated, then shared some of her own struggles from her time as a vicar – the moment she’d realized she was being sidelined, that once she’d raised the issue of the Archdeacon’s excessive expense claims, important meetings started happening without her. She wished she had fought back. ‘Youmustfight,’ she told him firmly. ‘You don’t have to do it alone.’
He looked at her, something altering in his expression. ‘I feel safe with you,’ he admitted. ‘And Fred. You both make me feel human again.’
Ivy smiled, touched. Then, in an unexpected turn, Omar tilted his head and smiled. ‘Fred ... I’ve seen the way you look at him. Have you ever asked him if he feels the same?’
The words settled over her like snowfall, soft but chilling her to her core. How could she ever risk asking Fred if he felt the same? If she did, and she was wrong, she could ruin everything between them. She treasured Fred as a good friend, a reliable, comfortable presence. She couldn’t bear it if she lost their friendship in the desire for something deeper.
Still, this wasn’t the moment to unravel that. Omar’s problem remained and she couldn’t solve it alone. She glanced at him, more at ease now, the stiffness in his shoulders easing with every sip of wine. Jez nosed at her hand, and she got up, popping the puppy into Omar’s lap. Watching Omar scratch behind Jezreel’s ears, absent-mindedly content for the first time that evening, Ivy realized that to maintain that carefree approach, Omar must prove his innocence. She would support him, and in the morning, she would recruit another helper.
Fifteen
When Ivy stepped into Fred’s cottage the next morning, the warmth hit her like a promise. The kind of warmth that said,you’re safe here. You’ve come to the right place.The air smelled faintly of lemon oil, and the soft creak of old floorboards beneath her shoes felt like the house itself was waking up to greet her. Fred led her into the sitting room, past walls lined with hand-painted chalkboard signs – dozens of them – each one an echo of the teacher he’d once been. Quotes from poets and scientists, notes about the village’s long-forgotten history, all carefully written in a looping, precise hand. She found herself smiling.He was the kind of man who was always there for you,she thought.For her. For what’s right.And today, he’d show up for Omar. He had to. She needed someone unflappable, someone respected. Someone like Fred.
Omar sat in the sitting room, slumped in an armchair and wearing a dazed expression. Good, thought Ivy, that must mean he’s told Fred his story.
She stepped into the kitchen, brushing a hand over the nearest sign:
In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity(Einstein)
A good omen, she thought.
Fred served milky coffees and biscuits, but an underlying tension marred the atmosphere, filling the room like fog. Ivy gripped her mug tightly, her fingers trembling slightly as shestared at Fred, waiting for him to speak. The silence stretched on, awkward and dense. She shifted her focus to Omar, gazing blankly out of the window, his eyes distant and unfocused, making the room feel cold.
After a few moments, Ivy spoke.
‘Right,’ she began, in her best ‘jolly them along’ voice, ‘I’m guessing Omar has told you his story.’
‘I did.’
