Page 2 of The Best of Times
When he’d first arrived at the library, he’d spent a fun week going through the archives. When he’d laid eyes on this artefact, Aron had been determined to use it someway. It was far too precious to be kept under lock and key for all eternity.
Calvin raised an eyebrow. “Dickens? I might have known.”
Aron shrugged. “He kind of istheauthor of Christmas. Who can resist Scrooge’s tale at this time of year?”
The desk glowed under the nearby lights of the tree. As a sentimental touch, Aron had written on parchmentMarley was dead: to begin with.The famous opening line toA Christmas Carol.
Calvin squinted at it. “Impressive, I suppose. Can we arrange a label or something? People might not get it.”
Aron shuddered.
“Is it Christmassy enough?” Theo added.
“I did intend on dressing it with some editions of the book from all over the world. Maybe a sprig of holly,” Aron replied.
Calvin nodded, still rubbing his chin. Aron had soon learnt that was a good sign. If Calvin was ready to dismiss something, he would scratch his head. He might be wonderful at his job but he would make a lousy poker player.
“Not bad, Wimpole,” Calvin said at last. Aron inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. “The trustees will love it. Theo, arrange drinks to unveil it for Thursday night. A singer will be required. All the usual carols and whatnot. Wimpole, dust off your Christmas sweater. Get some of those mince pie things you brought last year.”
As the token English member of staff, Aron had introduced a few delicacies to the staff Christmas party the year before. Mince pies had gone down a storm.
Aron smiled weakly. “I’ll be in London by then.”
Calvin frowned. “Ah yes. Is that still going ahead?”
“My grandmother’s wedding? Yes, it is.”
It had been a week since he’d dropped the bombshell that he needed to return home at short notice. Calvin didn’t approve of too much time off in one go. In fact, his usual rule was a week every quarter.
Aron hadn’t minded at first. As a stranger in New York, he’d thrown himself into the new job. Now, two years on, he was excited to return to the familiarity of London. Even if only for a little while.
Besides, he wouldn’t miss Granny’s big day for anything. When he’d heard that she and the Professor were getting married so suddenly, he’d dreaded speaking to Calvin. He’d been right to.
Calvin had taken it as a personal insult that Aron would want to be anywhere other than New York for the holiday season. Even so, Aron had dug his heels in.
“I still don’t understand why you need three weeks,” Calvin grumbled. “It’s only a day. Two at the most.”
“She is fairly high maintenance.”
That was putting it mildly. Aron’s grandmother was a force of nature. She’d declared that his help would be required in getting everything over the line. He had no intention of refusing. Not after all she had done for him in his life.
“Let’s not go over all that again,” Calvin said, waving him away. “Okay. I want you to make the changes to this exhibit before you go. Happy Christmas and all that. Theo, what do we have next?”
Aron bristled at being dismissed so easily. He also knew when to keep his mouth shut. He’d achieved his aims. If Calvin needed to save face by treating him like this, who was Aron to complain?
Theo glanced at his phone. “Coffee and cake with Betty Brody in ten minutes.”
“I need a piss before that. She talks for hours.”
Calvin stalked off to the nearest restroom. The visitors crowding the reception area parted to make way for him. Although Calvin was a problematic boss to say the least, Aron had a grudging respect for him. Especially the way he commanded every room he found himself in.
When he disappeared into the bathroom, Aron exhaled loudly.
“I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for going home.”
“He was furious, you know,” Theo said.
“Yes. I got that impression. It’s a bit unfair to have a go at me for taking my annual leave in one go. He’ll have me at his beck and call for the rest of the year. Anyone would think he’d be pleased about that.”
