Page 51 of Love ad Lib
‘Arthur, Dervla,’ Libby said loudly.
Everyone stopped talking.
She smiled. ‘It has been a long drive, and I would dearly love to freshen up. Might I do that before we meet the rest of the family?’
‘Yes! Yes, of course, darling.’ Dervla took her hand. ‘But please, you must call me Mammy. I don’t think anyone calls me Dervla except for Arthur’s mother and the vicar.’
‘And excuse us jabbering on,’ added Arthur. ‘It’s just so wonderful to have Henry back and to meet you.’
They led Libby through the front door into a hallway big enough to contain the whole of India’s destroyed flat. It was panelled in dark wood up to the high ceiling, and an ornate staircase started on the far right hand side and looped up to the first floor. Libby wanted to stop and gape, but Henry strode ahead up the stairs with their bags. Arthur glanced at Dervla, winked and gestured with his head towards him.
‘Someone’s keen to get to the bedchamber,’ he whispered loudly.
Henry stiffened but didn’t slow his pace. Libby caught him up and followed him along corridors until they came to an old wooden door. His shoulders relaxed as he touched the handle.
‘Dad, Mammy, thank you. We’ll come and find you in a bit.’
‘Oh no!’ Dervla cried. ‘We want to show you your room.’
He tensed. ‘Not necessary, we’ll be fine.’
‘Nonsense, son,’ Arthur replied. ‘We’ve got a surprise for you both!’
‘You haven’t removed the lock again, have you?’
His father waved his fingers as if to dismiss the concern. ‘This is a family home, not a bloody hotel. No locks are necessary. If you want privacy, you know the drill.’
Henry bowed his head.
‘Sock on the door handle,’ Arthur said out of the corner of his mouth to Libby. ‘Tea or coffee in the morning?’
‘Er, tea?’
‘Dad! No!’
Huh?
Arthur raised his hands. ‘Okay, okay.’
Libby glanced at Henry and raised her eyebrows in question. He gave a tiny shake of his head.
‘Okay, you two lovebirds,’ said Dervla. ‘In you go.’
Henry put their bags down and opened the door for her.
‘You aren’t going to carry her over the threshold?’ Arthur asked.
‘I, er, wasn’t planning to.’
‘My god! What’s wrong with you, boy?’
‘I am a bit heavy,’ Libby said, hoping to deflect his father’s attention.
Arthur looked her up and down, his forehead furrowing. ‘Rot! You’re a slip of a thing.’
Henry was looking longingly at the open door, as if sanctuary was only a small step away.
Libby tentatively touched his arm. ‘I don’t mind if you carry me in. Only if you want to, of course.’
