Page 33 of The Christmas Retreat
‘I’ll just pop my head in for a minute,’ I agreed. ‘Goodnight, everyone.’
‘I’ll be up shortly myself,’ Evie said, which somehow sounded slightly more like a threat than a general announcement.
10
Creeping Nemesis
I followed Rhys out to the hall, now feeling as if things seemed to have taken on the quality of a strange dream, where objects presented themselves suddenly and clearly and then swam away again.
Rhys, who had stopped and turned to face me as soon as the door had closed behind us, did not look in a much better state.
He ran a hand through his already dishevelled black hair. ‘It’s amazing that you should be here, Ginny! I’ve often thought about you – I could hardly help it, what with you being one of Cariad’s favourite authors! But I never thought I’d see you again.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘it was a surprise to me to find you here. Evie booked me in and, although I suppose you may be on the website, I didn’t have time to look at that. I was too busy packing up my cottage.’
‘I hope if youhadknown, it wouldn’t have put you off,’ he said, looking at me uncertainly from his deep-set amber eyes. ‘Ginny, I feel I owe you an apology for never getting in touch with you after our first meeting … but perhaps we had betterpostpone it, because at the moment I feel as if my body and brain are in two different time zones, neither of them the current one.’
He smiled at me ruefully, but I didn’t return it.
‘There’s nothing to explain. I’d pretty much forgotten you until we bumped into each other earlier,’ I lied. ‘Shall we go up? I’m really beyond coherent conversation too.’
He hesitated, then said, ‘Of course,’ before heading for the stairs.
‘Which room has Nerys put you in?’
‘The Marc Chagall room.’
‘In the lonely west wing, with the other guests, but we go the other way,’ he said, turning left as we reached the landing.
‘This is the family side, and I have a sort of mini flat at the end of it, where I can retire if the Muse takes me, while still being near Cariad.’
He stopped. ‘And here we are. This was once the nursery and until recently my old nanny, who looked after Cariad, had the room off it. But she’s retired to St Melangell now.’
It was a large room, and Cariad was tucked up in bed reading a book – one of mine in my Hedgehoppers series.
She looked up as we entered and said accusingly, ‘You’ve been ages.’
‘About three-quarters of an hour at the most,’ Rhys said. ‘Ginny’s tired from her journey, so she’s just looked in to say goodnight on her way to bed.’
‘But I wanted to show her all my books,’ Cariad complained.
‘You seem to have quite a library, but perhaps I could see them another day, in the light and when I’m not so exhausted,’ I suggested.
‘I’m reading this one of yours again,’ she said, holding it up.‘I’m never sure if the Hedgehoppers are elves or something like that. They can’t be fairies, because they haven’t got wings.’
‘You can have this fascinating literary discussion tomorrow,’ her father said firmly.
‘I suppose so,’ she conceded, then closed the book and snuggled down in bed. ‘Goodnight then, Ginny. I’m glad you’ve come.’
I thought I heard Rhys murmur, ‘So am I!’ but I wasn’t sure.
I smiled at her and said goodnight, then headed for my own room, closing the door thankfully behind me when I got there.
It had been quite a day.
*
I had just got into bed when, with resignation but no surprise, I saw the door open and Evie slip in.
