Page 81 of All We Want for Christmas
‘Morning, Dad,’ said Flynn.
‘Hello. Sorry. I was putting the turkey in. It almost didn’t fit in the oven and we’ll still be eating the damn thing at Easter.’
Flynn smiled as they started to chatter and ask him questions that were easy to answer, yet which only delayed the inevitable.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Yes, the fells are covered in snow. It does look very Christmassy …’ Flynn took a deep breath. ‘Thanks for the vouchers. I opened them this morning. And for the coffee machine. You’ve spoiled me. I’ll bring yours when I see you … yes, I—’
The conversation went on. He smiled and joked, while feeling he was about to burst with the tension of keeping his secret.
Suddenly, there was a loud screeching from somewhere in his parents’ house and his mother said, ‘That’s the smoke alarm. Steve, please don’t tell me you left the grill on. Is that burning bacon I can smell?’
‘Jesus. Yes! I have to go!’ His father jumped up.
‘No!’ Flynn heard himself shout above the shrieking of the alarm. ‘Don’t go. I have something to tell you!’
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Lara was tucking serviettes into wine glasses when Flynn walked into the Castle Café. He wore black jeans and a red jumper with ‘Ho Ho Ho’ on it and made a beeline for her.
‘Hello. Happy Christmas. Can I help?’
She handed him the packet of serviettes, thinking that he looked good enough to eat. ‘Happy Christmas. Make those look pretty?’
He grimaced. ‘Can I do something easier?’
She smiled despite the tension in her body. ‘Not unless you want to peel potatoes with Mrs Danvers. She’s very particular about how they’re prepared.’
‘Mrs Danvers?’ Flynn’s brow furrowed in confusion.
Lara smirked. ‘Jazz and I call Rebecca Mrs Danvers. Because she rules the castle with a rod of iron and can be a bit scary.’
‘Er … sorry …’ Flynn was nonplussed.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Lara said, handing him another wad of serviettes. All the light banter was their way of dancing around each other, trying to defuse the tension.
‘I think I’ll pass on Mrs Danvers. I’ll do my best to be artistic instead.’
‘Good decision. To be honest, everything seems undercontrol in the kitchen and I’m not going to interfere with Mrs D – Rebecca – in charge.’
‘Hmm.’ Flynn folded a serviette, frowned and re-folded it. ‘Fluffing hell.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Nothing,’ he said and stood back. ‘You look lovely.’
Lara was in her crimson velvet dress and a tinsel headband. ‘Thanks,’ she said, and nodded at his chest, where the ‘Ho Ho Ho’ was stretched across his pecs. ‘Nice jumper.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I thought I ought to enter the festive spirit. And I don’t want to get a reputation as a party pooper.’
‘Why ever would anyone think that?’
‘Because I’ve been cracking the whip since I got here. This is my one chance to show I’m a nice, harmless, normal human being.’
‘I don’t think you’ll ever achieve that.’ She took the crumpled serviette from his hand, folded it and popped it into a glass. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Yes, please. No alcohol obviously, because I’m riding later. Though I’d like a large whisky, to be honest. I just told my parents about Molly and Esme.’
‘Wow,’ Lara said. ‘How did they take it?’
