Page 5 of All We Want for Christmas
‘What?’ she asked, torn between despair and hope.
‘Don’t jump down my throat before you’ve heard it, but can you get the chalice repaired – without anyone knowing, I mean?’
‘I – well I suppose it could be – maybe.’
‘You must know someone, with all your experience and contacts,’ Flynn said. ‘And won’t it have to be restored anyway if you tell the Penhaligons? They’ll need to claim on the insurance, surely?’
Either despite or because of her comment about the rarity of experts in the field, one name did immediately spring to mind. A name that caused a tiny spark of hope to flicker into life.
‘Actually … I do know someone who might be able to help. A friend from uni. I’ve worked with her a few times before, but I’d still have to tell Henry and Fiona.’
Flynn raised his eyebrows. ‘Would you really? I mean, do they look closely at the chalice that often?’
‘No. Only me and occasionally the tour guides usually handle it. It was out for a special display today.’
‘Do you think your restorer friend could be trusted?’
‘To lie, you mean?’ Lara asked, feeling nauseous at the prospect of such a charade.
‘I mean to cover for you and keep a secret.’
‘I suppose so … she probably would. I’ve put a lot of work her way and we’ve known each other a long time.’
‘Then ask her.’
‘I could, but it would be so wrong. I’d feel so bad about it. Lying and …’
‘And what?’ Flynn asked.
‘And – nothing. I need to think about it.’
‘I wouldn’t take too long if I were you. Seize your chance,’ he said.
He was right. Annoyingly right. Lara stared at the chalice. Even though the nick was tiny, it seemed to leap out at her like a giant crevasse – a gaping gorge of her stupidity and guilt. Why had she reacted so dramatically to Flynn’s voice and appearance in the first place?
Flynn squeezed her shoulder briefly. ‘Speak to your conservator friend and let me know how much the repair bill will be. We’ll go halves.’
‘Thanks. I do appreciate it,’ Lara said, touched by his offer yet determined to take her destiny into her own hands. ‘However, it was me that dropped it and I’ll take the consequences.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Flynn opened the door to his staff cottage with a heavy sigh. He’d left Lara after she’d replaced the chalice in the safe and he still needed to decompress and change, ready for meeting the Penhaligons for welcome drinks in their private rooms in the castle.
After hanging his leather jacket in the vestibule, he decided a strong coffee was required.
His arrival at Ravendale couldn’t have been more disastrous.
He’d hoped Lara would be pleased to see him. He’dhopedshe’d been expecting him. He’d hoped his return to Ravendale wouldn’t have turned into a horror show.
He’d brought his own coffee with him, but his hosts – now his employers – had thoughtfully provided a pint of milk, which was waiting in the fridge.
On closer inspection, he decided the one-bedroom Groom’s Cottage must be a holiday let that had had been turned over for his use. It had that air of comfort yet minimalism and was too well maintained and smart for people to have lived in it full time. That suited him. He didn’t like a lot of clutter and travelled light, both in life as well as on the bike.
It was pitch black outside at four-thirty. He thought of the modern apartment he’d left behind in Newquay overlooking Fistral Beach. It still wouldn’t be dark there, due to the combination of the southern latitude, ocean and big skies all maximising the winter daylight.
Until a month ago, he’d been technical manager at a family-run Cornish theme park set in the grounds of an old estate. He’d enjoyed the job, even though he’d probably been in it too long. Sadly, times had changed, visitor numbers had dwindled, and the family had decided to retire and sell up. Flynn had taken it as an opportunity, as a signal that he should change his life and travel.
Yet here he was, plunging into the thick of a busy and unfamiliar role and already off on the wrong foot.
