Page 51 of Salvaging Christmas

Rudy stood there looking pale and worried and, despite his own apprehension, Trevor’s heart gave a tug.

“Look, if you want me to leave, I can go back to the big house—” began Rudy.

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Trevor adamantly, grabbing Rudy’s hand and moving forward again. “First of all, you have no heating back there. Secondly, I’m going to keep you in my sights and if he so much as lays a finger on you again, he’ll have to go through me. I know that doesn’t sound like much of a threat but I have my resources. And last of all, you’re not leaving me to peel the rest of the vegetables by myself—”

Trevor stopped when he saw Frank and Johnny standing frozen to the spot by the kitchen doorway.

“Ingram’s gay?” asked Johnny, his eyes like golf balls.

“Shit,” said Trevor, a hand briefly covering his mouth. “You heard that?”

“You can’t breathe a word,” said Rudy, fear shining from his eyes. “He’s not out to anyone, and he believes his career would be over if people knew.”

“You don’t need to worry about us, Rudy. That’s not our style. We’re not in the habit of outing people. But did I hear that right, did he really push you around?” said Johnny, his eyes narrowing as Rudy nodded. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Rudy. Are you fecking serious?”

“Yes,” said Trevor, before Rudy could answer. “You heard that part right.”

“Water under the bridge,” said Rudy. “Look, he’s my problem to deal with and he’ll be gone in a day or two. Back to the big house, and even then, only for a few days. After that, you’ll never lay eyes on him again. Well, not in person.”

“Rudy’s right,” said Frank, uncharacteristically calm, eyeing Rudy in a cold, measured way before turning to Johnny. “None of our business.”

Trevor had often seen Frank become enraged when Johnny talked about the domestic abuse cases he dealt with at the shelter. Trevor put Frank’s anger down to his personal experience growing up. Perhaps he had made an exception for one of his rugby heroes, or maybe he had learned to manage his temper better while travelling the world.

“But we’re all here for you, Rudy,” said Trevor, putting an arm around his shoulders, mimicking Rudy’s gesture. “Aren’t we, guys?”

“Dead right, we are,” said Johnny, while Frank nodded.

“In which case,” said Rudy, “can I ask you to continue being friendly and welcoming at dinner? As though you know nothing? You’ve had to put up with enough drama already, and I don’t want to be the cause of more. As I said, they’ll stay another day, then I’ll drive them back to the big house. Can you do that for me?”

“Friendly and welcoming?” said Frank, holding his palms out to either side in a gesture of peace. “Rudy, they’re our middle names, aren’t they, Johnny?”

* * * *

After the heavy meals of the past few days, Mrs M had prepared a simple seafood pie and steamed vegetables for dinner that evening. When Helen admitted to being a vegetarian, Mary suggested they sit together and share her butternut squash and spinach filo pie. Although Helen accepted the food, she insisted on sitting with Cheryl. Trevor could not resist grinning smugly at Cheryl.

Unlike the night before, wine and beers made an appearance—perhaps in honour of their celebrity guests—and everyone loosened up considerably. Frank beat everyone to the spare seat next to Damian and enthusiastically engaged him in conversation. Perfect because between him and Mary, they knew pretty much everything there was to know about the Bulls’ current season.

Next to Trevor, after a few furtive glances at the beginning of the meal, Rudy began to relax and appeared to stop fretting over Ingram’s presence. But all the while, Trevor kept listening in on their conversation, even when Rudy placed his warm hand in Trevor’s and squeezed.

At one point, at Frank’s request, Johnny went to their bedroom to get the hoodie Rudy had given Frank because he wanted Damian to sign the front using a felt pen. At Mary’s bidding, he also happily agreed to drop into her and Karl’s room to bring back her Bulls team calendar. Trevor smiled at the interaction, wondered how Johnny might have responded on their first night together and marvelled at the difference a few days could make.

“Are you as good as this in the flesh?” asked Frank, opening to the semi-naked photograph of Ingram. Most others around the table held their own conversations, but Trevor kept an eye on them and noticed Frank flirting shamelessly. He cringed on hearing the suggestive remark, but the man in question grinned broadly, and leant back in his seat, appearing to enjoy the attention.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” murmured Ingram.

“Definitely,” said Frank, the mischievous smile fixed in place. “So what do you think of the lodge?”

“Nice, very cosy. I’m downstairs—no view, but at least it’s warm,” said Ingram, looking around. “Felt a bit lost back in that old ruin. Bloody draughty, too.”

“We got great views here. Our balcony overlooks the whole of the loch. Stunning panorama.”

“Sounds great.”

“Want to come up and have a look?”

Ingram faltered, looking awkwardly between Frank and Johnny.

“Uh, I’m not sure—”

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