Page 38 of Will You Stay Another Day?
‘My mouth’s watering!’ she said. ‘But no desserts?’
Dylan plugged in the toastie maker. ‘No. Mum loves cooking savoury foods and said she could never compete with Dad’s favourites – scones, sweet pasties and Cornish saffron cake. You’ve not eaten proper Italian until you’ve been to a family dinner. We visit my grandparents when we can. Nonna and Nonno always put on an unbeatable spread, with cheese and fruit, an antipasto platter, biscotti for coffee – all of that’s without even eating the main course, washed down with Chianti or Pinot Grigio. Even now, they are approaching eighty, and they take so much pride in feeding us all. I wish I lived nearer to them. But I’ll be flying out to Italy this Christmas. There’ll be lots of fish, of course, pasta, Nonna’s panettone…’ He gave a contented sigh. ‘And a glass of Limoncello always reminds me of the good times, sitting out in their garden.’
The sandwiches took minutes to make and melted in the mouth.
‘Apparently the large buffet experiences in Vegas are amazing,’ said Lili.
Dylan took a swig of his tea. ‘Have you thought any more about my offer?’
Lili finished the last bite and wiped her lips with a paper napkin. ‘How would you feel if… I tagged along? I’ve not decided 100 per cent. I may not commit fully until the last minute. As the booking was for two adjoining rooms, we’d each have our privacy. We wouldn’t have to spend all our time together either and?—’
Dylan beamed. ‘It sounds great, Lili. Let me know how much I owe you.’
She shook her head.
‘I insist!’
‘Nuh-uh. The main thing is that the booking gets used.’
‘But—’
Lili raised one eyebrow.
‘Oh God. It’s like my nonna’s here in the kitchen,’ he said. ‘That’s the look I get if I steal a slice of salami before dinner.’ He looked at his watch and jumped up, put their plates in the sink and drank back his tea. ‘This discussion is not over! Either way, Vegas, here I come! Harry won’t believe it when I message him later. But for now – sorry to rush you, but let’s look through these boxes before my teams get back and I’m needed.’
They made their way over to the warehouse. Dylan pointed to a stack of boxes that were newly in and yet to be sorted. A man in overalls walked past and nodded. Dylan steered Lili away from him.
‘Sad story,’ said Dylan. ‘The owner of all this stuff was only sixty and got killed in a car accident. He’d never settled down with a partner, seeing the world with the Navy for many years. Once back in England, he became estranged from his sister. She passed several years ago. His only living relative was a niece who simply wanted the property cleared, lock, stock and barrel. Even though he’d left everything to her, she didn’t want a penny and was giving the proceeds of the sale to charity. She didn’t keep any personal items. There are letters and photo albums that will just end up in the bin. Makes you wonder what sort of fallout they had, and it makes you grateful for family that you get on with.’ His words petered out and a vacant expression momentarily crossed his face. ‘Anyway, me being brutal now, he was the right sort of age to have had a VCR player. I looked in the top of one box and saw a pile of old videos.’
For half an hour they searched. Dylan kept looking at his watch and the road. The man in overalls came back and began to approach but Dylan rushed over and kept him at a distance. Clearly Dylan didn’t want staff to stop working. She was about to give up when her fingers ran over a smooth rectangular object at the bottom of one of the boxes. She dragged it out from underneath books, military autobiographies mainly.
‘Bingo!’ Lili said and examined it. ‘Although I feel uneasy passing it on, as a second-hand electrical appliance should be PAT tested.’
‘I’ve got a mate who reconditions and tests old electrical items before putting them up on eBay. I might be able to twist his arm to take a look at it for you promptly,’ he said.
‘Oh, thank you. That would be brilliant. How much will it cost?’
Dylan crouched on the floor next to her and swept a lock of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. ‘Are you for real, Lili? You’re insisting on giving me a fancy hotel room in Vegas and expect me to charge you for a knackered old video player?’
Her throat went dry. His touch took her back to that night.
‘But this is business,’ she managed to say.
He got to his feet and hauled her up. ‘Talking of which, I need to get back to the office.’ He looked up and frowned as a lorry trundled down the road and pulled up. It had a bobbing plastic reindeer on the dashboard. The driver jumped out and came over, a lanky man with a dark brown crew cut, in navy overalls. He clapped Dylan on the back. ‘I’ve left the lads at the property. Bigger job than we expected in terms of emptying the loft. Good thing it’s just down the road in Whitchurch. I’ve come to get more boxes.’ He looked expectantly at Lili and then at Dylan.
‘Lili – this is Jags, our new manager.’ Was there a nervous edge to Dylan’s voice? No. She must have imagined it.
Jags gave a small bow and held out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you. Are you the reason Dylan’s been so chipper lately?’
Dylan gave a small smile. ‘That’s down to all the mithai you keep bringing in, Jags.’
Jags rolled his eyes. ‘That’s Indian sweets to you and me, Lili. Dylan’s trying to outdo my Hindi.’
‘Jags is something of a sweet maker. And you should try his honey cake.’ The phone rang in the office. Dylan didn’t move.
‘Want me to get that, boss?’ asked Jags.
Dylan looked at his watch. ‘No, you’d better get those boxes.’ Reluctantly, he headed to the office.
