Page 46 of Tis the Season
‘He’s not bowing out, is he?’
‘Not quite. But he is going to be late.’
‘Brave man,’ Erin said. ‘After being caught out and about with another woman you’d think he’d be trying to impress.’
I shook my head at his audacity. ‘Exactly.’
CHAPTER24
Settledown was small and compact, so it didn’t take Erin and me long to reach the edge of town where Joyce lived. Talking to Erin might not have solved my problems, but it had lifted my mood and as we turned one last corner to walk down Joyce’s street, I felt a lot more relaxed.
‘I’ve always liked these properties,’ I said, admiring the row of immaculate cottages.
‘In all my time in real estate,’ Erin said. ‘I don’t remember seeing any of these advertised on the open market. It’s all word of mouth. As soon as there’s a whiff of one coming up for sale, it’s snapped up. That’s how sought-after they are.’
Each with their own long front garden, every house embodied the Christmas spirit. Some were festooned in brightly lit decorations that had to render them visible from space. Blow up Santas, acrylic snowmen and numerous red-nosed Rudolphs contrasted with more aesthetically stylish giant-antlered reindeer in woven rattan. Holly wreaths were pinned to almost all their doors and bauble-clad trees sat in windows.
Joyce’s cottage, with its solar lanterns, festive hanging baskets and boxwood globes fitted in perfectly.
‘I wonder what delights are on tonight’s menu,’ Erin said, as we reached Joyce’s garden gate.
After what we’d heard, I dreaded to think. ‘I guess we’re about to find out.’
We made our way to the cottage door and knocked.
‘Come on in,’ Richard called out.
Not knowing what to expect, Erin and I looked to each other in anticipation. We took a moment to prepare ourselves and nodding to signal our readiness, made our entrance.
‘Jesus.’ Erin immediately gripped the door frame.
We should have known no amount of mental priming could prepare us. The attack on our nostrils was instant.
I grimaced at the smell. Perhaps Gideon had had the right idea in working late, and I felt tempted to ring him and ask if he needed an assistant.
As Erin and I took off our hats and coats to hang on the bottom of the banister, Richard appeared in the hall from the kitchen. Failing to notice our discomfort, he had a tea towel slung over his shoulder and a wooden spoon in his hand. ‘Good timing,’ he said. ‘Dinner’s almost ready.’
Struggling to ignore the unfortunate aroma, Erin and I forced ourselves to smile.
I tried to hold my breath and speak at the same time. ‘Can’t wait,’ I said, my voice croaking. ‘It’s good to see you looking so well after your foraging mishap.’
‘Don’t worry. There are no horse chestnuts on tonight’s menu.’ Richard puffed out his chest. ‘We’re on spaghetti bolognaise.’
Appreciating the clarification, my nose tried and failed to uncover any hint of garlic and basil. ‘Yummy,’ I replied.
Richard delighted in what wasn’t really a compliment and seeing his sheer joy, I understood why Joyce hadn’t the heart to be honest with him.
‘I wouldn’t call it any old spaghetti bolognaise, mind,’ Richard continued.
‘Me neither,’ Erin said.
‘Gordon Ramsey and Delia Smith have nothing on me.’
I heard myself wince. This from a man with no training, no experience, and no palate.
‘You got that right,’ Erin said.
‘The trick is to introduce an array of secret ingredients. Not just one or two.’
