Page 61 of The Best of Times
“I will be by my grandmother’s side, of course,” Aron said. “As well as supervising Anais. She’s got a lot of phone calls to make.”
He had no intention of leaving Anais to make any creative decision. This was now a family affair. Plus, he didn’t trust her not to paint the houses of Queens Crescent peach.
“Tell you what, Granny.”
“What’s that, dear?”
“You should probably get dressed before they arrive.”
Granny clutched her robe. “Oh you’re right. I’d clean forgotten. Paul, I’m so sorry. Whatever must you think of me? I kept your father here overnight and I’m still in my nightwear.”
Paul reddened across the kitchen table. He made a great performance of sipping coffee from his noticeably empty cup. Granny shot Aron a gleeful beam.
“You’re a terrible woman, Beatrice Wimpole,” the Professor said as he came into the room.
She swept out of the room with an air that suggested she didn’t really care.
Not thirty seconds later, the Professor edged toward the door.
“I think I left my cufflinks upstairs.”
He dashed after his fiancée.
“Oh fuck,” Paul said. “If they’re doing it while we’re in the house, I am out of here. This is not what I signed up for.”
“So what?” Aron replied, enjoying Paul’s discomfort. “We’ve done it in both houses, as I recall.”
“Not with their knowledge.”
Aron collapsed into giggles. “You’re punishing them for being honest?”
“Yes!”
This time they both laughed until their sides hurt. Partially because it was funny and partially to drown out any noises they didn’t want to hear.
It had gone nine at night and Aron’s eyes were drooping. Once most of the tasks had been completed, they had decamped to the Professor’s drawing room for a change of scene. Granny and Aron were putting sweets in linen bags. Paul and the Professor were tying said bags with ribbon. They were an effective production line.
“These will be lovely on the chairs,” Aron said.
“It was a wonderful idea of yours, dear,” Granny replied. “I have to say, I’m flagging. There are only a few more left. Would you all mind if I said my goodnights?”
They probably still about twenty to do but Aron wanted this experience to be magical for her. Not endless work.
“Of course not, Granny. Are you okay?”
“Just tired. It’s been quite a day.”
Aron helped her to her feet. She might be a powerhouse, but she was also in her late seventies.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, no,” she said.
Even so, he guided her to the door. At least she only had a few doors to go until home.
“Goodnight, Mrs W,” Paul called out.
“Mrs H soon,” Aron said.
