Page 99 of Fe
“They’re good, aren’t they?” Fen said. “Mum bulks them out by adding lots of mushrooms. She’s a good cook. I used to watch Bake Off with her and try to persuade her to apply but she wouldn’t. Her mince pies are fabulous.”
“You’re definitely sorted over Christmas?” Ripley asked.
“I’ll leave on Monday morning and see you on Boxing Day. Okay?”
Ripley nodded. He wished he could saydon’t gobut he was going to do what he’d done last year and get mind-numbingly drunk and watch Netflix. “I need to go to my mother’s at some point this week. The furniture that’s being sold is due to be taken away on Thursday morning, the rest of their belongings in the afternoon. She and Petra will stay in a hotel for the night and the removals company will arrive at the rental property on Friday. What they don’t yet need goes into storage. We can look at the books after Christmas.”
“All right.”
“I’m supposed to make sure they’ve not forgotten anything.”
“Rings under skirting boards?”
“Good point.”
“Have there been any offers for the house?”
“A couple but not high enough. It’s not the best of times to put a house on the market. Things should pick up in January. I have a ski trip booked in February. Do you want to come?”
Fen paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Yes. Please. That would be… lovely. I’d bounce with excitement if I could. My passport’s at the post office ready for collection.”
“Good. It’s a catered chalet for eleven—twelve of us with you. I’ll make sure they know and sort out a plane ticket.”
“Thank you.”
Even though Fen couldn’t ski, there were plenty of other things to do. Or he could read a book and enjoy the view. The chalet was one Ripley and his friends went to every year. Alejandro didn’t like skiing and though Ripley had tried to persuade him to go for the apres-ski, he’d not succeeded.
“Will you give me a list of what I need to buy for surviving cold weather?” Fen asked. “Maybe I could have a go at skiing on one of those converted bikes. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be strong enough to use proper skis. I don’t like to think of myself as disabled or differently-abled or completely crap when it comes to sports, so I’d like to try. I could toboggan too. Or use a snowmobile. Or throw a snowball. There’s lots I can do.” He beamed.
“Do you ever say no to anything?”
Ripley was half-joking, but Fen shrugged. “To be honest, I try not to. I like to do new things. It might be the only chance I get so unless I’m scared shitless or there’s a really good reason why I should say no… I mean, I’m never going to eat a snake and I’m not going to piss on you. Well, not unless you were on fire. Then I would. Assuming you hadn’t annoyed me.”
Fen, where have you been all my life?
Ripley spent the evening sitting on the couch reading case notes for the trial he was partway through. Fen sat at the other end of the couch, his back against the arm, knees up, reading one of Ripley’s Scandi thrillers. When Fen sucked in a breath, Ripley glanced at him.
“Exciting?”
Fen nodded. “I feel a bit guilty enjoying reading about violence while you’re dealing with the real thing.”
“I’m not dealing with cutting people up and making snow sculptures out of them.”
“I haven’t got to that bit yet.”
Ripley raised his eyebrows. “It was on the first page.”
“I bet you remember the plot of every single book. I sometimes get halfway through a story before I register I’ve read it before.” Fen dropped his knees and slid his toes under Ripley’s thighs. “My toes are cold. All that blubber will warm them up.”
“Careful.”
“Oops. I mean those strong muscular thighs will generously share their heat.”
“Right.”
“Do you need any help with the case?”
“What sort of help are you thinking of?”
