Page 26 of A Christmas Celebration
‘I can’t find a pen,’ he tutted. ‘I was sure there was one here somewhere.’
I had wondered why he had felt his way across the room and the fact that he couldn’t see the pen which was right in front of him confirmed that, even though he was wearing glasses, he couldn’t see particularly well.
‘Not to worry,’ I said, to save his blushes. ‘I’ll write it down and pop it through your letterbox next time I’m passing.’
‘There’s really no need,’ he huffed. ‘I won’t need it.’
‘Well, in that case,’ I said, ‘I won’t keep you any longer. Would you like me to put a match to your fire before I go?’
‘Of course not,’ he snapped. ‘I can light my own fire and I can see to my own shopping too. I don’t need a do-gooder coming round here poking their nose in.’
That was me well and truly told.
‘Has someone sent you?’ he then demanded, sounding distraught rather than gruff.
‘No, Mr Price,’ I said, quickly opening the door. ‘No one has sent me. I really did just want to say sorry for disturbing you the other night.’
‘Well, you’ve done that,’ he said, ‘so you can go now and you won’t need to come back.’
He hadn’t noticed I’d dropped the scarf I had been wearing on the armchair closest to the door, so I would have to come back, at least one more time.
Chapter 9
That night, and in spite of the fact that further thoughts about Brodie could now be justified as I tried to puzzle out the connection between him and Angus, it was Albert Price and the upsetting state of his cottage which filled my head. Whether it was concern for the elderly gent or a pure coincidence, I had no idea, but my sleep was once again filled with the nightmares I had naively started to think were finally tailing off.
I saw myself, back in Jordan and making the same mistake. I was purposefully striding out of the camp alone and unaided, which was strictly not allowed, feeling determined to liberate the much-needed medical supplies from the broken-down truck just beyond the gate.
At the time I’d done it, I had still been assimilating the outcome of a recent meeting which had broken the news that aid worker numbers were going to be drastically cut as a result of the loss of corporate funding and sponsorship and therefore I clearly wasn’t thinking straight. Not that that in any way justified my flouting of the rules.
Rules which were in place for everyone’s protection, whether they were a team player or, like me since losing Chadia, the lone wolf type. No matter what your working preference, there were certain protocols everyone had to follow without question, for the safety of all.
Next came the piercing crack of rifle fire, my screams for help and the eventual rescue which had unnecessarily put so many other lives at risk.
When I broke free of the terror, I found myself safely cocooned in the Rose Room and as I lay, damp with sweat and my breath tight in my chest, I felt relieved that I had come to before the nightmare had taken the darker turn it usually favoured. The one which played out the very worst that could have happened as opposed to what actually had. That had to be progress, didn’t it?
I lay and pondered the fact that I had walked out of that camp on the misguided assumption that I was following my intuition and I wondered if the fact that the emotion had stirred within me again when I met Albert Price was the reason behind my dramatically interrupted sleep. I did still feel duty bound to help him, but I wouldn’t do anything more than mention him to Kathleen. I would pass his name and address on and that would be that.
It was another chilly start on Sunday and Dorothy had decided we all needed hearty breakfasts to prepare us for the hard work to come in the run up to Christmas.
‘It’s not something I usually do on a Sunday,’ she told me. ‘But it will stand us all in good stead for what’s to come.’
While Mick set the table, I passed around the plates she was filling with eggs, bacon and everything else associated with a full English. I bet Albert wasn’t starting his day with anything like the amount of food we were about to tuck into, but then I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him, was I?
‘Paige,’ came Dorothy’s voice. ‘I said this one is for Molly.’
‘Right,’ I said, setting it down in the place where she usually sat.
‘She reckons these new veggie sausages don’t taste too bad,’ Dorothy told me, but she didn’t sound convinced.
‘They look all right,’ said Mick.
‘Where are she and Archie?’ Dorothy tutted, just as the back door banged.
‘Sorry we’re late,’ said Archie, bounding in. ‘We overslept.’
Molly was a few paces behind him, looking as calm and serene as always. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle her. I envied her that. Her eyes sought me out and, knowing the last thing I needed was her all-seeing scrutiny, I turned away and bumped straight into Catherine.
‘Are you all right, Paige?’ she immediately asked. ‘You look a little tired.’
