Page 85 of A Christmas Celebration
‘Was there something else?’ I asked when he didn’t move.
‘Your friend,’ he said, ‘the chap with the studio.’
‘I know who you’re talking about,’ I snapped.
‘Have you seen him?’
I looked at my feet.
‘I’ve been thinking about him,’ he carried on, ‘about how I would have felt if I’d been in his shoes and I feel terrible. I was so rude and I genuinely didn’t mean to be. I’ve been thinking about going back…’
‘There’s no need,’ I quickly cut in. ‘I have seen him and he’s been fine about it.’
‘He has?’
‘He has.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ Brodie said, smiling.
‘So, there’s no reason for you to go back,’ I further insisted. ‘In fact, I know he’d prefer it if you didn’t.’
‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘The last thing I want to do is further jeopardize you being able to help him.’
‘I appreciate that,’ I said, thinking it would be so much easier to permanently switch off my feelings for him if he was consistently blunt and bad mannered. This thoughtful Brodie was still frustratingly appealing in spite of my knowledge about the questionable work he had once been involved in. ‘I’d better get on.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance we could still go out for that drink, is there?’ he asked, sounding hopeful.
‘There is,’ I said, because I did still need to talk to him, although it would have to happen somewhere more private than in The Mermaid in town and certainly not on the Wynthorpe drive with Albert in the vicinity. ‘I’ll call you at the distillery.’
‘All right,’ he said, ‘but I’ll see you tomorrow, anyway.’
‘You will?’ I frowned.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘for the greenery gathering.’
I had no idea what that was. I knew there was a Christmas tree auction and bake sale happening on Saturday in Wynbridge and that it was too early for the solsticecelebration, but a greenery gathering did sound a bit like a Pagan rite.
‘Apparently, we’re gathering holly and ivy to sell at the auction on Saturday,’ he elaborated, ‘and mistletoe, of course. Jack has told me that the greenery is collected in the woods here and then sold in town. I thought you’d know that, what with it being a Wynthorpe tradition?’
‘It must be a new one,’ I said, feeling embarrassed that he knew more than me. ‘Something that has started since I last visited. So how come you’re involved?’ I then truculently asked.
‘Jack helped last year and with fewer people here than usual, Angus has invited me to join in too. I was planning to tell him that I’ll definitely be here,’ he said, looking over my shoulder at the hall.
‘You could have called about that,’ I pointed out.
‘I needed to see him about something else, too.’
The return from the jackpot my godfather was expecting him to hit, no doubt.
‘Well, I’m sorry you can’t, but I’ll happily pass on a message.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘it’s okay. Thanks, though. I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.’
It was cold standing outside, but I didn’t go in until I had watched him drive away and was certain he was off the premises.
‘Would you like some mulled wine, Paige?’ Angus offered during dinner, as he poured more into Albert’s glass.
‘No, thanks,’ I declined. ‘I’ll be driving later, so I’ll pass.’
