He shook his head, smiling. ‘Crazy,’ he replied. ‘Although right now it does seem as if the entire world is stuck on the motorway. There’s been a spillage of some sort, did you know? We could be stuck here hours.’
‘Which is why…I’ve brought these. Mince pies, would you like one?’ She lifted the tin she was carrying to show him,not that easy given all that was under her arm. ‘I’ve also got sandwiches, some tea and a bag of crisps…Sorry, I came prepared.’
He leaned across to open the door. ‘So I see. Here, let me take them.’
She passed him the tin first before unloading the rest of her packages one by one until she was able to slide into the seat unhindered. She held out her arms to take them back again.
‘You’re not a serial killer, are you?’ she asked. ‘I just need to check before I get settled.’
‘Would I tell you if I was?’ he replied, the arch in his eyebrows registering his amusement.
‘Fair point,’ she said. ‘I’m not one either, just in case you were wondering.’ She held out a gloved hand. ‘I’m Peg, by the way.’
‘Henry,’ he replied. ‘It’s nice to meet you. And this is really very kind of you.’
‘I was worried it was an accident,’ replied Peg. ‘But a spillage doesn’t sound so bad, does it? Do you know what it was?’
Henry shook his head. ‘Could be anything. It also depends what caused the spillage in the first place. Whether another vehicle was involved.’
‘Oh yes…I hadn’t thought of that. For some reason I’m envisaging tins of paint, I don’t know why. I’ve got visions of cars dripping in the stuff.’
‘I hope it’s a nice colour,’ said Henry. ‘Not just magnolia. Or grey. Whatisthe fascination with that at the moment?’
‘Farrow & Ball, Breakfast Room Green, nice and calming,’ she said.
They smiled at one another. Peg pursed her lips.
‘I’m not sure why I’m doing this,’ she said. ‘I know we’ve both agreed we’re not serial killers but it’s probably not very sensible. Despite it being Christmas.’
‘Does that make a difference?’ he asked.
‘It should,’ she replied. ‘Nothing bad should ever happen at Christmas.’ But Peg knew only too well that wasn’t the case.
‘Nothing bad should ever happen at all, but alas…’
Peg dropped her head to hide her smile. She didn’t know anyone who used the wordalas. She liked it, though. Alas and alack…one of those old expressions which you scarcely heard any more. And both words meaning virtually the same thing, like saying I’m very very sorry, but with a little more charm.
‘Yes, sadly, that’s not the world we live in, is it?’
He shook his head. ‘More’s the pity. So how come you did venture forth then?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘In the spirit of honesty I should probably tell you that one, I was bored, and two, I thought you might want something to eat, and possibly drink…’
‘On account of me not being very organised?’
‘Was I right?’
‘I’m starving. But I’ve been told not to spoil my appetite. My daughter-in-law is cooking dinner for me tonight.’
‘Ah…’ said Peg knowingly. ‘The daughter-in-law…Does she have a name?’
‘Sofia. With an “f” instead of a “ph” – that’s very important. It’s from the Greek and means wisdom, but…’ The corners of his lips twitched.
Peg laughed. ‘Was that irony I detected?’
Henry slid her a glance. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’ He eyed the tin of mince pies. ‘May I?’
‘Please do. I’ve got some sandwiches as well. Cheese and beetroot. They taste nice but don’t travel all that well. They’ve gone a bit pink, sorry.’ Peg began to open the tinfoil-wrapped packet. ‘Which would you rather?’
