‘So, all ready for the big move?’ Tristan asked, idly sipping his drink and looking away as if the answer didn’t interest him in the slightest.
‘Ready as we’ll ever be,’ I said dismissively, wanting at all costs to steer clear of restarting the topic of moving. ‘So, you said work has been crazy?’
‘Bloody nightmare. Getting rid of all these DEI hires has taken the best part of the year. Think we’re through the bulk of it now, though, and we can get on with some actual work.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Miles’s jaw twitching.
‘Where are the twins?’ I asked quickly.
Tristan didn’t have time to answer before Jeannie was tapping her glass with a spoon.
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to her. She stood at the head of the long dining table, her crimson dress shimmering in the candlelight.
‘Everyone, if I could have your attention, please,’ Jeannie announced, her voice carrying across the room as the chatter died down. ‘Thank you, family, for all coming to our Christmas murder-mystery dinner. Before we sit down to eat, I have a few things I want to say.’
A public announcement– this wasn’t the norm. My stomach clenched. What could this be about? I glanced at Miles, but his face betrayed nothing.
Jeannie continued, ‘As you all know, it’s been four years since we lost our beloved Eugene. And while his presence is sorely missed, I know he is here, looking down upon us all.’
Miles’s father looked up at the portrait and raised his glass. As awful as Miles’s family were to be around at this time of year, it was nothing compared to how Christmas had been when Eugene was alive. His death had seemed to ease something in Jeannie and George– to the detriment of the rest of us, because now they seemed to want us around even more. Or rather, they wanted to meddlein our lives more.
Jeannie paused for effect, her eyes sweeping the room. ‘And this might very well be our last Weiss Christmas,’ she said, emotion making her voice crack.
Oh God, was she ill? Cancer? I wouldn’t put it past her to announce it in the most dramatic way possible.
‘My Miles,’ she said, holding her hand out towards him. ‘He and his family are leaving us.’ Miles shifted from one foot to the other as all eyes turned to him.
‘Just going to Australia, Mum. Not Mars,’ he joked. ‘And you’re all welcome to visit anytime.’
But please don’t.
‘Yes… well,’ Jeannie said flatly, ‘next Christmas will look very different, I’m sure.’ Her expression was that of someone who’d just sucked on a lemon. ‘I wanted to ensure we were all together, this one last time.’
Tristan glanced at Mimi and rolled his eyes.
‘I did want usallhere, to celebrate,’ she said for emphasis, ‘but I wasn’t quite able to pull off my grand plan.’
‘We’re all here now, aren’t we?’ Fergus interrupted, impatient for her to propose the toast so he could resume drinking.
‘Not all,’ she remarked with a twinkle in her eye. We all looked around the room, counting heads to see who had not arrived yet. She watched with mirth, letting us stew. The twins weren’t here yet, so I could only assume that’s who she meant.
‘I know it will be difficult, but Eugene Weiss, the head of our family, gave me a charge. To uphold the illustrious Weiss name. I take that job very seriously. I am the glue, the cog…’
Martha appeared at my side. ‘She can’t be the glueanda cog,’ she muttered in my ear.
‘And so, I have extra special news,’ Jeannie continued. ‘After Christmas, all being well, it looks as though Quentin will be getting out early,’ she announced proudly.
We stood in dumb silence, mouths agape, watching her as she raised her glass into the air.
‘I’m just sorry that it couldn’t be sooner. However, I hope that we can make this the most special Christmas yet. To family!’ She took a dainty sip of her champagne.
No one joined her, not sure if this was some cruel joke.
Instead of taking a long-awaited sip, Fergus’s eyes darted from George to Jeannie.
‘I beg your pardon?’ he said, his jowls quivering.
‘My boy?’ Aunt Clem cried. ‘You mean my boy is getting out?’
