Or maybe nothing was wrong, and she was misreading everything. She didn’t know these people, so that was entirely possible.
“You must all be tired and ready for some food,” Jenny said, “so why don’t you get settled in your rooms and then we’ll all enjoy a drink before dinner.”
“Let’s do this. The sooner we unpack, the sooner we can eat.” Rosie clomped her way up the stairs and Declan followed with the rest of their bags.
“You and Hayley are in your room, Jamie.” Jenny didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, and Hayley decided that if Rosie’s own mother didn’t think anything was wrong then there probably wasn’t anything wrong.
She picked up bags and Jamie’s father appeared by her shoulder.
“Let me take those for you. You don’t seem to have brought as much stuff as my daughter.”
“I travel light.” She could have told them that she didn’t own much stuff. That she pretty much took what she had everywhere she went. But that was definitely too much information, so she simply smiled her thanks and followed Jamie’s father up the stairs.
He eyed the garland, twisted around the stair rail. “I hope no one needs to grab that thing or they’ll probably get a rash or stab themselves on holly. Jenny has gone a bit over the top I’m afraid.”
“I can hear you, Martin!” Jenny’s voice floated up the stairs. “And it’s called decorating for Christmas. Something the whole family used to help with before they left home and you filled your days being retired. Now I’m a one-woman festive machine. Jamie? When you’ve taken up your luggage, will you help me bring in more logs from the shed? It’s freezing and we’re going to need them if this snow doesn’t stop. I don’t want anyone wading through snowdrifts to top up the fire.”
Hayley followed Jamie and his father along a wide landing and then through a door right at the end of the house.
“This is my room.” Jamie dropped their bags in one corner. “And we have our own Christmas tree! Nice touch. Thanks Mum.”
His mother appeared in the doorway. “I saw it when I went to buy some extra decorations and I thought it would be perfect in this room. I’ve put out fresh towels. The window rattles a bit in the wind but I’ve put extra layers on the bed so hopefully you won’t be cold.”
“I won’t be cold,” Hayley said. “I’m never cold.”
Jamie frowned. “You’re often cold.”
“No, I’m not. And anyway this room is warm,” Hayley said quickly, mortified. “It’s very snug.”
Jenny gave Hayley another hug. “Well, if youarecold, you’llfind extra blankets in the cupboard just outside your room. It’s so good to have you here. Now I must go and check on dinner and we’ll see you downstairs for a celebratory, welcome-home drink whenever you’re ready.” She left the room and closed the door behind her, giving them privacy.
Hayley walked to the window and sat down on the cushioned seat that spanned the width of the glass. She stroked her hand over the dark green fabric and glanced around her. It was a beautiful room, made even more so by the sparkle of lights from the Christmas tree. The walls were painted the colour of pale moss, which gave the room a warm elegance. One entire wall was covered in bookshelves, and another in black-and-white photographs. The large bed in the middle of the room was piled with cushions and several warm throws, and lamps placed either side sent soft light across the room. “This was your room when you were growing up?”
“Yes. It looks over the garden, not that you can see anything now when it’s dark.” Jamie opened a suitcase and started putting clothes away. “Why did you say you’re never cold?”
“I don’t want to be a nuisance. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, but if something isn’t right you have to say so.” He glanced at her. “To me, at least. Don’t be polite.”
“I’m fine, Jamie.” She stood up and went to take a closer look at the photographs. She saw images of vast, windswept beaches and ruined castles. The photographs showed the landscape’s wild beauty, but also hinted at its stark, unforgiving nature. “They’re stunning. Who took them?”
“Me. I went through a photography phase. Dad indulged me and let me turn the cellar into a darkroom.”
“You have talent.”
“Thanks, I’m nowhere near as creative as Rosie, though.” He abandoned what he was doing and stepped closer. “Are you okay? Was it all too overwhelming?”
“Meeting everyone? Not so far. Your family are charming.Friendly.” She looked around the room again. “And I can’t believe your mother bought us our own Christmas tree.”
“She did that for you. Because I told her you loved Christmas.”
She remembered the hug. The warm smile. The genuine welcome. Something stirred inside her. “She’s kind.”
“Yes.” He studied her face. “Do you want to freshen up or anything or shall we go straight downstairs? I know this is a lot, so I’ll take my lead from you and if it all feels like too much you’re to tell me.”
It was a lot, but she was determined to join in. To be part of things. She didn’t want his family to think she was anti-social or skulking in her room.
She reached out and touched his face. “I’ll change, as I’ve been walking on wild beaches today. But I’ll be quick.”
