“Do you think they’ll let me take Bill out for an afternoon? For tea?” I ask to change the subject, to bring him back to me.
It works. He doesn’t walk away.
“Of course. Bill’s not a prisoner.”
“Good, but I’ll need directions, real directions this time. He’d love a cream tea. Do you know the best place to take him?”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Cream tea?”
“You know, like a traditional afternoon tea with scones—”
“Yes, I know.”
“Where would I take him?”
His lip twitched slightly as if I’ve told him a joke. The slight upset of before has completely melted away. “You can try the Ivy in Cardiff. It’s pretty good.”
“Cardiff? Bloody hell, that’s at least an hour’s drive. I was hoping for something nearby, somewhere in the Brecon Beacons.”
He’s still fighting laughter. “No, I don’t think you’ll find much in the way of fashionable afternoon tea. Maybe try Brecon. They might have something. But if you’re going that far, you may as well go to Cardiff.”
“Nothing in the Brecon Beacons?” Surely this can’t be right. Then I remember my drive here ten days ago. The empty hills, the small roads with no sign of cities anywhere.
“And” – his brows rise again in that odd mannerism – “if you’re staying in the Brecon Beacons, you really should start calling them by their proper name.Bannau Brycheiniog.”
Unpronounceable Welsh names are the least of my worries, just now. “I promised Bill. And since I’ve caused him so much trouble, I really want to do something for him. He told me he’s craving a traditional afternoon tea with clotted cream and finger sandwiches.”
“You could always make it for him. Are you any good at slicing cucumber and buttering bread?”
Making it? It never occurred to me. But of course, it’s easy to drive to a big Sainsbury’s and buy scones and clotted cream and everything else I need.
I could make it at Kendric House and bring him there.
Yes, why not? The kitchen is a warm, friendly space, and…the idea is just waiting there for me. He would be able to see his son. And it would give me another chance to connect with the professor.
While Haneen and Evan have been away, the kitchen is seldom used. All the partners seem to have small kitchens in their own apartments. If I text Haneen to ask if I may use it to serve a small afternoon tea, and why not invite the professor to join us.
In fact…another idea hits me like a flashbulb.
“What about the others? I mean, my car can fit two more people.”
“Who are you thinking?”
“I was thinking about Philomena and Jack.”
Raff holds my gaze, and he can see; he absolutely understands why I’ve chosen the two people who’ve had the hardest time.
Raff flashes another smile, all white beautiful teeth and gleaming eyes. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
Then, after a moment of thinking, he says, “Cynthia won’t be happy about this. She’ll say it’s disrupting their routine or something. Let me see if I can persuade her. When do you want to do it?”
Chapter Fifteen
Monday 19th November, The Glyn, Afternoon.
On my way in the following day, Cynthia catches me as I walk down the corridor and invites me for a “quick word” in her office.
Quick word, my backside. What she gives me is an interrogation. Obviously, Raff has wasted no time telling her about my cream tea scheme. She wants to know if I have the right kind of insurance, Health & Safety and Hygiene certificates, or catering qualifications.
