“There’s a reason the Tuareg men cover their heads and faces in cloth. But the worst of it is that we’re filming in the north, literally in the middle of the nowhere. No internet, no phone signal that’s any use.”
“What if you need to contact someone?”
He lifts one naked shoulder in a half shrug. His body is always hot, as if he has an internal furnace.
“The production crew obviously have a mobile office with a satellite link, so if you book a session, you can go in there and use one of their computers to check your emails. Mostly we’re stuck in our trailers with nothing to do but drink.” He purses his lips. “Or worse.”
Worse.
So much hidden in this one word. My imagination supplies the rest.
I’ve been around filmsets and TV studios where drug taking is not uncommon. The stuff isn’t cheap. And usually, it’s not just the drug taking, it’s the random sex, the self-destructive behaviour, the bad company.
I snuggle up close and kiss his chest again, right above his heart. I keep my lips there a long time trying to kiss away the pain that he must have carried. I desperately want to know more about what happened but don’t want to spoil the moment with questions.
He must understand me because he gathers me close. “I’m good, really I am. And we’ll have a wonderful Christmas.”
Okay, I will stay. And I will do my best to give him and everyone else a wonderful Christmas. I think…“I’ve never hosted a Christmas dinner before. Let’s hope I don’t let you down.”
He squeezes me to him. “I have faith in you.”
Welsh Hagrid, my Welsh Hagrid. How was it that only a month ago, I’d hardly even noticed him. He was never on my radar as a possible boyfriend. Now…
Now he has morphed into this incredible man.
One day when we’re both back in our normal lives, I’ll catch an episode ofClanand see him on screen. I’d be thinking, that’s him, the man who believed in me. The only man who saw the real me.
No boyfriend will ever measure up, not the Armani suits, not membership at the Hurlingham Club or cocktails at the Sky gardens.
And yet, like the unattainable Myfanwy, he is out of my league. His career is such that we will never cross paths. Let’s just hope that I don’t spend my life pining for him as Hywel did for Myfanwy.
And he’s right, Christmas here will be so much better than spending it anywhere else. Tomorrow I’ll ask the Squad if they can get out of The Glyn for Christmas dinner.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Monday, 10th December
Evan looks up from his computer when I tell him and Haneen about my Christmas proposals. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. But be sure to inform the care home. You don’t want them to complain that they’ve already spent money on their own preparations.”
“I have, or at least the Squad have, and they demanded a refund off their catering costs for Christmas Day.”
“And they agreed?”
“They haven’t disagreed.”
Actually, all has been quiet at The Glyn. I had deliberately not told anyone at Kendric House yet because I wanted to find out if Cynthia would refuse. Cynthia, surprisingly, hasn’t even raised a single objection to my Christmas invitation. I would have expected her to at least question me again. But nothing. Even trolley Jenkins has been quiet since she confronted me four days ago.
Now, I find out why.
“Did you tell her about the letter?” Haneen glances round from stirring honey into her daughter’s porridge. They’ve brought lots of honey from the island. Her brother has bee hives and they produce unique honeys. So the kitchen cupboards are full of mead, honey-based marinades and more varieties of honey than I ever knew existed.
This morning, she’s opened a jar of thistle honey, a delicate gorgeous flavour I’m already in love with.
“What letter?” I ask Evan.
“Oh last week, I got an official letter from the management of The Glyn threatening legal action because Kendric House isn’t safe for elderly people and we don’t have a hygiene certificate or a catering licence blah blah.”
My heart falls. “She did question me about all this, and I told her that they were my guests not paying customers. As such, I didn’t need any insurance and certificates. But now, of course, theyarepaying. At least for the shopping.”
