‘Caroline gets travel sick,’ Callum said when his mother paled. ‘That’s one of the reasons we haven’t been up to visit yet.’
‘But not too sick to go to Paris in the summer?’
‘Well, no, but that wasParis,’ I said. ‘Not … whatever this is.’
The tiny squeak that emitted from her throat confirmed I’d nailed my thinly veiled insult but, the truth was, her home was incredible. ‘Foyer’ was not nearly a grand enough word for the room I found myself in. Twice as high as the ceilings in a normal house, the stone floors were covered by richly coloured rugs, the walls painted a warm ochre and dotted with paintings that could not possibly have been created in this century or the last, and behind Mrs McClay was a grand staircase, wooden banister polished to a high shine and curving upwards to a balcony that led off in opposite directions. But mostimpressive of all was the centrepiece. Right between the two staircases stood the most magnificent Christmas tree I had ever laid eyes on. It was so tall, I had to crane my head backwards to see the star on the top, and decorated with soft white lights and tasteful silver-toned ornaments. Even a certified Grinch like me couldn’t help but be impressed.
‘Look at your tree,’ I breathed, trying to recall how long it took to cause permanent nerve damage through compressed cervical vertebrae since it appeared I would be spending the entire week gawking up at enormous, gorgeous things.
‘Do you like it?’ Callum’s mother asked, warming up a fraction. ‘I love to decorate at Christmas but the boys never cared much and Elsie always says I’ve gone over the top.’
‘Not at all, Mrs McClay. It’s perfect.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied, touching my wrist. ‘And, please, call me Lizzie.’
Callum draped a solid arm over my shoulders and squeezed my upper arm, bringing me back to the moment. Shit. One look at a shiny tree and I’d already forgotten I was supposed to be an arsehole.
‘I mean, it’s not how I would decorate but you’ve done what you can,’ I said, reappraising the beautiful tree through Caroline’s eyes. ‘Lizzie.’
‘You know what? I’d love to jump in the shower before we do anything else,’ Callum said before his mother could reply. ‘The one on the train wasn’t up to much and I could do with changing my clothes.’
‘Aye, you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards,’ Lizzie replied before adding, ‘Cal that is. Not you, Caroline, dear.’
And we were back on track. I knew a passive aggressive woman when I heard one and, clearly, I was dealing with a pro.
‘Right-o,’ she said to Callum with a smile. ‘You’re in your room and Caroline has the one next door. On account of her night terrors.’
I wrinkled up my nose in a condescending smirk and Lizzie looked away. Another point to me.
‘Where’s Dad?’ Callum asked, looking around the empty foyer.
‘You know your dad, always busy,’ she replied vaguely. ‘I’d better go and check on the food, Fi’s cooking up a storm. I know you said you wanted an easy day so it’s an early lunch then we’ll leave you to your own devices. You go and get settled in, I’ll call when it’s ready.’
‘Better not be too long,’ I said a shade too loudly as Callum guided me up the staircase, leaving his mother fuming in the foyer. ‘The food on the train was inedible. I’m bloody starving.’
‘And the Oscar goes to,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘Well done, very impressive.’
‘Probably because I’m not acting,’ I muttered back over the sound of my rumbling stomach. ‘If we’re not fed inside fifteen minutes I’m going to eat you.’
The sound of his laughter bounced off the stone walls of the foyer, echoing behind us all the way upstairs.
No matter how much Callum insisted otherwise, I simply could not accept that normal people, everyday human beings who blew their noses and sometimes put their pyjamas on the wrong way round on the first try, lived in a home like this.
‘There are tons of places like Balmaclay in Scotland,’ he said, two steps ahead of me as I dawdled behind, taking everything in. ‘It’s not that big of a deal.’
The portraits of his ancestors glowering down at me with reproachful glares.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid it is quite a big deal.’
‘If you’ve changed your mind, there’s still time to back out. I can get Mal to drive you back to the station, put you on the next train back to London.’
‘No one said anything about changing their mind,’ I replied after a quick glance registered his panic. ‘Look, I’m not going to lie, the castle – sorry – the house was a bit of a surprise but I said I’d help you and I will. Obscenely rich people have problems too, right?’
‘We’re not obscenely—’
‘But this is your last chance to tell me,’ I said as he ran an exasperated hand over his face. ‘Is there anything else at all I should know? Like, is someone suddenly going to announce a traditional Christmas Eve hunting party? Is Claudia going to pop up and announce I’m actually starring in a new series ofThe Traitors?’
‘As I said before, nothing I can think of.’
