‘Elsie likes to do what Elsie likes to do and you’ll be hard pressed to guess what that is even while it’s happening.’ She turned on the tap and blasted hot water into her mixing bowl. ‘I’d say you’ll get used to Elsie’s ways but I can’t guarantee it.’
While Lizzie still had her back turned, I swiped at the open jar of mincemeat and licked the sweet sticky stuff from my finger.
‘Because she’s unpredictable?’
‘Because it takes her a long time to warm up to people and who knows when we’ll see you again.’ She filled the bowl with soapy water, turned off the tap then came back to the table. ‘Ifwe’ll see you again.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked.
‘Only that Callum’s been so intent on hiding you away,’ she replied, all innocence. ‘If I were a more suspicious woman, I might think he was ashamed of you.’
‘If I were a more suspicious woman, I might think he was ashamed of you.’
It was a stand-off. Lizzie McClay, lady of Balmaclay, baker of pies and queen of backhanded burns, versus me, the rookie bullshitter, who could hardly keep her lies straight, let alone rise to meet such a master of passive-aggressive insults.
‘Och, would you look at the time,’ Lizzie said without looking at the clock on the wall or the watch on her wrist. ‘Here I am talking your ear off when I’ve so much to do, the fun never stops around here.’
‘Don’t mind me,’ I replied, still sorting through the implications of her possible insults. ‘I’m sure Balmaclay is a demanding mistress.’
‘And I’m sure you’d know all about that. The mince pies need to come out of the oven in ten minutes. Do you think you could manage that, Caroline?’
My reply came through gritted teeth. ‘I should think so.’
‘Not as daeless as she looks,’ she said sweetly. ‘If you need any help, Fiona should be back in half an hour or so.’
‘But the mince pies will be done in ten minutes?’ I said as she removed her apron and hung it from the hook on the wall.
‘Better not need any help then, eh?’ she replied, vanishing out the back door and out of sight.
Alone in the kitchen, I pulled one of the slightly broken biscuits out from the pocket of my hoodie and munched angrily. So much for our plan to convince his parents they wanted nothing to do with Caroline.
It seemed to me that decision had already been made.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Come in?’
Some hours later, the door to my room opened to reveal Callum’s imposing frame. He was so at odds with the antique elegance of the house, all awkward angles, with his head ducked, one hand in his coat pocket and the other wrapped around the back of his head, a sharp elbow pointing up to the ceiling.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked as he stepped into my room, a quick glance in either direction to make sure no one was watching as though we were still teenagers and might get told off.
‘As well as anyone else with a pretend migraine,’ I said, closing my book. ‘Callum, what does daeless mean?’
‘Helpless,’ he replied. ‘Feeble. Why?’
‘Never mind.’
I made a face at the empty doorway behind him.
‘Mince pie?’ he offered, holding out a small plate. ‘Mum made them herself.’
‘I think you’ll find I was also involved,’ I said. ‘Butno thanks, I’ll pass. Exciting afternoon down on the farm?’
‘It would take a very generous definition of the word exciting for me to say yes.’ He peered around the room, his eyes briefly resting on my rumpled bed covers before skirting quickly away. ‘But I’ve got good news, we’ve been given permission to decamp to the pub for the rest of the evening. Dad lobbied hard for a family Scrabble tournament but I told him you needed some fresh air.’
‘The fresh air of the pub.’
‘You can stay here if you’d rather, I’ll get Fi to send something up.’
