‘Callum is the prodigal son,’ he corrected. ‘Dad’s waiting for him to come home and beg forgiveness, trust me. I also did a semester of ecumenical studies, I know what I’m talking about.’
I helped myself to a chocolate digestive and gave it a dunk.
‘I never did understand that saying. The black sheep can’t be that bad, everyone wants his wool in the nursery rhyme.’
‘That’s me all right. They all want a bit of me.’
Rory gave me a sly grin and I matched his expression with a smirk of my own.
‘Which only leaves one question. If Callum’s the prodigal son and you’re the black sheep, what does that make Elsie?’
‘All work and no play, makes Elsie a dull coo,’ he answered. ‘There’s no helping my sister. Chop off her arm and you’ll find the word “martyr” running through her like “Blackpool” through rock.’
‘And if I cut you open, we’d find the words “work-shy bastard”.’
Elsie stormed into the kitchen with perfect and terrible timing. Hair scraped back, clad in a well-worn wax jacket, her cheeks pink from the cold, she gave the both of us a look that would strike a lesser man dead.
‘Elsie, my dearest, darling sister,’ Rory said, utterly unmoved. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Is it?’
I braced myself for impact when she turned her eyes to me.
‘Can you explain why Callum has been screaming at me down the phone, demanding I come up to the house to check on you when you’re sat here scranning biscuits with Rory?’
I shrugged.
‘Just a thoughtful person, I suppose.’
‘He’s an idiot,’ she snapped back. ‘He’s a selfish, inconsiderate, heedless idiot. You can call him back and tell him you’re alive, I’m not his bloody servant.’
I’d met a lot of disproportionately angry people in my time – Joel when Netflix recast Henry Cavill inThe Witcher, Desi when faced with even the most minorinconvenience and even me when they changed the recipe of Percy Pigs – but I wasn’t sure I’d ever met anyone filled with quite so much irrational rage as Elsie McClay.
Before she could skewer me with another sharply worded attack, I heard a car door slam outside, footsteps dashing quickly over the gravel. A quick look out the window showed Derek letting himself out of one passenger side back door as Mal opened the other for Lizzie.
‘You’re OK!’
Callum burst into the kitchen, running straight past his sister and rushing towards the table as if to tackle me. Then he stopped short, slamming his hands onto the wooden surface instead.
‘Why did you hang up on me?’ he demanded. ‘Why didn’t you call me back? Why is your phone off? I thought you’d broken your neck.’
‘All right, drama queen.’ Rory spoke with perfectly executed side eye. ‘Calm down before you have a heart attack.’
‘I didn’t hang up on you, I dropped my phone,’ I replied, flushing from head to toe under the force of his panicked glare. ‘And my phone isn’t off, I couldn’t call you back because it’s broken. Why are you shouting at me? Shouldn’t you be at your aunt’s house?’
‘Aye, I should,’ he replied, voice still raised. ‘But apparently you broke your phone and Elsie couldn’t be bothered to let me know if you were dead or alive so I’m back here.’
‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ Elsie threw out her arms to confirm her place in the kitchen but he was too angry to listen. ‘I was just about to call you.’
‘I rang an hour ago! I know you saw my messages.’
‘I was busy,’ she replied coolly. ‘I didn’t realise it was an emergency. I was going to text you.’
‘No, she wasn’t,’ Rory corrected. ‘She just said so.’
‘What’s all the bother?’ Derek strolled into the kitchen, an anxious-looking Fiona behind him. Outside, I saw Mal resting against the car, face turned up to the sun with a happy smile on his face, unbothered, probably not moisturised but happy in his own lane. I was insanely jealous.
‘Caroline,’ Lizzie looked at me with alarm. ‘You’re all right?’
