A wall of silence came down between us. Then, with one very heavy hand, Derek slapped me on the leg and hooted with laughter.
‘Just like Cal said, she’s a joker,’ he said, wiping away invisible tears. ‘But if your sister’s married, she doesn’t need you to keep her company, does she?’
Without a ready response, I stared daggers down the dark corridor. What was going on? How had I ended up in this situation? And how long did it take someone to find a pair of pants?
‘Tell her, Elizabeth,’ Derek went on. ‘Tell Caroline what it would mean to us to have our boy back home for Christmas.’
‘It would be nice to have all the kids under the same roof for once,’ she said, a quiet admission. ‘Especiallyafter he missed his dad’s birthday to take you on that trip to Paris.’
I sucked in my bottom lip as I met her gaze. Were those tears in her eyes? Was I about to make a complete stranger cry? AtChristmas?
Taking my hand in his, Derek blinked at me, an earnest look on his big, open face.
‘Caroline, don’t make a man beg.’
Sod this. I hated confrontation at the best of times, and I really hated being put in such a stupid situation. What did it matter if I agreed now then cancelled later? This was Callum’s mess to clean up, not mine.
‘OK,’ I muttered. ‘I’ll come to Braewick for Christmas.’
The gleeful howl that erupted from Derek was so loud, I was sure it scattered the ravens at the Tower of London.
‘Champion! It’s sorted then, you’re both coming home.’
Down the corridor, I heard a door bang against a wall and Callum came crashing back into the living room, still barefoot but wearing a pair of black jeans and holding a grey sweatshirt. For how long he’d been in there, I was half expecting him to be in full Scottish regalia. Not that I would’ve minded seeing him in a kilt, I already knew he had great legs.
‘What?’ he said, tugging the sweatshirt over his head. ‘What did I miss?’
‘All good, we’d better be off,’ Derek declared, rising to his feet and patting down all the pockets of his wax jacket. ‘Lots to do, long drive ahead of us.’
‘You’re leaving?’ Callum said, fighting to get his arms into his sweatshirt like a temperamental T-rex.
His dad nodded, finally finding the item he waslooking for in the first pocket he’d checked, his phone, and tapping at the screen with big, decisive gestures.
‘Aye. We’re stopping over in Penrith but that’s still a five-hour drive from here and you know your mother doesn’t like to be on the motorway after dark. We’ve lots to get organised before the two of you arrive, and don’t start your excuses, I know you won’t want to drive, I’m sorting out the travel right now before Caroline changes her mind. The train, mind, there’ll be no last-minute flights, I’m not made of money.’
‘What travel, travel where?’ Callum asked me and his mother as his father continued to poke at his phone. ‘What’s he talking about?’
Lizzie pursed her lips before she spoke. ‘Your father has convinced Caroline here the two of you need to come home for Christmas.’
Without saying a word, he reached out for the doorframe to steady himself.
‘You’re very welcome,’ his father said, putting his phone away. ‘Mal’s booking your tickets, he says they’ll come through on the email so no need to pick them up at the ticket office. I shall see you both the day after tomorrow, have fun on the train and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
‘Or anything he would do,’ Lizzie added, kissing her son on the cheek then pulling back to observe me from across the room. ‘Lovely to meet you, Caroline. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.’
‘Same,’ I replied, the best I could manage as I held up a hand in farewell, unable to rouse myself from the sofa.
In fact, neither of us moved when his parents let themselves out. Instead, we stayed right where we wereuntil the front door closed and the car outside revved into life. Only then did Callum sink down to the ground, holding his head in his hands.
‘OK, first question,’ I said, as the sound of the engine faded away, leaving the two of us completely alone. ‘Where the fuck is my bobble hat?’
Chapter Three
‘Your hat’s in the bedroom,’ Callum said, his hands rubbing at his damp hair as though he was try to massage some sense into himself. ‘I’ll wash it. Or you can burn it and I’ll buy you a new one, up to you.’
Now he was fully dressed and it felt less like a convictable offence, I took a moment to study him more closely. Even sitting down, he was a force to be reckoned with, easily over six feet tall and broad across the shoulders. You wouldn’t want to get stuck behind him at a gig, but he did seem the sort who could easily hoist you up on his shoulders for a better view, should the need occur.
‘And second question,’ I said, softening slightly. ‘What on earth was that all about?’
