We started up the hill. Slowly. I didn’t want to think about how much weight we were trying to push up a snow-covered hill.
‘I should have listened to Julius Mundey,’ I huffed.
‘That old bloke who’s always complaining? Why? What did he say?’
‘That the road needed to be shovelled and gritted.’
‘Somehow I don’t think that would’ve been any easier than this.’
A honking noise interrupted us and we both turned to see a black 4 x 4 creeping towards us. It pulled to a stop when we didn’t race out of the way and Stephen stuck his head out the driver’s window. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Pushing a wheelbarrow of meat up a hill,’ I replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Did you have any luck with the turkey?’
He opened the car door and jumped out into the snow. ‘No. It’s madness out there. I tried three supermarkets in the nearest town; then I went to the next town after that and tried the two supermarkets there. Nothing. But I did get a goose.’
‘Okay. It’s a bird. That’s something. People probably won’t notice right? Is it a big goose?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t want to fight it.’
‘Helpful, Stephen.’ Nick’s voice was sharp. ‘I think Beth’s more concerned with whether it’s big enough to feed everyone.’
‘I don’t know. It was all I could get.’
‘Of course.’ I hurried to answer before they could start bickering. I almost wished I’d let Noelle spill the beans about them the other day, like she so desperately wanted to. It might’ve helped me cope with being in the middle of their tense but frustratingly subtle conversations. ‘Thanks for going out there. It was kind of you and a great help.’
Stephen gave me a small nod and then moved his gaze between Nick and I to the point where I wondered if there was lipstick all over Nick’s face, even though I wasn’t wearing any. ‘Shall we get that meat in the boot and up to the hotel then?’
‘What an excellent suggestion.’ I scooped up one of the gammon joints, its squidgy pink meat shifting around into the plastic wrap in a way that made me feel nauseous. Stephen popped the boot open and I followed him around to put the joint inside next to a very small-looking goose. I wouldn’t want to fight any size of goose when it was alive to be fair, but Stephen’s comment had led me to believe it might be a bit bigger than that.
Nick carried the side of beef over and went back to the wheelbarrow with Stephen.
‘You used your dad’s coat to line a wheelbarrow and piled meat on top of it?’
‘I was getting hot and it made sense. I can get it dry-cleaned.’
‘She should get it dry-cleaned for you—’ Stephen broke off as I appeared next to them. We each took a cut of meat and Nick hung his dad’s coat over his arm.Hisdad’s. They had different fathers. And where were either of them this Christmas? Goodness, things were complicated with the Cartwrights. Complicated and none of my business.
We unloaded by the kitchen back door and I took Lydia’s car keys from Stephen, sending them both on their way with thanks and assurance I’d be fine for the rest of the day without any further help.
Nick’s eyes were clouded as we parted and later when he, Stephen and Dorie were sitting together having lunch, he had the manner of someone who’d had his man-parts stapled to the chair but was trying to pretend everything was fine. But his man-parts were none of my concern. Or they shouldn’t be at any rate.
As soon as I was done with lunch, I had to deliver Lydia’s car back to her. I could afford half an hour out of my day to talk to her. I knew she was going to bend my ear about Nick, but I also knew that having thirty minutes away from the hotel and all its complications was likely to do me some good.
Chapter Thirteen
I parked up in the tiny slip road behind Lydia’s shop and checked the time on the dashboard clock. It should only have taken me two minutes to drive down from the hotel, but I hadn’t been behind the wheel in aeons and – 4 x 4 or not – driving in a foot of snow was not the easiest reintroduction.
I shoved the wooden gate at the back open, pushing against the pile of snow on the other side and slipping through when there was enough of a gap. The courtyard was dwarfed by an industrial-sized bin, made even bigger by the sheet of snow undisturbed on top of it. There were bags of rubbish next to it. Using the broom propped by the back door, I scraped the snow off, so its weight was no longer pinning the lid of the bin shut. It whomped to the ground. The kids at the hotel would’ve been able to make an excellent snowman with that little lot. Once I threw Lydia’s rubbish in her bin, I let myself into the workshop without knocking. Since Lydia was expecting me, I figured the likelihood of catching her in a clinch was low – plus the mini avalanche should’ve alerted her to my presence.
Lydia’s workshop was not the warmest of places, but it was a damn sight warmer than outside. I couldn’t seem to get the cold out of my bones since the walk down the hill to meet the butcher a few hours ago and my arms were aching.
I could hear Lydia talking to someone in the shop, so I filled the kettle and flicked it on. Getting a head start on the beverages might help make the visit pass more efficiently.
Oh God. Iwasbecoming my mother. Everything was a time-management exercise while I kept an inner eye on the hotel like Sauron.
Well, that wasn’t strictly true. I’d definitely stopped thinking about the hotel last night when I was snogging the face off Nick.
The kettle began to rattle and steam, which I happily blamed for the flush stealing over my face and the hasty unzipping of my coat. I moved closer to the door to see what was taking Lydia so long.
