Ezz grinned at their giggles. ‘Pigs in blankets are just small sausages wrapped in bacon.’
‘Aw.’ Alvin looked deeply disappointed and climbed onto his grandmother’s lap to suck his thumb.
When the food had been discussed, Ezz said, ‘The Christmas trees are coming soon and we’ll need extra decorations for them. I wondered whether you’d be choosing them or—’
‘Yes,’ Astrid said with alacrity. ‘Farmor just said we didn’t bring anytomtarwith us, but that’s OK because we’re in Scotland.’
Ezz glanced at Mats for enlightenment. ‘Part of our folklore,’ he explained. ‘Tomtarare what you might thinkof as trolls. They live under our houses. They’re a bit mischievous, but they keep us safe. At Christmas, they form part of the decorations.’
While Ezz was trying to imagine this, Gwen went back to work and Grete said she’d leave the choosing to the others and go upstairs to rest. Ezz somehow found Astrid climbing on her knee, asking, ‘Can we see decorations on your computer?’ Then Mats plonked his chair beside hers and scooped up Alvin, and they made a happy group raiding online stockists for angels, lights, baubles, tinsel, balloons and a small artificial tree for the children’s playroom. Only one supplier said they didn’t deliver to the Scottish Highlands – not that Skye was technically part of the Highlands – and the rest promised delivery by the weekend.
The only tricky moment was when Alvin corkscrewed round on Mats’ lap to say, ‘Will Mamma come for Christmas?’
Mats held him tightly. ‘She’s with Andreas this year,lillen, and you and Astrid are at Rothach Hall with me. But we can FaceTime Mummy after lunch.’
‘Yeah,’ said Astrid instantly.
Alvin just shrugged and rested his head tiredly against Mats’ shoulder. Ezz’s heart melted when she saw Mats drop a consoling kiss on his son’s blond hair. Although she’d never reached a place in her life where a child of her own seemed a great idea, she sometimes felt she was missing out and wished that her nephew Barnaby lived closer. She was looking forward to having him at her place over Christmas, though.
‘I wonder what Josefin’s making you for lunch?’ Mats said, probably as a distraction.
‘Pepparkaka.’ Alvin perked up.
Mats laughed and gave the tiny body an extra hug. ‘Gingerbread? She’s making that for Sunday. You and Astrid will help, I think.’
Astrid slid from Ezzie’s lap and rubbed her tummy. ‘I’m hungry.’
Mats gathered up their outdoor things. ‘It is lunchtime, so that’s good. Thanks for all your help, Ezz.’ He dropped his voice. ‘Everything OK? I think Mum’s decided to act as if she never saw the resignation letters.’
She found herself smiling into his eyes, seeing only kindness there. When she’d found him strange and distant at first, he’d probably been uptight and anxious about his children – and his ex-wife, of course. Catching herself wondering what closeness remained between Mats and Inger, she accompanied him to the door. ‘That sounds comfortable. Thank you.’
She watched him follow his children, nodding pleasantly to a middle-aged couple who were hovering by the reception desk, which Orla had strung with twinkling fairy lights. A bowl of cones lent their piny scent to the air. The woman was short and rounded, her brown hair streaked with grey. The man had lost his hair altogether and was taller but stooped, with blue eyes and weather-roughened cheeks. Ezz turned to them. ‘Hello, can I help you? Sorry, the receptionist must have gone to lunch. We don’t get many visitors in winter.’ The couple stared at her.
‘Are you looking for the public rooms?’ Ezz asked pleasantly. Then her attention flew back to the man. ‘Oh, you were here a few weeks ago … ? You must have enjoyed your visit.’ She smiled, remembering how he’d hovered on the drive and needed encouraging indoors.
The man beamed. ‘I enjoyed it very much. It’s nice you remember me.’
The woman took a tiny tentative step. ‘You’re Esmerelda Wynter. We’ve come to see you.’
‘Me?’ Ezz was puzzled by the way the woman’s knuckles had whitened around her bag strap. Then misgivings struck as she remembered someone had once threatened to sue the hall after they’d tripped on the stairs. It had been during Tavish’s time as manager. Mindful of Grete and Mats on the other side of the door to the family side, she took a step back. ‘Would you like to come into my office?’
‘Thank you.’ The woman sounded faint, as if being arrested or something, but trying her best to be brave.
The man rested a reassuring hand on her back, and they entered, glancing about the polished, comfortable room. The additional seats were still ranged around, and they selected two.
After Ezz had seated herself on her own side of the desk, she covered a rising sense of apprehension with a smile. ‘What brought you here today?’
They exchanged glances. Then the woman said waveringly, ‘This is my husband, Rick Colville, and I’m Kay Colville. But I used to be called Kay Loveless.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘And you used to be called Lindy Loveless.’
A buzzing began in Ezz’s ears. She stared at the frightened-looking woman, trying to rehear the words and check whether there could be any interpretation other than the one that had blazed into her mind. She, Ezzie,used to be called …? The room seemed to shimmer. A sudden noise at the window startled her and she glanced up to see hailstones bouncing from the glass like handfuls of white pearls. She’d become so cold that she could have been standing out there.
But then came a strange feeling in her chest, as if her heart recognised the small, uncertain woman in the room. ‘You’re …’
The woman’s voice shook harder. ‘I’m your birth mother.’ She gulped. ‘Oh, dear. Could I have a glass of water?’
Ezz had to force her legs to carry her to the water cooler and fill three glasses. Rather than pass the drinks into waiting hands and risk skin touching skin, she placed their glasses on their side of the desk. Resuming her seat on legs like cooked spaghetti, she lifted her own glass to her lips and sipped, the rim chattering against her teeth.
Though she’d heard people say,I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,she’d never really believed it … until now, when disbelief was making her feel disconnected and distant. The woman – Kay – had dark, shy eyes, which seemed to drink Ezzie in. An attractive sixty-something, despite requesting the water, she hadn’t reached for it, but kept her hands fisted in the lap of her navy-blue skirt.
