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‘Arlo! Hold on a minute.’
Katie sounded desperate and Arlo’s stomach did several somersaults. She looked so … funny and gorgeous in her Christmas jumper and reindeer headband. So festive and determined to enjoy her special holiday.
Arlo felt about as festive as a wet Wednesday in January. ‘I really should head back before it’s dark.’
‘Can’t you use the launch at night, then?’
‘Well, you can, but I’m not supposed to take it out after dusk because of the disturbance, though I doubt anyone would notice a short trip on Christmas Eve.’
‘OK. I don’t want to get you into trouble.’
His stomach did more acrobatics. Nothing she had said to Ned had dimmed his feelings for her, which was a very bad sign. ‘You won’t, I promise.’
‘OK. But I wanted to ask, what did Ned mean about hoping you have a relaxing day whatever you do?’
Arlo forced a smile. ‘He’s probably worried I’ll spend it with Pongo on the sofa.’
Katie’s face fell. ‘But I thought you’d be at Greg’s.’
Arlo could have kicked himself but he couldn’t lie to Katie. ‘He’s spending the day with his parents.’
‘So, you’ll be on your own on Christmas Day?’ She made the prospect sound horrendously bleak and Arlo couldn’t disagree.
‘Yeah, but that’s fine with me. I really don’t mind.’
‘You do know you’re very welcome to stay.’ She hugged herself, apparently feeling the chill that was rapidly descending under the clear skies.
He panicked. ‘That’s – very kind of you but I really will be OK.’
‘If you’re sure …’
Pongo refused to leave Katie’s side. ‘Come on, boy. Let’s go.’
Pongo whined in the most pathetic way that Arlo had ever heard.
‘I don’t think he wants you to go,’ Katie said. They could hear the church bells ringing across the lake.
‘But I must,’ he said, knowing that if he remained another minute on the island, he might cave in. ‘Happy Christmas, Katie. If you need anything, you know where I am.’
‘Happy Christmas, Arlo. You know where we are too.’
His heart fluttered with longing but he ignored it.
‘Please, go in before you freeze,’ he said and then called, ‘Pongo, come on!’
Something in his tone told the dog he meant business and he shuffled away from Katie and followed Arlo out of the grounds and into the copse.
Arlo would have run if he hadn’t thought Katie was watching; he certainly wasn’t going to turn and look back. Fighting a sense of hopelessness that almost paralysed him, he made it to the launch and jumped on board, followed by Pongo. The lake was a black expanse in the dusk, and an owl hooted from the trees. Lights twinkled in Keswick and on the far banks of the lake, thinning to a lone pinprick of yellow from the highest fellside farm.
It was Christmas Eve and he thought of all the families gathered around the fire and dining table or the TV and the games console. Some people would be alone, by choice or necessity, and for the life of him, Arlo couldn’t decide which he was.
He turned the key in the engine of the boat, expecting the dull throb of it turning over so he could pull away.
The dash lights came on but the engine was silent as the grave.
Arlo swore several times and tried again although he already knew what was wrong. The trigger wire to the starter motor must have come loose again through use and age. He’d have to try to fix the wire himself before he could leave, which meant grovelling down beside the engine. It was almost dark and it wouldn’t be easy finding the wire in the bilge.
Half an hour later, he’d managed to rig up a lead lamp from the cabin lights to help him wind the thin wire in the gloom of the engine hatch.
