I giggled, picturing the scene.
‘I couldn’t bear to miss out on a crumb of Pilar’s food. You know she’s going to make some special Spanish biscuits later – oh, I can’t remember what they’re called…she said they meant ‘dusty’. Anyway, she said she’d teach me how to make them too.’
‘She makes those every year, they’re amazing. They’re calledpolvorones– once tasted, never forgotten. They’re like a sort of very crumbly shortbread. And you’re learning to make them?’
I nodded.
‘Then you can stay.’
My heart picked up pace, but I talked myself down and answered lightly, ‘Not much point if you’re gallivanting in Greece with Zara. You’ll have to learn to roll your own vine leaves.’
He snorted.
‘Zara may think she’d love the rural life in Greece, but she’d be bored within days and nagging me to take back my old City job. Anyway, she’s not invited.’ Now my poor heart skipped a beat or two. ‘The whole point of going is to get away from it all, to concentrate on my wood carving,notto set up home.’
My heart, thwarted, thudded into my stomach. How could I have forgotten?
‘Yes, of course it is. Like me and India. Look, I’d better get back to the wrapping. Thanks for the leprechauns.’
We smiled at each other, but the easy atmosphere had been deadened, and I trudged upstairs to finish the hated job.
I was soon surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and ribbon, so when my phone rang, it took me a moment or two to locate it. And when I did, the shock of seeing Timothy’s name on the screen gave me another cause for hesitation. But curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped the green, juddering icon.
‘Hello?’
‘Penny?’
‘Yes, hi, Timothy.’
‘How are you?’
We made small talk for a moment or two. I was dying to know why he had called, but determined not to ask. New, confident me wasn’t that bothered. It was odd to hear his voice: unsettling but, conversely, strangely comforting. He was so familiar.
‘So, I got your text message.’
Oh goodness, that text! I’d almost forgotten I’d sent it. When he didn’t reply, I’d breathed a sigh of relief and sworn myself off drunk dialling forever.
‘Er, yes?’
‘It was good to hear from you. I did pop round to see you, but Janice next door said you’d gone away for Christmas?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I got a job looking after twins down in Dorset. It’s great.’
‘I see. It was rather annoying going all the way over to the house only to find you gone.’
A little flame flared inside me. That was typical Timothy. He’d done something he considered noble, or self-sacrificing, but my not being there – when I had been completely unaware of what was going on – had spoiled it. And that was my fault. Not long ago I would have apologised, but I felt a little burst of pride in myself as the flame rose higher.
‘Right, well, maybe you should have called first?’
‘But I wanted to surprise you,’ he said peevishly.
‘Well, I suppose that’s the risk you took. When you broke up with me, I wasn’t going to sit at home moping in the hope you might pop round.’
There was a silence, but I didn’t care. The urge to apologise had now completely subsided. Eventually he spoke, a more conciliatory tone to his voice.
‘Of course not. Anyway, I have something for you. I wonder if I could have the address of where you’re staying so that I can send it. It’s so close to Christmas now that I’ll have to sort out a special courier – it’s far too late to post it.’
Again, that tone of irritation at the inconvenience I had caused him.
