He swept his hand around him, and I desperately tried to work out if the gesture included me or not. By the sneer Zara cast in my direction, I could see she was wondering the same thing. Luckily, she wasn’t one to hide her feelings.
‘I suppose you includeherin that?’
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business anymore, do you?’ replied Lando quietly.
Zara snorted and I stared at my feet, wishing once again that there weren’t elves cavorting around on my socks.
‘Anyway,’ she continued. ‘I only ever came to this godforsaken hole to give you one last opportunity to repair your life, but it isveryobvious to me that it would never have worked. So I have come here tonight to tell you that I’m leaving, and nothing you can do or say will stop me.’
For a moment, nobody spoke, although I was impressed with myself for suppressing the cheer that wanted to erupt and glancing at Lando’s face, which had relaxed considerably, I guessed that he felt much the same. He spoke.
‘I wouldn’t dream of trying to stop you, but it’s very late.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Nearly Christmas Eve, in fact. How on earth are you going to get back to London? You’d be lucky to get a taxi to the station, and even then, there won’t be any trains.’
‘It’s all sorted,’ she announced triumphantly. ‘Poor Timothy, feeling very wounded byyou’ – she glared accusingly in my direction – ‘is far too distraught to stay, and darling Xander has managed to rustle us all up a car.’
‘Sorry, are allthreeof you leaving?’
‘Yes, that’s right. And we shall have the most marvellous Christmas as far away from this dump as possible. Goodbye, Lando.’
And with one last withering look in my direction, she turned and left, her dramatic departure only slightly hindered by having to wait for Hepburn to wake up and move away from the door so she could fling it open and slam it behind her. Lando and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Once we’d started, we couldn’t stop and soon we were clutching our sides as the tears rolled down our faces, gasping out Zara’s choicest words, which each time set us off again.
‘The mostmarvellousChristmas…!’
‘Poor, distraught Timothy!’
‘You can’t stop me so please don’t try!’
Eventually our mirth subsided and the dogs, who had slunk away at the unaccustomed hysterics, bounded back joyfully to join us.
‘Sorry, Garbo,’ said Lando, picking her up and draping her around his neck. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you, but some humans are just extraordinary.’
‘I’ve rarely seen such a performance,’ I said, ‘other than from a five-year-old, of course. I wanted to give her a round of applause. Quite spectacular.’
‘Spectacularly self-absorbed,’ said Lando. ‘Poor old Xander, finally being sucked in. He used to loathe Zara. I wonder how long that will last.’
‘I saw them snogging like mad after the party. Do you really not mind?’
‘Not remotely. They’ll be good for each other, I expect, although there might be a few arguments over who gets to stand in front of the mirror the longest.’
‘Do you think Bunny will mind that her brother has gone off?’
‘I shouldn’t have thought so, no. She’s so besotted now Ben is back that she probably won’t even notice.’
‘Yes, that’s true. Isn’t it wonderful? I’m so happy for them.’
‘Indeed.’
A silence fell, friendly but thick with atmosphere. It looked like the small talk had dried up and my nerves returned as I remembered where we had left off before Zara came bursting in. Maybe I should cut my losses and go now, pretend I had never said any of it. But then Lando spoke.
‘So, where were we? Yes – your cards were on the table. I’d like to add mine.’
TWENTY-FOUR
I nodded, but Lando didn’t say anything else. Instead, he lifted the cloth on the workbench in front of him and picked up a small carving, about twenty centimetres tall. He cradled it in his hands for a moment, then handed it to me. I looked down, then gave a sharp intake of breath, for there were Lando and me, exquisitely carved, holding hands, looking at each other and laughing at some unknown joke. By our feet were Garbo and Hepburn, so perfectly done that you could see their doggy personalities immediately. I turned the piece over in my hands, wondering at all the little details: Lando’s shoelace undone, my hair messily escaping its bun, Garbo’s smooth furry body so appealingly wrinkled that I stroked it gently with my finger.
‘You can see that it’s not finished,’ said Lando, ‘but it seemed like the right time to show you.’
‘It’s so beautiful, a real work of art. But…’
