“You sound like a tourist ad.” Callie rolls her eyes and grips my bicep. Is it too late for me to flex? Aye, it would probably be obvious now. She pushes me toward the door. “Quick, run while you can.”
“Music!” Maeve calls to my retreating back.
Callie’s laugh is music enough, chasing me through the living room while I head to my room for my Amazon Echo device. I catch a whiff of pine from the tree as I pass and share a glance of amusement with my cousin. He’s always been quiet, but even he is comfortable in this messy family, in the middle ofa conversation with Rhys and Tom, Ruby snuggled into his side while the kids play on the rug in front of him. It grows dark so early this time of year that the lights come from inside the house only, and they’re warm, especially when paired with the fire. Everyone is wearing jumpers and woolen socks, and the vision is homey and snug in a way that tugs at my chest.
It throws me back to those evenings before everyone arrived, when Callie and I played her Garbage game and ate together and talked. It felt like we were playing at house, only neither of us had feelings for the other person.
Now, things are different.
I rub the back of my neck as I climb the stairs and try to push all those thoughts from my mind. It’s senseless to dwell on what I wish for when it’s impossible.
My parents aren’t home, but I knock anyway and wait a few moments before going inside. The room is a mess. Clothing is strewn on the chair in the corner and over the edge of the bed. An explosion of items has come out of Mum’s suitcase, but she never was very tidy.
Right. Stay on the mark. I go for the device in the corner and unplug it, wrapping the cord around the hockey puck-like speaker device while my gaze sticks to the bedside table and the laptop precariously sitting open on the edge there. Strange.
Why would Dad need to use my computer if he has one at his disposal?
Nothing about this is sitting right, of course. It hasn’t since the moment they walked through the front door, asking to stay here after three years of steering as clear as possible.
The reasonable adult thing would be to try to have a conversation about this, so that’s what I need to do.
But I should move the laptop back on the table so it doesn’t fall.
I push it gently, and a sheet of paper falls to the floor. Great. This is getting worse. Something tells me to leave the paperthere, but I don’t want my dad to come home and be suspicious, so I pick it up and lift the computer without looking at it. My finger must have hit a button, though, because the screen glows to life. Of course, Dad wouldn’t have a password.
Grandad was right. They’re expecting a campervan for Christmas, evidently. Because they’re looking at Highland Campervans’ website. I choke when I find the price of the Fiat they’ve bookmarked. Eighty thousand pounds.
How rich do they think I am?
Okay, to be fair,Leo and Johnnieis still doing very well for me. But this is ridiculous. I already give them so much. I drop the computer over the paper and turn around to find my dad standing in the doorway, looking at me, and the blood whooshes from my body.
I’ve been caught.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
GAVIN
“What can I help you with?”Dad asks, blinking at me.
I lift the Amazon Echo device. “Mrs. Winter wants festive music while she works in the kitchen, so I’m bringing this down.”
“We used to have the wireless in there.”
“I think you took it when you moved out.”
“Right.” He smiles expectantly.
I don’t move. Isn’t he going to bring up the campervan I saw on his computer? Or the laptop sitting here that he didn’t mention the other night when he was in my office? Or the fact that his campervan is missing? Or where he and Mum have been spending their days?
Or why he’s chosen to stay here all of a sudden when he’s wanted nothing to do with me or this house for three years?
“Is dinner almost ready?” Dad asks.
“No, not really. Ruby has something in the slow cooker, but Maeve is working on caramels now. Tom is going to make fudge, I’ve heard.”
“Delicious.”
I want to scream. This is ridiculous. We both know abouthim looking at the campervan sales lot near Inverness; it’s where Dad bought their first van. He saw me looking at the laptop. He caught me red-handed. Now we’re going to pretend nothing happened? Just let the massive elephant sit in the room and saynothing?
