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She raised her eyebrows and pushed the box towards him.
He teased as he held his hand over certain chocolates, waiting to see her expression. Finally he found one that didn’t make her flinch when he went to touch it. He glanced at the packaging to see what he was getting. “Nice. Chocolate fudge. I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid.” He popped it in his mouth. The sugar burst was instant. The chocolate melting as soon as it came into contact with his mouth and the soft fudge chewy. “Wow. These people really know how to make chocolate.”
It was like an instant burst of energy. Just what he needed as the train rumbled through the dimming light. Maybe chocolate wasn’t just for women?
He took a sip of the wine he’d ordered. He had no idea what kind she liked so decided to play safe and just order some rosé wine, even though he’d really wanted a beer. It smarted against his taste buds in response to the chocolate and fudge and drew his cheeks together.
Juliette was watching him. She didn’t seem to have any problem with the wine and chocolates – she was on to her second glass. Just as well he had an extra bottle stashed away.
She tilted her head as she held up her wine glass. “I love how your accent comes out sometimes. And some of the words you use. Half the time I have no idea what you’re talking about. Especially when you get angry. I hear all these fantastic words but don’t want to interrupt your rant and ask you what you mean.”
He tilted his head towards her. “I rant?”
She took another sip of her wine and leaned her elbows on the table. “You have been known to.” The colour in her face had cooled down and she was back to her normally, perfect-looking self, smiling at him with her big brown eyes.
The camera just ate them up. Juliette was one of the few TV presenters he’d worked with who didn’t have an onscreen persona. What you see was what you got. He liked that. She was the same all the time, whether she was interviewing some crazy local about a haunted house, or sitting in the pitch dark waiting to see if a ghost would appear.
This wasn’t the best job in the world, but it paid some of the bills. It had to. The money he’d inherited had been depleted by all the banking issues. One thing was clear – it wouldn’t last forever. Being responsible for an ageing property and tenants was like a never-ending drip, drip out of his bank account. Especially now that he knew the house needed part of the roof replaced. The next big snowfall could be a disaster. It had been on his mind a lot lately. Had he been ranting at work? He normally kept quiet and stayed in the background. It wasn’t like him.
She was still smiling at him over the top of her wine glass. Now they were actually on their way, she seemed much more relaxed.
“I didn’t know I was a ranter.”
“Only sometimes. Particularly when you call people eeeejits.” She said the word slowly, trying to get it right, and it made him laugh.
“Over the next few days I’ll introduce you to a whole host of Scottish words. Before you know it you’ll be using them all the time.”
She shook her head. “How did you know about this haunted house anyway?”
“Did I say it was haunted?”
Her eyes widened. “You made it up?”
He shrugged. “Are any of the places we go haunted?”
She wrinkled her nose. “What about that place in Gloucester?”
“Rats.”
“And the place in Cambridge?”
“Bigger rats.”
She started to laugh. “I have to admit that a few times I’ve felt chills. No reason for it. And they’ve just come out of nowhere.”
He picked out another chocolate. Blackcurrant. He’d never had one of those before. No wonder she was guarding these chocolates – they were delicious. “That’s because crazy Rufus the ghost whisperer has you whipped up into a frenzy with his stories of weans being tortured and murdered in some of the places we’ve visited.” Rufus did the voiceover on the TV series and made his living talking to ghosts. No one believed him for a second.
“Weans?”
“You know – children. You know what it’s like by the time we reach the location. You’re on edge to start with; it makes your mind do crazy things.”
“And yours doesn’t?”
“I’ve done enough crazy things in this life, Juliette. My brain couldn’t cope with any more.”
She leaned forward on her elbows. “Now that sounds interesting, spill.”
But the waiter appeared with a menu to ask what they wanted for dinner. Travelling in first class had its advantages. It was a simple choice of chicken or beef and the train journey flew past, leaving them in Glasgow Central to grab a coffee before they caught the next train.
“Is someone picking us up at the station? Or can we walk to the house?”
He shook his head. “Not likely. The house is six miles away from the station. My car will be left at the station. I’ve got my keys so it won’t take long to get there.”
“We’re staying in the actual house – not a hotel?”
“Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?”
She looked distinctly uncomfortable. They didn’t usually stay in the houses they filmed in – mainly because most of them were ruins. But Garnock Hall was different. It was a slightly dishevelled but still functioning dusty building. As long as the electricity and heating worked they should be fine.
“For the whole time?” It was clear she would take some convincing.
“Trust me. It’ll be fine.”
It was pitch black outside as the train sped through the Ayrshire countryside. Daylight hours were short during winter in Scotland. He only hoped the car would start when they reached the station.
“So what happened this year?” He was being nosey. But Juliette usually did something spectacular with her boyfriend and family every Christmas. “Kenny said you were single, when did that happen?”
“When Rod decided that an eighteen-year-old topless model was what he really, really wanted.”
“Wow. Harsh. What about the family holiday?”
“I couldn’t face my mother patting my hand and telling me there’s plenty more fish in the sea. Plus my sister would be there with her wonderful husband and 2.4 kids and I just couldn’t stand the thought of plastering a smile on my face all the time. Kenny wouldn’t give me more than a week’s holiday anyhow. No point in going to Barbados for a week.”
He’d stopped listening midsentence. “Why would you feel the urge to plaster a smile on your face around your family when you feel like crap?”
She flinched. Maybe he’d been too direct. But it was clear that a family holiday was the last thing she wanted to do right now.
She sucked in a breath. “Because no one wants to be around a misery guts at Christmas time.” She sounded sad.
He had an overwhelming urge to reach across and hug her. Juliette was a good person. He didn’t like seeing her sad. He’d always thought her boyfriend Rod was a prat. But he didn’t need to be proved right at her expense.
It was time to lighten the mood. “Oh well, I guess I better not tell you that you’ve just got in tow with the Christmas Grinch.”
The corners of her mouth started to turn upwards as she grabbed another chocolate. “You? Surely not?” She took a bite of the chocolate. “But Andrew, you’re such a happy, smiley person.” Her voice was loaded with sarcasm and he shifted in his seat. Maybe the strong silent type scenario he’d adopted down here was coming across a little different.
His fingers brushed hers as he reached for another chocolate. “Are you to trying to tell me I’m grumpy?”
She held out the box of chocolates towards him. “You can be. Here, I’ve decimated this whole box. Save me from myself. Eat some more.”
“I don’t think you need to worry, Juliette. You look fine.”
“But haven’t you heard – the camera adds ten pounds?”
His eyes drifted down her body. It was strange. He’d looked at Juliette’s body in front of the camera fo
r months, but had never considered her that way. She was like most TV presenters – gorgeous and easy on the eye. But he’d always known she was attached, and she didn’t seem like the kind of girl to fool around so he’d never really thought about her that way. It was amazing what a pile of underwear, an unexpected trip and two people in close quarters could do to a guy.
“You still don’t need to worry.” It seemed the simplest thing to say. Even if it didn’t relate at all to what was currently going on in his brain.
The train stopped and a couple of youths got on singing and swaying their way along the train aisle. One of them stopped dead. “It’s her.”
“Who?” His friend looked up, a glazed expression on his face. It was obvious they’d been drinking, but they were at the happy stage. Hopefully they’d stay that way until Andrew and Juliette had left the train.
“You know, the ghost woman from Haunted Ever After.” He nudged his friend again.
Juliette gave a polite smile and averted her eyes quickly.
