‘He heard us talking about Olivia and Wagstaff; do you think he heard the bit about Jonathan?’ Mirren asked.
‘I don’t know. He’s deaf as a post when I’m asking him for petty cash or help with an article, but he definitely knows we were up to something.’
‘Hmm,’ Mirren worried her lip. ‘So that confirms it. John Wagstaff is Jonathan’s dad.’
‘I think so.’
‘What do we do now?’ Mirren asked.
Adrian cast a glimpse back at theExamineroffices just as the gap held open in the blinds in Mr Ferdinand’s office rattled shut. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he said. ‘Find somewhere to drink this bubbly?’
Mirren was too shaken from Mr Ferdinand’s bombshell and from the heat of Adrian’s hand still clasping hers to stop the words flying from her mouth. ‘You can come back to mine if you like?’
Three hundred miles north, Kelsey and Jonathan were stepping out of their car into the moonlight and smelling the cold, salty air of the Scottish East coast.
The lights on the Forth bridges lit up the sky over the Firth towards Edinburgh. Inland, the fallow winter fields lay frosted and black and the gentle Lammermuirs lifted upwards into the dark sky, their roads barely passable in these icy conditions. Unknown to Kelsey and Jonathan, linking arms on the doorstep of Mari Anderson’s little grey stone house by the sea wall, the first snowflakes of winter were falling there and soon they’d make their way here too to the water’s edge.
For now, all that concerned Kelsey was greeting Mari, Grandad and Calum and letting them take their first look at the newest member of their clan.
The door pulled wide open, the light and warmth spilled out and they stepped inside, screams of delight and hurried footsteps on the stairs drowning out their greetings.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves,
Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths’
(Love’s Labour’s Lost)
‘Cheers,’ Adrian and Mirren clinked the steaming mugs together and settled back onto the bed at the back of the barge, making sure to keep a space between them.
‘No sofa,’ Mirren had informed him awkwardly as he cast his eyes around the low room following the even more awkward revelation that she lived on the boat they’d walked past only the night before and she hadn’t let on. He’d been generous enough to just smile at her embarrassment and didn’t probe her reasons. He’d even kept his sense of humour when she asked him not to pop the cork on the bubbly that he’d began peeling the foil from, and instead she’d flicked the kettle on. If they were going to hang out together she wanted to keep a clear head.
Adrian now sipped his tea, his boots and coat left by the little hatch in Kelsey’s gallery area, now cluttered with framed photographs waiting to be hanged. ‘Can we at least open the chocolates?’
‘Oh, go on then, let’s live dangerously,’ Mirren quipped, pulling at the ribbon on the box and all the time trying to sound matey and calm, even if her insides were fizzing like popping candy.
‘I can’t believe you’ve never seen this film,’ Adrian remarked as Mirren hit ‘play’ andIt’s A Wonderful Lifeburst onto the laptop perched on the little shelf at the end of the bed and a bell tolled on screen and the jolly, festive title music played.
‘It always looked kind of sad to me, so I avoided it. I’m more of aMuppet Christmas Carolkind of woman.’ Mirren offered up the chocolates and Adrian took a soft centre, which she wasn’t going to read anything into.
‘Can’t argue with that. You’ve got to love Kermit’s Bob Cratchit, it’s the little guy’s best work, but honestly this is a great film too. I watch it every year. It is sad though, you’re right, but don’t worry, I won’t blub this time. At least I’ll try not to.’
‘I won’t judge,’ she laughed. ‘Tissues are just over there.’ She popped her choice of chocolate, the peanut brittle square, into her mouth and crunched happily.
The titles finished turning and the orchestra swelled and for the first time Mirren thought it actually felt like Christmas. In fact, it felt surprisingly like the kind of cosy Christmas evenings she used to have with Preston, warm and comfy, just a movie and some snacks, never anything too intense, just companionship. Yet there was a little something troubling her, keeping relaxation at arm’s length.
‘Adrian?’
He was intently watching the opening scenes. ‘Hmm?’
‘Are you sure you can keep Wagstaff’s baby-daddy news to yourself, even after I tell Jonathan when they get back to Stratford on Boxing Day? It’s a secret only Jonathan needs to know, right?’
‘Of course.’
Mirren took her eyes off the screen and quickly glanced at Adrian, who smiled back. ‘And you don’t think Ferdinand suspected anything?’ she added.
He hesitated before answering this time. ‘I don’t think so. If he says anything I’ll just act innocent.’ Seeing the crease form between Mirren’s brows he was spurred on to say more, turning a little to face her. ‘I promise I’ll keep it to myself, OK? I pinkie swear.’ He offered her his crooked little finger and, smiling, Mirren hooked her own around it.
