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Perhaps it was time for her to let up on him a little. He’d done wrong, but he’d clearly regretted the consequences his actions had produced.
She’d intended to throw all his money back in his face once she scrimped it together. Yet here was something he was asking her to do, something that could ease her burden of the debt.
Their food arrived before she could answer, the two waiters whipping off the silver covers of the plates with a flourish.
After she’d made the expected noises of approval, they departed. And, drawing a deep breath, Miranda said, “I think it’s a lovely gesture. Your mother will adore a birthday celebration. Of course I’ll come.”
“Toothbrush. Shampoo. Perfume.”
Miranda packed the final items into her toiletry holdall and tossed it into her overnight bag. Then, crumpling up her list, she dropped it into the bin beneath her dressing table.
“You’re all packed?”
She hadn’t heard her mother come in. Miranda turned her head to smile at Flo. “Only my cooking stuff left to pack—at least Callum’s Daimler has plenty of space. I’m going to miss you and Adrian, Mum.”
“You’ll be back after the weekend on Boxing Day.” Flo patted her arm. “Not that long.”
But it would be over Christmas. “With Christmas falling on Friday this year, Boxing Day seems so far away.”
Flo gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll keep you some Christmas pudding, darling.”
“That would be lovely.” Her mother made the best Christmas pudding in the whole world.
“Adrian’s already up. Should we open our presents before you go?”
Miranda studied Flo. “Wouldn’t you prefer to wait until Christmas tomorrow?”
“It will be so strange without you. Let me see what Adrian wants to do.”
Flo waltzed out, and Miranda gathered up the modest gifts she’d bought for her mother and Adrian, before making her way to the small lounge.
Adrian and Flo were already waiting, Flo all but dancing with excitement as she pushed a package into Miranda’s hands. “We’re doing it now. Save mine until last.”
Miranda laughed. “I will, I will.” She handed Adrian the bottle of aftershave she’d bought him—one she knew he liked. “This is yours. When I get paid for this weekend’s work, I’ll give you a check to put toward the BMW—that way your friend will at least continue to hold it for you. I’d like to get Mum a microwave, too.”
Adrian’s face lit up. “Thanks, sis. That’s awesome. One day I’ll repay everything you’ve done for me.”
Miranda felt a niggle of misgiving. “Pay me back? You don’t need to. It’s a gift.”
Her brother looked uncomfortable. “One you can’t afford—not if you want to get out of The Golden Goose.”
Had she become so tight about money that her brother couldn’t accept a gift from her anymore? It reminded her of her own determination to pay Callum back come hell or high water.
But Adrian was family. It was different.
Before she could say anything more, he handed her a flat parcel. “It’s a boring gift. But I think you’ll enjoy it.”
It was a book by a chef she admired. She hugged him, then she settled down and tore the wrapping from the package her mother had given her. Her fingers peeled back the paper to reveal a red woolen scarf. She drew it out. It was as soft as the silk she’d collected from the silkworms she’d reared as a child, the wool fine and warm against her fingertips.
How much had it cost?
She bit back the question. “It’s beautiful. Thanks, Mum.”
Flo’s eyes glowed with happiness. “Take it with you. That color does marvelous things for your skin. I knew it was yours the moment I spotted it. And here’s something else.”
A second, much larger, package landed in her lap.
“Mum, you didn’t need to…” Her voice trailed away as she saw the ivory trench coat that lay inside.
“They’re very in this season, darling.”
Miranda felt as if she’d been turned to stone. She stared at the coat. But instead of seeing a garment, all she could see were bills.
