He’d looked at Edie. ‘Fancy climbing Ben Nevis with me in the wind and rain?’
‘Absolutely no way. I’d moan and groan the entire time. Camping in winter’s my idea of hell.’
‘Case closed,’ Ralph had muttered through a mouthful of food, his eyes crinkling in amusement. ‘Mac, you’re quite safe. You can battle the elements solo.’
The room had gone quiet for few moments, the only sounds being the clatter of cutlery and the odd whimper from Dilly, sitting hopefully at Ralph’s feet.
It was Jessica who’d broken the silence.
‘You should go in the spring or summer,’ she’d said suddenly, looking straight at Hannah. ‘When the weather’s better. I’ll come with you if you like? I’ve done quite a few of the Munros but never Ben Nevis. It’s on my list.’
Hannah had paused, her fork in mid-air. She’d seemed taken aback but soon rallied.
‘Do you know, I might just take you up on that, thank you. It would certainly force me to get fit. I could do with a goal. I’d be so proud of myself if I managed it.’
Mac had remained schtum, cutting his beef into tiny, bite-size pieces with almost forensic precision, and Edie had jumped in to fill the gap.
‘There are plenty of mountains to climb in Crete if you want to get some practice. Hopefully it won’t be wet and windy either.’
‘Where is it you’re staying?’ Jessica had asked next, spearing a small Brussels sprout with her fork. When Edie told her, she’d nodded knowingly.
‘Ah, yes. I remember now, Porto Liakáda was the site of the ancient city of Phoenix, I believe. It was an important harbour in Hellenistic and Roman times. Crete was also the birthplace of Zeus, you know. And King Minos’ daughter, Ariadne, who saved Theseus from the Minotaur.’
‘Ariadne. Isn’t that the name of the villa we’re staying in?’ Hannah had asked. ‘What happened to her?’
‘The myth has lots of variations,’ Jessica had explained. ‘According to most accounts, Theseus promised to marry her then abandoned her on Naxos. She may or may not have gone on to marry Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and pleasure.’ She’d smiled. ‘Let’s hope she did.’
‘Wow! How on earth do you know all that?’ Hannah had asked, her eyes sparkling in wonder.
Jessica had glanced down, looking slightly embarrassed, so Edie had answered on her behalf. ‘She’s a classicist. She read Ancient Greek and Latin at Oxford. That’s what she teaches.’
‘Wow!’ Hannah had repeated.
‘There’s nothing she doesn’t know about ancient Greece and Rome,’ Edie had gone on. ‘About almost anything, actually.’ She’d grinned. ‘You don’t need ChatGPT when she’s around.’
‘Rubbish!’ Jessica had fiddled with a strand of hair, twisting it round and round her finger. ‘You know far more about English literature than I do.’
‘I doubt it.’
Edie had eyed the half potato left on her plate and downed her knife and fork in defeat. ‘I can’t think of a single novel I’ve mentioned that you haven’t read. Maybe there’s a few old English texts that have managed to slip through your net, but not many.’
‘What about football and rugby fixtures?’ Ralph had asked teasingly. ‘Is she good at those, too?’
‘No-I-am-not!’ Jessica had said, emphatically. ‘Can we please change the subject? You’re making me blush.’
Edie had apologised with a laugh and risen. She’d begun collecting the empty plates and when Hannah again tried to help, she was having none of it.
‘Stay where you are.’ She’d signalled to the others not to get up either. ‘Ralph, can you open another bottle of wine?’
The conversation had taken a different turn after that and there were no more sticky moments. Edie had mentioned that their daughter, Maisie, had recently dumped her boyfriend of two years and was now dating an undertaker called Sam.
Hannah’s eyes had widened. ‘Ooh! That sounds a bit gloomy. Is he always dressed in black?’
‘No.’ Edie had laughed. ‘It’s his dad’s business, actually. Sam’s good fun and extremely handsome. The business seems to be very successful. The parents are loaded.’
‘There have been a number of unexplained deaths in the neighbourhood recently,’ Ralph had joked. ‘There’s talk of some chap sneaking round at dead of night with a bottle of poison.’
After lunch, they’d put on their coats and boots and gone for a walk in the misty woods. Pockets of tiny white snowdrops, like little crystal bells, were poking through the hard, frosty earth along the route. It was as if they were guiding the way through the dark trees and bare branches back to open ground – and civilisation.
