‘What are you doing out here, Beth? You’ll catch your death.’
It was the first time in weeks he’d called me by my name or expressed any kind of concern for my welfare. The realisation of that was sad enough but it also sent an alarm bell ringing. I frowned at him and carried on over towards the car. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’ He plunged after me and caught my arm. ‘Just a problem with the delivery, got to send some stuff back.’
‘Back to the butcher’s?’ I stopped and watched him as he nodded and let go of my arm. It would explain why this was happening so late in the day but… ‘This isn’t the butcher’s van.’
‘No.’ He glanced back at it and tugged his hat further down over his ears. ‘No. It can’t get up the hill with the snow, so they sent this guy instead with the Audi. It’s got four-wheel drive. And it’s cold enough it doesn’t matter it hasn’t got a freezer in the back,’ he joked.
I nodded slowly, studying his face, the tight smile directed towards me as he waited for my reaction. I wanted to believe him, but unfortunately for him, I’d spent a lot of time in the not-so-distant past listening to a liar giving me far more details than necessary to cover his tracks.
I pulled the cuffs of my blouse over my hands and wiped snowflakes from my eyes, taking another look at the car. Its engine was running and there was a man I didn’t recognise behind the steering wheel. The boot was half full. ‘What does the butcher want with a sack of potatoes?’
Henry frowned at me and then checked the boot. ‘I dunno. They were in there when he got here. Maybe he was doing his shopping, I’m not a mind reader.’Therewas the irritation I’d grown used to.
Before I could respond, he leaned over, pushing the boot lid down with a slam and knocked on the back window. The wheels spun in the snow for a split second and then the car was moving away. There was a chill in the bottom of my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the snow.
He started walking back to the kitchen.
‘Henry,’ I called out to him. ‘Henry.’
‘I’m getting back inside where it’s warm. If you wanna stay out there freezing your bits off, be my guest, Princess.’
I managed to lift my frozen feet out of the hole I’d sunk into in the snow and make it back to the kitchen. He’d kindly left the door open for me and was crashing about with utensils, throwing them into the sink. He hadn’t even removed his hat or coat yet. As I closed the door, my pulse was tripping in my throat.
‘Henry.’ I had to pause to swallow, to stop my voice from shaking from something that was either anger or nerves. ‘What just happened?’
He paused and gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘I just told you, didn’t I? Talk about short attention span.’
‘So, if I call up the butcher, they’re going to tell me exactly the same story you have?’
‘Of course, they are,’ he said offhandedly but he wouldn’t look at me.
I didn’t answer. What was I supposed to do here? Trust him when my every instinct was telling me not to? Call him out and face a lot of hostility and having to do something radical, like fire him? I couldn’t fire Henry. He’d worked here for ages. He had a little boy. It was two days before Christmas. I didnotwant to deal with this.
‘Okay,’ I said softly and made to leave the kitchen.
‘Is that what you’re going to do?’ His voice was sharp and he’d spun around to watch me. ‘Are you going to call them and check up on me?’
I faltered. ‘I wasn’t, no.’
‘Okay, good.’
‘Why is it good? If you’ve got nothing to hide?’
The silence in the kitchen stretched out and I pushed my hair back from my face with a groan. I couldn’t ignore this. I couldn’t bury my head in the snow and act like there hadn’t been enough signs to tell me the truth of what was going on. And did I really want to be seen as the idiot who had been lied to,again. ‘God damn it, Henry. Why did you do it?’
‘I haven’t done anything,’ he persisted.
‘You’ve stolen from the hotel, haven’t you? There’s no point carrying on lying now when we both know I can just call up the butcher.’
Henry swore and slammed his fist down on the stainless-steel counter, making me jump. I edged towards the door.
‘Why did you have to poke your nose in? It wasn’t going to hurt anybody. I’d have ordered extra from the butcher today and it would be replaced tomorrow – no one would even know.’
‘But the hotel pays for it. And that’s money that goes towards your wages and everyone else’s too. My mum works her arse off to keep this place afloat.’
‘Oh, please. Don’t give me the holier-than-thou speech. Your mum is sitting pretty, and she doesn’t share the profits with the likes of the staff.’
