Effy's eating an apple and leafing through a thick book on dream psychology. This title is new to me, so I make a mental note to add that one to my to-be-read list.
Finn waves me over and shoves a card into my hand. I read the question.
This is ridiculous. And dangerous. The last thing I want is to get dragged into this, so I give it back to Finn.
“Joan McKenna, did you ever have sex at Heatherfell?” Finn asks.
That’s when it comes back to me.No one gets into Heatherfell.
“Fuck you, Finn. I’m not going there.”
My mind flashes back to Stella telling Terrence that Joan had an affair with a bodyguard who was later found dead in the canal.
Effy looks up from her book, throwing Finn a death stare before turning another page.
“How about you, Finn?” Joan jumps in, trying to smooth things over.
“Wouldn’t want to miss my cum shot on the royal Heatherfell grounds.”
“Tell me who!”
Finn’s eyes blaze, darting between Joan, Alex, and Luca.
“STOP!” Joan screams, throwing herself across the couch cushions. “Which one of them?”
No one answers. Joan rolls onto her back in what I’d call theatrical frustration.
They did a threesome. Obviously. It took me one conversation to figure out that where Luca goes, Alex follows, and vice versa. If that ever changes, I don’t want to be around for the disaster.
Finn looks far too satisfied with himself. This whole scene was meant for me, his drunken stare stays fixed on me, not subtle in the slightest. I'm not impressed.
Effy lowers her book for the second time, giving him a look that clearly meansenough.
Finn shuts up. Everyone shuts up.
Right.
This is getting awkward. Better find Tom.
My eyes sweep the room. He’s nowhere to be seen, including the pool table where I left him.
A hand lands on my shoulder. It’s Auntie Mary.
“If you’re looking for Tom, he’s working on Christmas dinner.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “He’s cooking for all these people by himself?”
“It isn’t that much work, lad. Come on, I’ll show you.”
I leave the younger generation to their game, trailing Mary toward the kitchen. Behind me, I catch Finn bragging that he’s going to sink his teeth into the fresh meat tonight, which is, of course, me.
The prick. A herbivore he will be.
The kitchen’s a mess when I step in, just like in Palm Oasis.
I didn’t need a crystal ball for that. Tom’s an incredible chef, but he always leaves the cleaning to me.
The setup surprises me. I expected some large-scale operation underway, with courses at every stage of prep. Instead, I find Tom stirring a big skillet of baked potatoes.
