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“What is this?” Zac exclaimed as he made a face.
Laurel examined the cover of the CD. “Oh dear,” she murmured. “I didn’t realise this was a CD of Christmas carols played on the bagpipes.”
They listened to an ear-splittingly nasal rendition of Hark the Herald Angels Sing as Laurel got out the Christmas decorations. She’d built a fire and Zac had set it alight—a far better use of his pyrotechnic skills than setting a chemistry lab to flames—and now a cheerful blaze was burning merrily.
It was all a bit different—the crooked tree, the screech of bagpipes—but that was okay. They were making their own traditions. They were starting something new.
Once the tree was decorated, Laurel went into the kitchen to start making dinner. Shepherd’s pie and brownies for dessert—perhaps she’d make Archie a batch, as well, to thank him, for well, everything. It was the least she could do, and Laurel realised she almost wanted to see him
again, and his warm, comforting kitchen.
She started humming to herself, bustling around the kitchen, feeling more optimistic than she had in a long while. This was what she’d been dreaming of and hoping for. Here was the magic.
With the shepherd’s pie bubbling away in the Rayburn and the smell of brownies wafting through the air, she went in search of Zac.
He was upstairs, back on his wretched phone. That hadn’t lasted very long, but never mind. “Come downstairs,” she entreated in what she hoped was a cheerful tone. “Dinner’s almost ready and I thought we could play Ludo.” She’d found the old board game in the back of a cupboard, and had been thrilled to see it still had all—or at least most—of its pieces.
“Ludo?” Zac didn’t even look up from his phone. “What even is that?”
“It’s a bit like Parcheesi, or Sorry,” she said. “You race around the board, and if the other player lands on you, you’re sent back home.” He looked nonplussed and she tried for a more cheerful tone. “Come on, Zac, it’s fun. And you can’t play that game on your phone forever.”
“Fine.” He tossed the phone aside as he unfolded himself from the bed, all lanky limbs and longish hair. Laurel beamed at him as she turned to head back downstairs.
“I’ll go set it up.”
She felt as if she’d staged a scene as she stood in the doorway of the sitting room and admired her handiwork—the fire burning, the lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, the game of Ludo set up on the coffee table, the smell of brownies wafting through the air. Perfect.
Zac came into the room, halting as he took it all in. “I’ll just get the hot chocolate,” Laurel said happily. They couldn’t play Ludo without hot cocoa. She brought the mugs in, topped lavishly with squirty cream, feeling happier and more hopeful than she had since taking the train from York to London nearly two weeks ago.
Zac was standing in the middle of the room as she came in with their mugs. “Ready to play?” she asked cheerfully. She set the mugs down next to the game board.
Zac took another long look around, his hands jammed into the pocket of his super skinny jeans, his face closed. For a second Laurel faltered.
“Zac…”
“Actually, I’ve changed my mind,” he said, and then he turned around and walked back upstairs. A few seconds later Laurel heard his door slam shut.
Chapter Seven
“Laurel!” Archie opened the door wider as two dogs struggled to squeeze themselves between him and the doorframe and Laurel tried to smile. “The Rayburn’s not playing up again, is it?”
“No, she’s fine.” Had she just humanised the cooker? So be it. “I just came by to say thank you.” She struggled to hold onto her smile as she held out a tray bake. “I made some brownies…”
“That was very kind of you.”
“They’re not a patch on your lemon drizzle, I’m sure.”
“Come in.” He stepped aside and the dogs wriggled out, barking joyfully. “Aon! Dha! Tri!” Archie called severely. “Get yourselves back here, ye big galoots.”
Laurel smiled at the sound of his brogue. “Do the dogs names mean anything?” she asked as they came trotting back in and Archie closed the door.
“Aye.” He smiled sheepishly. “One, two, three in Gaelic. Couldn’t be bothered to think of anything else.”
“Works for me.”
He looked around, noticing she was alone. “Where’s the lad?”
“In his room.” Laurel felt the lump of hurt and disappointment she’d been swallowing down for the last hour rise up again. “He’s had enough of me, I think, and right now I’ve had enough of him.” Which felt petty and mean, but after Zac’s rejection of all she’d been trying for, she couldn’t help it. Part of her still wanted to burst into tears.
