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His stomach rumbled loudly. ‘Let’s deal with one problem at a time.’ Firstly, he needed something to eat, and secondly, he needed to figure out where he was going to park the damn van, which he was obviously going to be spending the night in. With Dickens.
Callum rolled his eyes. He really hoped that all this – dropping in unexpectedly on his friends and discovering he couldn’t stay with them, along with the discovery of the cat – wasn’t going to turn out to be a bad omen. This trip was meant to be straightforward; he was there to find the bookshop and sell it. For some reason, he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was going to be anything but straightforward.
He willed himself not to think about the next potential problem – the bookshop. All he wanted to find out right now was that his invitation to dinner had not been rescinded.
Callum walked up to the farmhouse door, took a deep breath, and gingerly knocked.
The door flew open. ‘What are you knocking for?’ Jack asked, grabbing his arm. ‘Come inside.’ He gestured at the kitchen. ‘Go, grab a seat at the table.’
Callum walked into the kitchen. Fergus was already sitting at the table. Callum noticed he was drawing something with crayons.
‘What are you drawing – can I see?’
Fergus put his crayon down and held it up just as Beth walked into the room carrying a hotpot. Jack brought up the rear with two dishes, one with roasted vegetables, the other with potatoes.
‘I’m drawing my puppy, the one I want.’
Callum caught Beth frowning at the picture as she leaned over to put the hotpot on the table. ‘Um, that’s a nice drawing,’ said Callum, smiling weakly.
‘Take your crayons and drawing pad off the table please, Fergus.’
‘But Mummy, I haven’t finished my drawing.’
‘Do as your mum asked please, lad,’ said Jack, looking sheepishly at his wife.
Callum watched Fergus pick up his stuff and dump it on the kitchen worktop behind him. The kitchen was new, with expensive granite worktops. Callum hadn’t been there since they’d renovated the farmhouse, which had only been possible because of the money he’d sent them to pay off their mortgage and debts.
He sighed, thinking,Perhaps I should have prioritised my own mortgage first. But theirs had been a drop in the ocean compared to his own, and at that time, he’d just thought that the good times – meaning the money – wouldn’t end.
Had he been happy, though? That was another story. If someone had told him that the show would be over after the last season wrapped, he’d probably have been over the moon, if he’d been in a better financial position.
Callum didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he glanced around their cosy farmhouse kitchen. It was small by the standard Callum had been used to while living in his sprawling Beverley Hills mansion. But it was exactly how he imagined a little farmhouse kitchen should be, with an Aga, oak kitchen units, and a big wooden family-sized table seating eight people at least, taking up far too much space in the centre of the kitchen.
Surprisingly, before Beth sat down at the table, she picked up Fergus’s drawing of a black dog and stuck it with a magnet to the fridge door. When she sat at the kitchen table, she said to Fergus, ‘So, what are you going to call your puppy?’
Callum caught Beth eyeing Jack and throwing him a wisp of a smile. She’d obviously decided there was no going back now – Fergus would be getting a dog.
Fergus put a finger to his lips. ‘Um, I don’t know. I like Chewie.’
Beth sighed. ‘Do we have to name the dog after a Wookie?’
Callum sniggered into his hand as Jack ladled some of the hotpot onto Callum’s plate. He could tell Beth lived with a Star Wars fan; despite not being a fan herself, she clearly knew all the names of the characters.
‘What about Teebo?’ Jack suggested.
‘We are not naming the dog after an Ewok.’ She raised her eyebrows at Jack. ‘We will have plenty of time to think up a name for the puppy – asensiblename.’
As Beth passed around the roast vegetables and potatoes, Jack turned to Callum. ‘So, you finally got a break from filming?’
‘Yes, of sorts. Quite a long break, actually. They cancelled the series.’
‘No way! After all these years?’
‘Yes, that’s Hollywood for you.’
Beth exclaimed, ‘No! They can’t do that!’
Callum shook his head. ‘I’m afraid they can. I’m not sorry, on one level.’ Callum wouldn’t tell them what a fool he’d been with his money – helping out his best friends, notwithstanding. ‘I’m getting too old for that lark.’
