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‘Yes.’
He seemed shocked. ‘When? What did I do?’
She leant forward and looked him in the eye. His Adam’s apple rose and fell and she saw him swallow hard.
‘I was fourteen, on my way home from school. You were sixteen and leaving the next day for boarding school. We met in the village and I tried to offer you some words of comfort about the loss of your mum. I told you how sorry I was and how much you and Russell would be missed. You gave me the coldest, cruellest smile I have ever seen and you said, “As if you care, Grace. I think we’ll both be glad to see the back of one another.” And then you walked away.’
His mouth fell open slowly as if he couldn’t take it in and then he closed his eyes briefly and screwed up his nose and nodded.
‘I remember that day. I’ll admit I’d forgotten about it but now I remember. I can’t believe you remember what I said, word for word. I had no idea. I’m truly, truly sorry. What you don’t understand, Grace, is how I felt at the time. I … I had just lost the most important person in my life, and I was convinced I was about to lose another. But we won’t go there. The point is, I was lashing out. Not really at you but at myself. I was feeling sorry for myself. I was putting up a wall between myself and ... and anyone. Everyone. You. If I’d known I’d hurt you, I would’ve tried to make amends. I would’ve … why did it hurt you? Why did you care?’
‘Oh! Erm. Because we were friends. Or I thought we were.’
‘But you believed you were in love with my brother. So why did you care what I said?’
Grace had just taken a sip of her wine and she spat it out at his words.
‘What … what did you just say?’
He quirked one brow and wiped a few splashes of the wine from his shirt with his fingers.
‘I said, you thought you were in love with Russell, so why did you care what I said?’
‘In love with Russell? What makes you say that?’
He frowned at her. ‘I didn’t say youwerein love with Russell. I said youbelievedyou were. There’s a difference. Only from your tone and the expression on your face, am I correct in thinking that you still believe that? After all these years? Are you still infatuated with Russell?’ The frown deepened.
‘I’m not infatuated. Why does everyone say that?’
‘Everyone?’
‘Never mind. I don’t know how we got onto this subject. We’re not here to discuss Russell. Or me. Or even you. We’re here to lay out some ground rules if my family are going to organise the Mistletoe Dance and decorate your house. Let’s do that and then we can both go home.’
He still held her gaze and she looked away but was acutely aware that his eyes were still fixed on her.
How had he known about her being in love with Russell? Did Russell know? Would Griff now tell him?
‘I promised Russell that I wouldn’t repeat what he told me today. I want you to promise me that you won’t repeat anything we say tonight. And I mean anything.’
He leant back in his chair and stared at her, his glass of beer hovering just below his mouth, his eyes intense, his jaw firm.
‘You mean you want me to promise not to tell my brother that you’ve fancied yourself in love with him for more than twenty-five years, give or take a few years?’
‘I … I … Yes. That’s exactly what I want.’
The scowl of old had returned, along with the sardonic smile. ‘You have my word. But I have to say, I’m astonished. I thought…’ He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter what I thought. Let’s discuss those ground rules and agree that we won’t discuss this subject again.’
‘That’s fine with me. I understand that Bianca wants to be involved with the organisation for the Mistletoe Dance. We are prepared to agree to that but if she so much as raises her voice to any of us, we expect you to step in.’
‘Agreed.’
‘We will require carte blanche regarding purchases of decorations and anything else we need to achieve our task.’
‘Will we have a say regarding those decorations? The style, for example? Or the colours?’
‘I’m suggesting white, green, and silver. Are you happy with that? Do you need to ask Bianca?’
His brows knit together. ‘Just white, green, and silver?’
