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“I’ll begin lunch. You need to eat,” Kit declared with a frown.
“Okay.” Stephanie patted his hand.
Kit
An hour later, Kit was glaring at the phone in Stephanie’s hand. She hadn’t been lying when she had claimed insurance companies were damned awkward. They wanted to know the ins and outs of a duck’s arse, Kit thought mulishly. He’d have told them to go hang themselves by now, but Stephanie was remarkably patient.
She answered their questions, sent them pictures, and gave them the crime reference number. Stephanie sent them the footage and then had to reassure them three times that it was the correct video. She explained the delay three times, and that was when Kit lost control of his temper and left her talking in the kitchen.
Agitated, he paced back and forth in his room until she knocked on the door an hour later.
“That took some doing, but as I have a crime reference number and the police have taken my statement, they are sending out a cover car when they pick mine up. The video has totally baffled them, but I told them what the police told me, and they said they’ll contact them,” she said when he opened the door.
“When does the new car arrive?” Kit asked.
“Tomorrow. And I think I’ll park it away from the inn in the overspill car park. That way, Justin might not get his hands on it,” Stephanie said. She turned around and began walking back to her apartment.
“I hate bureaucracy,” Kit whined as he followed her.
“Oh, Kit, don’t we all.” Stephanie sighed and moved slowly.
Kit noticed how stiff she was acting.
“Does your back hurt?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Truthfully, yes. The skin feels tight, and it feels like I’m pulling it when I move around. I knowthat’s part of the healing process, but it’s very uncomfortable, and sometimes I get pain there,” Stephanie replied.
Kit cursed himself. He should have realised this.
“Do you have any moisturising lotion?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“If you want to fetch it, I can put that on. CeeCee made a lavender-scented cream that would have been perfect. But we can make do. And anyway, I need to check your wounds today. I haven’t done so yet,” Kit said, ignoring Stephanie’s blush.
He knew Stephanie was uncomfortable undressing in front of him. Kit had suggested that she put her bedtime robe on the back to front so she was covered. Even so, she still got embarrassed. Stephanie sent him a sharp nod and disappeared into her bedroom. He pottered around, making her a cup of tea, when he heard her gasp.
Nearly dropping the cup, he rushed into the bedroom and found her ready but holding a small pot in her hands.
“This appeared out of nowhere,” Stephanie said, holding it up.
Kit’s eyes narrowed on the purple glass pot and its jewelled surface. He recognised it immediately.
“It smells of lavender?” Kit asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes.”
“Wollscombe,” Kit muttered.
Stephanie stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to elaborate. “Well?” she finally demanded.
“It’s the family home. Remember, I told you it was sentient too, and more so than The White Witch?”
“Yes?” Stephanie wasn’t following him.
“The night the book turned up…”
“What do you mean, ‘turned up’?” Stephanie interrupted him.
