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‘In town. Last couple just left. Folk can’t be arsed to get themselves down here in this weather. They’re all up at this late-night shopping thing.’ He sniffed. ‘I was just about to close up as a matter of fact.’
‘Oh, please don’t stay open on account of just us,’ Honor said, hoping he would as she didn’t relish walking home along the prom until she’d warmed up.
‘Nah. Sit yourselves down, my lovely. It’s no bother. Wood burner’s lit till it isn’t. If you don’t mind the place to yourselves, I’ll go and watch a bit of telly in the bar. What can I get you?’
Jago looked at Honor. ‘Two whiskies please, and a beer as well for me. What would you like with your whisky, Honor?’
‘Well, I’m not touching the cider in here again.’
Claude laughed. ‘It were a good batch that. How about a nice glass of wine?’
Honor wasn’t sure about mixing wine and whisky. ‘I’ve got a long drive in the morning, so I’ll stick to just wine then.’
‘Not a problem. Sit yourselves down and I’ll bring them over.’
They chose the sofa in the corner by the wood burner and held out hands to warm. On the mantelpiece above was an array of Christmas cards and three stockings hung down. Johnny Mathis shifted into Judy Garland and, with the gaudy tinsel, flickering lights and Christmas trees dotted about, it felt cosy.
Jago unwound his scarf and took off his jacket. Eyeing the tree nearest to them, he said, ‘Ours is being delivered on Christmas Eve. Do you think it’s cutting it a bit fine? Mum and I want to replace Merryn’s memories of last Christmas Eve with ones of decorating the tree.’ He collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh and stretched his long legs out. Taking his hat off, he scrubbed a hand through his curls making them stand up.
‘It sounds a lovely idea. You can have some Christmas pop songs on, Ivy jumping around getting in the way and the traditional argument over the knotted lights.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ Jago replied on a laugh. ‘Last year we shoved them into a box any old how. God knows what state they’re in.’
Claude brought their drinks over along with a plate of mini sausages. ‘Help yourselves,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I cooked ’em up this arvo thinking we might be busy tonight, so they’ll only go to waste.’ He patted his generous girth. ‘Or add to my flab.’
‘Ooh thanks, Claude.’ Honor took her coat off. ‘Hope you’ve got Santa tied up well out there.’
‘Oh don’t you worry, we’re used to the gales down here on the harbour. Everything gets tied down with a length of polypropylene and a hitch knot.’
‘Was it the knitters again?’
Claude laughed. ‘Must be. Only thing I know was I got up at seven for a delivery and there he was, proud as punch and twice as ugly. Customers have liked him though so he can stay till new year unless he decides to cut his anchor loose and fly off to the North Pole. I’ll be in the bar if you want anything. Just yell.’
‘Thanks again.’ When he’d ambled off, Honor wiggled her feet nearer the stove. Her toes were just about thawing. ‘Do you know, I thought I was lovely and warm on the carriage ride. In the five minutes it took us to get to the pub, I got frozen through again. Must be that wind.’
‘Yup. Never underestimate a wind chill factor. Come here.’ He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. ‘Where are you off to tomorrow then?’
‘I’m driving up to see my family.’
‘Oh, of course. Will you be away long?’
‘I’ll be back on Christmas Eve afternoon in time for the Nine Carols. Are you coming? Verity leads a great service and it’s such a traditional start to the season.’
‘In that case, I may do. What will you do tomorrow?’
‘Oh, presents, a humongous turkey, some family bickering. You know. The usual. Then Mum and Dad are driving down to Southampton on Christmas Eve to board the ship so I’ll follow on, see them off and will drive home afterwards.’
‘Where are they going?’
‘It would be easier to name where they’re not going. Lisbon, then to the Greek Isles, Dubai, Singapore, Sydney and then on to Cape Town.’
‘Wow. That’s some trip.’
‘They’ve been saving like crazy, helped by the fact they haven’t been able to go away as much as usual lately. It’s a real once in a lifetime experience.’
‘Certainly is. And you said you have a sister?’
‘Yes, Blythe. She’s extremely pregnant with her second so we’re having Christmas at Mum and Dad’s. I’m in charge of sorting out leftovers, by which I mean I’ll be piling enough food into the boot to feed a small battalion for the entirety of January.’
