short silence, Carina said, ‘If you’re OK with the situation then I am too.’ Nico couldn’t get her to say more and finally ended the call, still wondering.
He got another beer before he telephoned his dad. Lars wouldn’t be difficult but Nico felt he needed the pick-me-up. He was tired. Strained. His mind kept straying to Hannah but he had to make sure everything was OK surrounding Maria.
Poor little Maria. His heart shifted uncomfortably. She’d come into the world by accident and nobody had made adequate provision for her care. Many kids resulting from contraception failure were born to parents who forgot the pregnancy had been a shock in the joy of the child’s arrival. But some …
Some kids were never welcome.
He rubbed his eyes. Difficult days made him want to eat a huge bar of chocolate to feel better. He wouldn’t, because he didn’t have a huge bar of chocolate in the house – no coincidence, that – and because he knew the urge to purge would hit him within thirty minutes of eating it. He was having nothing to do with that cycle. He’d dumped it in a place labelled ‘the past’.
He picked up his phone again. His dad’s warm, rolling tones would be comforting.
Chapter Seventeen
The sky was inky black over Carlysle Courtyard. Hannah parked the car and jogged into the courtyard, gazing in satisfaction at the black tubs of purple heather and crinkly white brassicas. Christmas lights surrounded the doors and windows of Posh Nosh, Daintree Pottery and Mark’s Models. Paraphernalia’s front window was half-stocked with its highly ornamental stock.
With a rattle like gravel, a shower of hailstones flung themselves into the courtyard, pinging off windows and bouncing on the ground. Hannah hurried into Posh Nosh for her meeting with Perla and Teo, Mark, Daintree, Gina and the others. They were already there when she jogged in brushing hail from her shoulders.
‘Hi. Wintry weather we’re having! Wow, doesn’t it look amazing in here?’ She had to lift her voice over the clatter of hail on windowpanes, gazing at Posh Nosh’s interior in satisfaction. The kitchen gleamed and Wedgwood blue chairs and tables awaited customers. Green swags and red berries hung between so many tiny white lights they looked like fairy dust. ‘Won’t keep you but I want to go over the plans for the Christmas Opening.’ She began to pass out printouts, the hands accepting them matching their owners. Daintree’s nails were rimed with grey clay, Mark’s fingers smeared with glue, Perla and Teo’s hands the kind of clean that came from constant encasement in nitrile gloves and Gina sporting salon-worthy purple talons.
Hannah raised her voice above the ratta-tat of hailstones. ‘We have ten days. Anyone going to struggle? My notes say Fen Stones and Pix & Frames hope to be up and running this weekend and Teo and Perla on Friday.’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Fantastic.’ Hannah beamed. ‘And the rest of you are already open, though visitors are still building. The Christmas Opening should drag the punters in.’ She felt bright and buoyant. ‘Here’s the opening-day running order. At eight a.m. the yellow and green balloon arch will be erected at the end of the drive and a Christmas gazebo in the centre of the courtyard. Hopefully we won’t have hailstones at the time!’
Laughter rippled through those gathered around the rectangular table as the hail increased in volume, crossing the roof in waves.
Hannah continued. ‘Each shop will have a big jar of sweets to offer to customers and I’ve lined up a couple of students to wander about giving out mince pies. Half the gazebo will form Santa’s grotto – Santa and an elf already booked – and I’ll be around to encourage people into shops, also dressed as an elf.’ She paused for laughter before going on. ‘Demos will take place beneath the gazebo. Mark’s constructing a balsawood sleigh at eleven, Teo making chocolate truffles at noon, Daintree—’
‘Ah. Here you are. Good morning,’ boomed a voice.
Hannah swung round to see Christopher and Cassie Carlysle striding down the large room towards them, Christopher beaming, Cassie pinched and apprehensive. Behind trailed a dreamy-looking man with untidy dark hair, reminding Hannah of a taller, better-looking Mr Bean. Beside her Mark muttered, ‘Oh, shit.’
Daintree groaned. ‘Just what we didn’t need.’
Hannah looked sharply from dismayed face to dismayed face. ‘What?’
Before anyone could enlighten her, Christopher drew the dark man forward. ‘Look who’s here!’
A couple of the traders muttered, ‘Hello, Simeon.’
Shock flaring, Hannah stared. ‘Simeon?’
‘Of course! You probably haven’t met our son, have you,