He nodded, cradling his teacup. ‘I got the call when we were in the pub on Sunday but I couldn’t say anything with Josie listening.’ He looked directly at Hannah and added, ‘All there is between Loren and me is Josie and, via kinship link, Maria.’
‘Oh,’ she said. That wasn’t how he’d made it sound over that last uneasy meal in Stockholm but now didn’t seem the time to ask for clarification.
He returned to the immediate issue. ‘I was wondering about bringing our flights forward to tomorrow but I haven’t begun packing yet.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Dad doesn’t seem in immediate danger.’
‘I thought I was having a shitty day but you’ve put it in perspective,’ she said. And remembering how much better she’d felt when Josie had thrown her arms about Hannah, she leaned in and gave him a good hard hug. ‘Why don’t I make soup and sandwiches for us all? Nan loves having kids around. I don’t have to go out again until after two.’
Nico didn’t even pretend to fight this plan. ‘Thank you.’ He followed Hannah into the kitchen, smiling and telling Josie calmly that Farfar wasn’t well so it was a good job they were going to Sweden anyway.
Josie agreed, ‘Good job!’ and turned to Maria with an exaggerated gasp of excitement. ‘We’re going on an aeroplane in two more sleeps!’
Maria made the same noise, beaming, too young to get what was going on but happy at whatever made her sister happy.
Hannah began heating soup while Nan gave Nico and the girls directions on setting the dining table. ‘The one in the kitchen doesn’t have room for us all.’ She observed the obvious warmth and love between Nico and the girls. Happily child-free till now, for the first time she wondered if she’d been missing out.
After a jolly meal, Hannah checked her bank account and saw the second thousand pounds had arrived from Cassie Carlysle – bloody Albin’s money still hadn’t arrived – so she said, regretfully, ‘I have to go up to Carlysle Courtyard.’ She grabbed her laptop and paperwork, eager to get the handover done now she’d been unceremoniously dumped.
Soon she was driving past the cheerful yellow and green Carlysle Courtyard sign with a pang. She parked and found Simeon awaiting her in the office. ‘Right,’ she said crisply, glad she didn’t have to deal with Christopher again or even Cassie. ‘I haven’t had time to prepare this handover so we’ll have to wing it.’
‘Of course. I’m very sorry about this, you know.’ Courteously, Simeon pulled out a seat for her.
It was an empty apology because he could have refused to comply with Christopher reinstating him. ‘Thanks,’ she said, briefly. ‘Bullet points: by the weekend, all the shops will be trading; the Christmas Opening is on the nineteenth.’ She worked through everything she’d slaved over, sharing contact details and her and Nico’s beautiful spreadsheets, then the extensive scheduled social media posts. ‘That’s it,’ she wound up an hour later. ‘You have the log-in details. Posters and flyers need to be distributed. If you have any questions you can text me.’ She scribbled down her phone number.
Then she realised Simeon was gazing at her, a small smile playing around his mouth. ‘Anything else?’ she queried, poised to drag on her coat and shake the dust of Carlysle Courtyard from her boots.
‘Fancy dinner this evening?’ he asked.
She gaped. ‘With you?’
‘There’s a lovely old mill bistro opened near Bettsbrough. Shall we give it a try?’ He smiled boyishly.
It was a perfectly pleasant invitation but it rankled that he didn’t bother to thank her for her hard work and making the handover so easy for him or acknowledge the impact on her income of his return. ‘Thanks, but I’m busy,’ she said, snapping shut her laptop.
He edged closer. ‘Choose your evening.’ He didn’t make it a question.
He reminded her overwhelmingly of Albin – born in comfortable circumstances and regarding ordinary girls as playthings. ‘Good luck with Carlysle Courtyard,’ she said. And left.
Chapter Eighteen
Back in Middledip, she found Nan watching TV and flopped down beside her on the sofa to catch her up on the disheartening events at Carlysle Courtyard. ‘So I won’t be working there any more,’ she concluded with a sigh.
The old lady massaged the fingers of her injured arm and frowned thoughtfully. ‘Christopher isn’t usually so bullish. That boy of theirs, he’s disappointed them so often it’s made him touchy.’
Hannah took over massaging Nan’s fingers, gentle with the loose papery skin and