I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Milly Johnson Page 0,13
jealous about it. She still is and it’s been ten years since they got divorced. In fact she’s worse now than she was then. She can’t let it go.’
‘Yes, well, neither of us wants to be like that.’
‘Much better to be sensible and cut finally and cleanly,’ said Mary, nodding with a sagacity that belied her age.
Bridge snapped out a paper towel to dry her hands. ‘Do yourself a favour, love, and stay single. The St Georges of today are the dragons of tomorrow.’
Which was an odd thing to say for someone about to get married to a new partner, thought Mary as she followed Bridge out.
Chapter 5
‘Anyone fancy a coffee?’ asked Mary, when they rejoined the others. The fire had taken hold of the logs now, flames licking upwards with golden eagerness. Outside, the snow was falling relentlessly and it all looked very festive on both sides of the bar lounge windows. The whole indoor scene could quite happily have sat on a Christmas card if it wasn’t for the five disgruntled, inconvenienced faces; Jack’s claiming first prize.
‘Yes, I’ll have one, love. Shall I come and help you?’ said Robin.
‘No, it’s fine,’ said Mary. ‘I think I can manage a few coffees.’ It was what she did, after all. She made a lot of coffees in her job, arranged a lot of biscuits on plates. At least Jack always said thank you, however distracted he was, unlike his father Reg.
‘If you can find any biscuits backstage, I’d be awfully grateful,’ said Charlie with a cheeky, hopeful grin.
‘Cholesterol!’ barked Robin.
‘Oh shut up, you miserable queen,’ replied Charlie and flapped his hand at his much younger husband.
‘You can have one, if Mary finds some,’ Robin relented.
‘I’m starving. I saved up my calories for the lovely meal we were going to have in Aviemore tonight. I’ve only had a porridge in the service station. It was supposed to be maple syrup flavoured,’ Charlie explained to Bridge. ‘Tasted of fish to me.’ He pulled a face and she laughed. As people to be trapped in a deserted inn with went, Charlie would have been a good choice, she thought. He had a benign air and twinkly, mischievous bright blue-grey eyes.
Bridge was peckish too. She hadn’t eaten all day because the thought of meeting Luke had wiped away any appetite she might have otherwise had. She regretted not stoking up on breakfast at the Hilton where she was staying. She wondered where he was now. Maybe he was holed up in some service station. Maybe he’d broken down and was currently freezing his nuts off in the driver’s seat of his no doubt very posh and totally impractical car. It would serve him right, just for being Luke Palfreyman. She also hoped he was safe.
‘Well this is very Agatha Christie,’ said Charlie, after a few minutes of them staring silently into the mesmerising, dancing flames. ‘And then there were five. One by one, we’ll be getting picked off by a murderer who sits among us. Or perhaps is presently hiding in the cellar.’
‘You’ll be the first victim, I bet,’ said Robin. ‘We’ll all be queueing to shut you up before too long.’
Charlie chuckled.
‘So what line of business are you in then, Jack?’ asked Robin.
‘Scones,’ came the reply.
‘Ooh, I would kill for a buttered scone right now,’ said Charlie with relish.
‘You’re getting a biscuit with any luck, be grateful for that,’ Robin said in reply, before turning back to Jack. ‘Just scones? Nothing else?’
‘Just scones. Different recipes for home and export and different flavours but all just scones,’ Jack answered him. ‘What about you two?’
‘I was a jeweller before I retired,’ said Charlie. ‘Mainly I dealt in diamonds. I always had an instinctive eye for quality.’ He turned his eyes towards Robin.
‘I was his chauffeur,’ said Robin with a sniff. ‘I’ll tell you before he does, because he will try and insinuate that I married him for his money.’
Charlie hooted with laughter. ‘Anyone who has been in my company for more than five minutes, though, will realise that it must have been my sparkling personality that drew you in first and foremost, before my sparkling diamonds.’
‘Yes, and I’ve been promoted via marriage to general dogsbody,’ said Robin, dryly. ‘Charlie is twenty-four years my senior and we’ve been together for thirty-two years. We’ve had a lot of pleasure out of proving all the cynics who said it would never last completely wrong, haven’t we, Charlie?’