odd couple, Charlie so much more refined than Robin, Robin so much younger and yet, from early deductions, it seemed as if they fitted together like a dovetail joint; banter passing between them as if whacked over a net by a tennis racket, back and forth in an endless joyful rally.
Mary emerged from the kitchen behind the bar with a large silver tray set with refreshments.
‘I couldn’t find biscuits so I hope mince pies will do,’ she called out ahead of her arrival.
‘Ooh, mince pies,’ said Charlie.
‘The good news is that we aren’t going to starve, I can assure you of that,’ said Mary. ‘The larder and cupboards are absolutely crammed full back there. And I’ve got the coffee machine up and running, so this is fresh from the bean.’
Jack walked to her to take the weight of the tray and set it down on a table. Charlie immediately reached for a mince pie and Robin slapped his hand.
‘If I weren’t here to steer you, you’d end up crashed on the shore,’ he said to his husband.
‘Robin. It’s medicinal. I need calories,’ came the response.
‘Medicinal my arse,’ said Robin with a humph, but he didn’t stop Charlie’s hand when it reached out the second time.
They all sat quietly, sipping the coffee, biting into the buttery pastry of the mince pies. None of them realised they were as hungry as they were until they started munching.
‘I don’t know if it’s because I was desperate for a coffee and a bite to eat or you’re an angel in disguise, but this tastes divine,’ said Charlie. ‘Thank you, Mary. And what a very Christmassy name you have, may I say. Like my Robin.’
‘That’s because I was born on Christmas Day,’ replied Mary. ‘Mary Holly Clementine Padgett. I’m just glad my parents stopped there. Mum said that Dad wanted to squeeze in a poinsettia as well.’
‘Oh you are funny, Mary,’ said Charlie, having a chortle at that.
‘Is it really your birthday on Christmas Day?’ asked Jack.
‘Yep,’ said Mary, trying not to let her nip of hurt show, that he didn’t even know that fact after she’d been working for him for four full years. She knew his birthday was on the twelfth of February, she always sent him a card that she’d spent time choosing.
‘Well, if we’re still here, we’ll have a party for you,’ said Charlie. It was a joke of course. It was unthinkable that they would all still be there on Christmas Day.
‘What line of work are you in, Bridge?’ asked Robin.
‘Land and property,’ she answered him. ‘I buy derelict houses to renovate, but mostly I buy cheap auction lots of land that no one wants and try to sell them on.’
‘That sounds like a lot of gambling,’ said Jack.
‘It is, but I’m prepared to play a long game for a good profit.’
‘Are you very successful?’ asked Jack in a way that implied he doubted it.
‘Very,’ she replied.
She’d been badly advised in the beginning, at a time when she wanted to prove to the world that she was in control of things, knew what she was doing when she didn’t at all. Buy that plot of land and you will get planning permission on it, trust me, said someone whose word she did trust at the time, until she realised he was a friend of the person who owned the land and the pair of them were laughing up their sleeves when her bid was successful. She’d sunk everything she had into that land. All because she wanted to be the big ‘I am’, and show Luke Palfreyman that she was doing fine without him, had a life plan, was as good at big business as he was proving to be.
Then Derbyshire county council approached her because they wanted to open up the adjacent plot of green-belt land for building, but they’d need her plot to use for access. It had to be a miracle that suddenly she was the one laughing, signing on the dotted line, banking the big cheque. That experience made her a little more savvy as well as rich. From then on, she did her homework properly, trusted no one blindly. Some plots of land were still in her portfolio, useless fields that she rented out for peanuts to people with cows or horses, but she could afford to wait for tides to turn. She had an inbuilt radar for a good investment and she had no idea where it had come from, but she was glad