his face.’
‘Oh, what makes you think that?’
‘Jack’s always been so driven and I’m sure it’s because he wanted his dad to notice him. Even now, when Reg isn’t alive any more, it’s as if he’s still trying to make his dad acknowledge his efforts, the pressure he puts himself under…’ An alert went off in her brain to shut up, that she was talking too much and that Robin might think she was a know-it-all. ‘I may be wrong of course,’ she said to end it.
Office gossip said that when Reg’s wife left him, he pulled up his drawbridge and wouldn’t let feelings in or out, or at least any display of them, as if showing them was akin to showing a soft, vulnerable underbelly and inviting damage.
‘But you know you’re not wrong, don’t you?’ said Robin. Mary was astute beyond her young age, that he could easily tell.
Mary sighed and poured her whisked eggs into a pan with some butter.
‘I just think it’s important to say the words as well, specially to the people who need to hear them most.’
‘Do you really think they matter that much?’ asked Robin, taking interest. ‘Isn’t it enough to show rather than tell?’
‘Yes I do. My dad wasn’t one for slush but it meant a lot that he could say he loved me as well as showing me. I think Jack might have been a bit easier on himself if he’d heard them from Reg. He won’t stop until he conquers the world and yet he’ll never catch the words he’s chasing.’ Another inner warning sounded. She’d talked enough about Jack’s personal business. ‘Shall I open up a couple of cans of those plum tomatoes?’
‘Oh yes, why not.’
Mary’s words turned over in Robin’s mind as surely as he turned over the sausages in the pans.
* * *
Robin and Mary’s Christmas Eve breakfast feast, as Charlie named it, went down a storm. Jack and Luke pushed tables together to make one big one and put six chairs around it for them all to sit at. In the background Radio Brian played, in between his inane ramblings, a series of songs from a bygone age that existed long before the millennium.
‘I can’t remember the last time I had butter that I could actually taste, and on lovely thick white toast,’ declared Charlie, gleefully wiping warm dribbles from his chin. ‘When Robin makes toast – always brown – he scrapes off the excess. And he buys that margarine stuff that is supposed to lower your cholesterol.’
‘It’s been proven to lengthen your life,’ admonished Robin.
‘It’s been proven to make your life feel longer,’ said Charlie.
‘Every little helps.’ Robin bit down on his toast as if taking out his annoyance on it.
‘My grandfather lived all his life eating red meat, cooking with lard, drinking to excess and smoking like a chimney,’ said Luke.
‘There you go, Robin,’ said Charlie. ‘Proof that life is a lottery.’
‘And exactly how old was he when he died?’ asked Robin.
‘Twenty-two,’ said Luke, dissolving into a guffaw. ‘Sorry, it was a joke. He didn’t really, total lie.’
‘How hilarious,’ said Bridge, casting him a look of disdain.
‘I’m just trying to keep things light,’ said Luke, his tone playful. ‘We’re stuck here together, possibly for some considerable time, so we might as well… chill, if you’ll excuse the pun.’
From one side of the room, Radio Brian gave an updated weather report.
‘Don’t be fooled by the fine flurries, heavier snow is forecast after lunch. Looks like we are all going to have a white Christmas this year.’
Chapter 10
After the breakfast plates had been cleared away, they gravitated to the fire, sat around watching the flames, all except Jack who was fiddling with his phone. Luke watched him pressing and swiping at the screen.
‘You can’t leave it alone, can you?’ he remarked.
‘What?’ asked Jack.
‘Your phone. Picking it up and scrolling through pages is not going to miraculously produce a signal.’
‘I just thought I’d check.’
‘We should take this time as a gift,’ Luke went on. ‘What fruits will we all yield from it, I wonder? Maybe it will bring balance to those in whom it is sadly lacking.’
‘How very zen,’ said Bridge with a sniff. ‘But I want to get back to my other half, even if you aren’t in as much of a hurry to get back to yours.’ One-nil to me, she thought.
‘Ouch. Worrying isn’t going to solve this problem, so there’s no point in doing it,’ Luke batted back, as calmly as his voice could manage because