they’re winding down for the day. Crunching over the garden, I size up the entrance to the igloo. The large slab of ice produced when he cut out the doorway has been sawn in half and placed in an upside-down V-shape across the entrance, making a sort of awning.
‘You’ve thought of everything,’ I say, pointing at it.
‘It’s extra protection against the winter weather,’ he says, and I duck down as he ushers me in first. Switching on my phone light, I gaze around the interior in awe.
‘This is just amazing!’
I plop down on the large airbed, among the cushions, while Ronan pulls candles out of his pocket and hunkers down to light them. They’re small tea-lights. I pull up the wicks and hand each one to him to light, and I start arranging them in the shape of a Christmas star on the igloo floor, in the space between the airbed and the doorway.
Ronan pours us drinks, then he subsides onto the other side of the airbed, stretching out his long legs and raising his plastic cup to me.
‘Chink,’ he says, in the absence of a glassy sound.
‘Chink,’ I reply, smiling back and feeling suddenly shy, now that we’re alone together in this incredibly romantic place. Candlelight from the dozen or so tea-lights flickers on the walls and on our faces, bathing everything in a warm glow, and I gaze around at Ronan’s carefully constructed walls. ‘Honestly, it’s incredible.’
‘Aw, shucks.’ He grins, dropping down on his elbow, lying on his side facing me, head propped up on his hand. ‘It’s okay. Not quite the architectural masterpiece I was aiming for.’
‘Well, I think it’s a masterpiece.’
‘Glad you approve. More gin?’
‘No! I’ve already had mulled wine. I’ll be crashing out right here if I drink much more.’
I feel a bit prim and proper, perched on the airbed as if I’m in the process of being interviewed. Especially compared to Ronan, who’s stretched out lazily. I’d like to lounge like he’s doing but something’s holding me back.
I pick up my drink and take a large swallow. Some of it goes down the wrong way and I start to cough, and Ronan reaches over to slap me on the back.
‘Okay?’ he asks, and I nod, my cough turning into a giggle as the alcohol warms my insides and I relax a little.
I flop down, mirroring his position. ‘If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone?’
‘Okay.’ He glances curiously at me.
‘Well.’ I take another sip of my delicious rhubarb gin and tonic. ‘There is someone living next-door. Anita and I just saw them.’
He frowns. ‘Who?’
‘Reenie Lennox.’
‘The woman who owns the house? But I thought she’d left. Why have I never seen her?’
‘Because she only comes out at night.’ I shrug at his puzzled expression. ‘Don’t ask me why. She wouldn’t talk to us. She just shut the door. In our faces.’
‘Maybe she just doesn’t want to see anyone.’
‘Yes, but why?’
He shakes his head.
‘She’s in trouble, I’m sure. And I really want to help her.’
‘I’m sure you would,’ he murmurs, his mouth curving into a smile.
My insides flip over at the way he’s looking at me. ‘What? You think I’m mad, don’t you?’
‘No. I’m just thinking how lovely you are. You’ve never even met Reenie Lennox but you want to help her. That level of caring is fairly unique, Carrie.’ He looks away, his smile suddenly fading. ‘In my experience, at any rate.’
I stare at his profile, the rigid jawline, wondering what inner demons have caused this sudden shift in mood. The idea that Ronan Mackay thinks I’m ‘lovely’ is making my heart skip along like a child on Christmas Eve. I thought I was just a bit of a nuisance that he had to put up with to get temporary accommodation!
But my pleasure is dampened slightly by the mournful way he’s gazing at the cluster of candles.
‘Why - ’ My voice breaks and I clear my throat. ‘What happened to make you come here in the first place?’
He lifts his eyes to mine and I wait, hardly breathing.
Then his mouth hitches at one corner into a bitter smile. ‘What happened? I climbed a tree, glanced through my best mate’s window and saw my girlfriend Amy on his living room floor. With Tom on top of her.’
I stare at him wordlessly, taking it in.
‘She told me she broke a glass and Tom was helping her to pick up the pieces. But seriously…?’
I find my voice. ‘He wasn’t picking up the pieces?’
‘Er,