Page 47 of Escape for Christmas
‘Sicily was our first proper holiday without one of our grown-up children,’ Una said sadly. Sophie noticed that she’d changed into a sparkly jumper, while Hugo was still comfortable in his fleece. ‘That’s why we’re here now, really. Both our children aren’t spending Christmas with us this year. Our daughter’s going to stay with her new partner’s parents in Norfolk.’
‘And our son is a doctor in London, so he’s on duty over the holiday,’ Hugo added gloomily.
‘Andwe lost our dog in November. He was a yellow Lab and thirteen,’ Una sniffled.
The other guests offered their condolences, and Sophie’s own heart went out to the couple. Christmas must have felt very desolate to them this year, after being used to having the family and their beloved dog there.
‘We couldn’t face Christmas on our own,’ Hugo explained. ‘I know it sounds silly, but there doesn’t seem much point, now the kids have flown the nest and there’s no Archie to beg for turkey at the dinner table, so we thought we’d get away from it altogether. Do something different, rather than even trying to make it the same.’
‘Plus, we love walking, it’s a great location and Sophie’s plans sounded like fun,’ Una added.
There were more sympathetic murmurs. ‘It’s a lot more fun than spending another Christmas at my cousin’s!’ Agatha declared. ‘I lost my dear husband just over a year ago, and my cousin insisted I must spend Christmas with her and her partner. They’re good souls, but they told me I couldn’t spend the season moping around. They wanted me to watch the King’s speech and stand up for the national anthem!’
‘I don’t mind watching it, but that sounds a bit much,’ agreed Una.
Nico caught Sophie’s eye and winked. She smiled back and hung around, listening to Agatha.
‘It is, on top of all that bloody turkey. I’d rather fall asleep over my book or some trash on TV. Ron – my latehusband – and I used to take the opportunity to watch rubbish on the telly and eat our own weight in cheese. We never had turkey. Ron was a great cook and he’d rustle up something like a moussaka or risotto. We loved our holidays in the Med, doing a bit of sightseeing and eating out by the harbours together …’
Sophie smiled, understanding now why Agatha had been so attracted to the Spanish theme and to not spending Christmas with her rather patronising cousin, however well-meaning she was.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Suzanne said from the leather armchair, where she’d pulled a blanket over her legs. Sophie winced inwardly. It was Jingle’s blanket. How could it have got into the guest lounge? Suzanne’s black sweater-dress had already attracted white cat hairs, but luckily she didn’t seem to have noticed.
‘How long were you married?’ Suzanne asked Agatha.
‘Forty-nine years, give or take. We met at a bus stop in the pouring rain when we were both on our way to job interviews. We looked like drowned rats, but it didn’t seem to put either of us off. I had to give him the number of my landlady; not that she would allow a man in my digs. Things were so different back in those days.’
Nico laughed deeply and his warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Sounds like love at first sight, Agatha.’
‘I suppose it was,’ she agreed, gazing momentarily at the fire. ‘Hmm, well, enough of me boring you. I suppose you must all be escaping Christmas for some reason. What aboutyou, young man? I’d have thought you’d have had a string of young women begging you to fill their stocking?’
Instantly, the room went silent. Sophie sprang into action. ‘I think it’s time for the sangria! I’ll be back in a moment.’
‘Want a hand?’ Nico offered with a look that said:please help me escape.
‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you,’ Agatha said.
‘Not at all. I’m finding it all hugely entertaining.’
‘And you’ll tell us all why you’re escaping when you come back?’ Agatha commented.
Nico gave an enigmatic smile and followed Sophie to the kitchen.
Once in the fragrant warmth of the room, he sniffed the air with a happy sigh. ‘That smells good,’ he said.
‘It’s thecroquetas,’ Sophie replied, happy that her food was being appreciated. ‘They’ve been warming in the oven.’
‘Sounds delicious.’
‘Please ignore the mess. It is clean, though!’ she added, feeling Nico occupying every inch of space in her modest but well-equipped kitchen. ‘This is normally out of bounds to guests, but I thought you might need a break.’
He smiled at her, flashing his perfect teeth. Perhaps hewasa model. ‘It’s fine, honestly. It’s fun and you’re a great host.’
‘Are you – er – in publishing by any chance?’ Sophie asked him.
‘Publishing?’ He frowned. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘Just a hunch. Guesswork. I sometimes try to work out what my guests do for a living. Which sounds weird, now I’ve said it out loud. It’s simply that you get to meet so many people, running a guest house, which I love. But forget I said anything. Honestly, it’s not my business. Or anyone’s …’ She was digging a deeper hole by the second, although being in such close proximity to Nico was enough to make anyone flustered.
