“No, I didn’t. I told him I liked him, but that’s all. He instigated the kiss.”
“And you kissed him back?”
“Yes, I kissed him back. I’m not stupid. You’re missing the point. He’s not gay.”
“Do you like him?”
“Of course I like him. I told you already, he’s my fantasy book hero come to life.”
“Then if he likes you, I don’t see the problem.”
“We had a moment, that’s all. I’m not throwing myself at him and making a fool of us both.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Cheryl, you of all people know how much I’ve humiliated myself in this world. I’m not about to add another notch to that particular screw-up belt.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“In a mushy pile of blood and guts at the bottom of the Lover’s Leap.”
“Stop bickering, you two,” came Mrs M’s voice from behind them, “and help me clear the table, while the rest are occupied. Then I’m going to turn in and leave you to it.”
Trevor found that moving about and keeping busy helped take his mind off Rudy. By the time they had cleaned all surfaces and brewed coffee, those who had ventured outside began drifting back to their seats, complaining about the bitter cold, the short-lived euphoria about snowfall over. Trevor noticed Rudy making an effort to keep everyone entertained, the man of the hour, and he barely acknowledged Trevor. A couple of times Trevor observed a slightly drunk and smiling Jessica leaning into Rudy, but then later she seemed to transfer her affections to Antoni.
As the evening wore on, everyone except Mrs M made their way to the living area to watch the animated winter scenery from the warmth and comfort of the lodge. Cheryl, sitting next to Trevor, must have decided to liven things up, because she leapt up from her seat and stood in front of them.
“Frank, Johnny,” she said, swaying along to the Christmas song. “Come on. Karaoke time. I brought a playlist. Are you up for the challenge?”
Rudy sat next to Mary, gaping up at Cheryl. Trevor noticed Karl roll his eyes, familiar with Cheryl’s antics.
“Karaoke,” said Antoni, his eyes growing wide. “Sick. I’m in.”
“Hang on, Antoni. You may want to hear Cheryl out,” said Frank, making Johnny laugh, then addressing Cheryl. “Can we choose our own songs, Cher?”
“Of course you can. As long as they’re on the playlist.”
“And who put this playlist together?”
Trevor laughed, knowing where Frank was going with his questioning. Same thing every year. And just as well, too. He did not want to end up making an arse of himself singing out of key in front of Rudy.
“I did, of course. All my favourite songs of all time without the lead vocal.”
“And all in your personal key?” asked Frank.
“Of course,” said Cheryl. “How else am I supposed to practice?”
“You see, Antoni. This Christmas tradition is not so much karaoke as it is the Cheryl Madison show. None of the songs will be in our key, I guarantee. So guess who ends up singing solo all evening?”
“We’ll pass this year, thanks, Cher,” said Johnny.
“Spoilsports,” she said, screwing her face up and plonking herself down beside Trevor.
Instead of watching Cheryl sing, the crowd went back to their conversations. Sometime later, when Trevor looked over, Rudy seemed to be enjoying keeping Frank, Johnny, Mary and Karl entertained—something for which Trevor could hardly feel anything but gratitude. Out of loyalty and solidarity, Cheryl stayed beside Trevor, but when she yawned for the fourth time, he ordered her to bed. In two minds whether to do the same, he resolved to talk to Rudy once he could get him alone. He needed to know where they stood. All night he agonised over what to say and fretted about whether he should go to Rudy or whether he should let Rudy come to him. Eventually, just after midnight, with a backdrop of flurried snow, Trevor and Rudy ended up as the last two souls remaining, sat either end of the settee. They had not spoken since entering the living area.
“How did you get here tonight?” asked Trevor, throwing out an olive branch before taking a nervous swig from his beer bottle.
“In the Rover.”
