“But you can make yourself useful and help me clear snow from the car.”
Eventually, Trevor went back to the table. Only three others remained. Antoni had his head resting in his folded arms, his eyes closed. Frank and Johnny sat next to each other, each with their hands around a mug of tea, each gawping down at the table as though they wanted nothing more than to climb back in bed.
“I want to punch him,” muttered Trevor, dragging out a chair noisily and sitting opposite Frank.
Frank lifted his head then and smiled. Swinging his gaze slowly around to take in Johnny, he nudged his partner’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Hoi! That’s the Bulls’ star player he’s talking about. Says he wants to punch him. Are we going to stand for that?”
“I don’t care who he is,” said Trevor, grimacing.
“Don’t know what everyone sees in the prize fecking prick,” said Johnny, pulling a face. “Body from Baywatch, face from Crimewatch, if you ask me.”
“Do you want to show Mac, or shall I?” asked Frank with a smug grin.
“Show me what?” asked Trevor, his interest piqued.
“Not yet,” said Johnny cryptically. “Wait until the bastard’s airborne. But if it’ll stop you being all uptight, Mac, just know that your Mr Fancy Pants back there will not be bothering you or your man ever again. Not if the shitehawk knows what’s good for him. Nobody—and I mean nobody—fecks with our friends. End of story.”
“Oh, my God,” said Trevor, his jaw falling open. “What have you done?”
Chapter Fifteen
When A Child Is Born
Half an hour later, after Rudy returned with the car, Karl carried a pallid and tired Mary in his arms down the line of sympathetic faces and out to the waiting Rover. Mrs M came back to say hurried goodbyes to everyone. Rudy also came in, mainly to hug Trevor and tell him he’d be straight back. Once the car pulled away, everyone left behind retreated to the heat of the lodge and headed to the living room windows, waiting to watch the spectacle of the plane taking off from the loch.
“And then there were six,” murmured Frank to the darkness.
Someone other than Trevor chuckled.
“Seven when Rudy gets back,” said Trevor. “What time is it?”
“Just after seven-thirty,” said Cheryl.
“Is she okay to fly?” asked Jessica as they stood there listening to the distant thrum of the plane engines warming up.
“Bit late to be asking that now,” said Frank.
“Mum spoke to the obstetrician in Glasgow, who said it’s fine,” said Cheryl. “On commercial jets, pregnant women can usually fly up to around thirty-two to thirty-six weeks into the pregnancy, as long as they’re in good health. But this is a light plane, which flies at much lower altitudes. I just hope there’s no turbulence, for Mary’s sake. Helen says she’ll be fine. It’s a short enough hop.”
“So now we’ve lost the evil twins, our celebrity and, most importantly, our master chef, what are we going to do for food? Me and Johnny existed on hotel food and take-out before we arrived. Don’t suppose they have a pizza delivery service around here?”
“Fat chance,” said Johnny.
“Mac and I can rustle up breakfast,” said Cheryl. “As long as you don’t expect anything fancy. And Mum said there are still cold cuts in the fridge, if we’re okay with that. She’ll be back as soon as she can. Problem is, Mum kept the Aga going and I haven’t a clue how the thing works.”
“Rudy will sort that out,” said Trevor.
“Ant,” said Jessica, nudging Antoni. “Tell them.”
“Tell us what?” said Johnny.
“Go on,” said Jessica, urging Antoni to speak, and when he wouldn’t, she filled them in. “Antoni trained as a chef. Before he got into marketing. Didn’t like the endless hours stuck inside the kitchen. But he can cook brilliantly. Tell them, Ant?”
“I’d be happy to cook for you. I never said anything because Mrs M’s home cooking is the best. Simple and delicious. And, to be honest, sometimes it’s nice not to have to cook. But, yes, I do enjoy being in the kitchen sometimes, and if you want, me and Jessica will take over food duties. Bit easier now that we don’t have to worry about putting vegetarian meals on the table. Once we’ve seen the plane off—kind of looking forward to that—I’ll get started on breakfast.”
“Antoni,” said Frank, putting his arm around him, “you have just become my new best friend. If it weren’t for the fact that Jessica would punch me in the face, I’d give you a kiss right now.”
