Elsa replied with a sound that was difficult to interpret, but when Arthur invited her to follow him into the kitchen she didn’t turn and run back down the drive, so it could have been worse.
I tapped on Elliot’s bedroom door before retreating upstairs.
‘Hi!’ he said, confusion creasing his brow. Which was fair enough; it was the first time I’d knocked since moving in.
‘Are you running later?’ I asked, quietly.
‘Yes.’ He checked his phone. ‘Yes.’
‘Elsa’s here for her pretend meeting that’s really dinner with Arthur, and he’s gone a bit… Arthur. Might be worth you checking for signs she’s okay when you walk through the kitchen.’
‘Right.’ He nodded seriously. ‘What do I… how do I? What signs?’
‘Does she seem uncomfortable, is Arthur respecting her personal space, that kind of thing.’
Elliot blinked a couple of times. ‘I… don’t know. I’m really not great at reading signals. Why don’t you check in on them?’
I shook my head. ‘Arthur’s already annoyed with me for interfering and, as he put it, “smothering the romantic vibe” with my negativity. I’d need a credible excuse to go in there. But I can’t, in all good conscience, leave Elsa to Arthur’s “love inferno”.’
Elliot thought for a moment, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. ‘You could come with me.’
‘On your run? I did say a credible excuse.’
‘I owe you a walk.’
I looked at him, my turn to be confused.
‘Last week, when we cooked together, I invited you to come on a walk that never happened.’ He pushed open his bedroom door wider so I could see the note stuck on the inside.
You owe Jessie a walk.
‘So you do.’
The sight of that note made my throat ache. Sadness, guilt, pleasure that Elliot still wanted to be my friend? I had no idea any more.
‘Credible enough?’
‘It’s perfect.’
* * *
I met Elliot outside the kitchen door a while later, him having set an alarm on his phone so he’d remember to leave half an hour earlier than normal. It was starting to get chilly, so I’d added a denim jacket on top of my playsuit.
‘Oh, hi Elsa,’ Elliot said as he walked into the room. ‘I’d forgotten you were coming over. I hope I’m not disturbing your meeting. Dinner.’ He scanned the room, still about 70 per cent flower petals. ‘Confetti demonstration?’
‘Oh, no, that’s fine!’ Elsa beamed, putting down her fork. ‘Arthur was just talking me through the key stages of preparing someone for a funeral.’
‘Hello,’ I added, silently praying that the ‘someone’ he was talking about was the deceased’s loved ones, rather than the deceased. Although that would have been bad enough.
‘Oh, hey Jessie,’ Elsa added. ‘I forgot you lived here. Oh – we’re not kicking you out of your own kitchen, are we? Please don’t feel like you have to stay out of the way. I mean… obviously, this is your kitchen. You don’t need my permission to be here. Not that I was trying to grant permission! I just meant that you mustn’t feel awkward. Not that you need me to tell you how to feel, of course! Invalidating people’s feelings is the worst. Well, not the worst… Accidentally bumping into the coffin while conducting a funeral and it toppling onto the floor was worse…’
Elliot raised one eyebrow at me, as if asking whether Elsa was sending out a signal that she wanted us to stay. Arthur, of course, was about as subtle as ever.
‘Actually, while Elsa is trying to be her usual kind self in conveying that you’re welcome to join us, it would be a lot easier if you went elsewhere,’ he said, the curls on his crown bristling. ‘Elsa and I have a private matter to discuss.’
I glanced at Elsa, who was using my trick of bending down to pet Penny so we couldn’t see her expression.
‘We’re actually going a walk,’ I replied. ‘Unless you’d rather we stayed, Elsa? The more the merrier, and all that.’
