‘So you have everything you need?’
‘I do.’
‘And it’s warm enough? The housekeeper can get you more blankets if you need them.’
‘I think I’ll be okay. I’m used to the cold winters.’ She smiled at him.
He laughed and pushed his hand through his hair again – his little habit, it seemed.
‘Those from California aren’t so lucky. I’m still acclimating. Those winds are brutal.’
‘Gloves, hats and thermals are the thing for the wind,’ she offered.
‘Yes, I have it all from our ski lodge in Aspen but it’s different when you’re trying to exist in it and not flying down runs, hot from the exercise.’
Christa didn’t know what to say to that. Skiing in Aspen was so far away from her reality.
‘All right then, I’ll go get my things,’ she said and she turned and closed the door behind her.
When she returned from the car with her things, she had peered out the window of her room to see fog covering extensive lawns and the beautiful silhouettes of trees in the dusk. Hopefully, she would have time to walk the property, she thought as she pulled on her work pants and chef whites then slipped on her clogs and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
It was nearly four in the afternoon, and Christa wondered what she should make for dinner since Paul had given her carte blanche in the kitchen.
The fridges were filled with fresh vegetables and more cheese than she thought was possible for the small number of inhabitants of the house.
Another fridge held meat and then another wine. It was ridiculous, she thought, thinking of all the meals she could make with this food to give to those who needed it most.
She pulled out packages marked salmon, duck, quail and goat.
‘Bloody Nora,’ she said.
‘Who’s Nora?’ she heard a voice say and turned to see the twins behind her.
‘Whoever bought all this food. It’s enough for a formal dinner every night until the middle of next year.’
‘It wasn’t Nora, it was Peggy – she’s the housekeeper. Dad gave her a list of everything he thought we might need.’
‘What happens if we don’t eat it all?’ she asked. This was as much as they would order for a weekday lunch at the restaurant. How on earth would they get through it all?
‘They throw it out I guess,’ said one of the boys with a shrug.
Christa closed the fridge with a sigh.
‘I’m Christa,’ she said.
‘I’m Seth,’ said one of the boys. They were blonde, thin, with dark eyes, and utterly identical except one had a small freckle on his cheekbone.
‘And I’m Ethan,’ said the other.
‘Really?’ Christa crossed her arms. ‘I went to school with twin girls who were always messing about and pretending to be the other. It’s part of your DNA to play tricks on people.’
They laughed. ‘Nah it’s the other way around but you won’t remember anyway. Dad has never got us right.’
Christa saw a flicker in their faces and she studied them closely.
‘I will try my best to remember who is who,’ she said. ‘You,’ she pointed at the one with the freckle on his cheekbone. ‘Are Seth.’
He looked at her suspiciously. ‘How can you tell?’
