Myles looked at him, at the tree, at Flora and finally at Eve who gave him a gentle smile.
‘No thanks, I came down for food.’ He gave the tree one more glance and then turned and left the doorway; Edward heard the door to the kitchen slam.
‘What a shame he didn’t stay,’ whispered Eve to him as she walked to his side.
‘No that was good,’ said Edward, feeling his hopes rise more than he thought they could in relation to Myles.
‘He hasn’t come out in weeks. He came to see you – it’s a good thing.’
Eve looked at Edward and nodded but she frowned.
‘But I won’t always be here, so what happens after Christmas? When you’ve finished your book? I can’t be the only reason he leaves his room.’
Edward chewed the inside of his lip and shrugged. ‘I guess you’ll just have to stay forever,’ he said and laughed a little.
Eve went back to her work on decorating the tree but Edward knew she was right. Eve couldn’t be the only reason for Myles to come out of hiding. But as he watched her reaching up to hang an ornament, he could see a sliver of white skin on her back where her jumper rode up, and he wanted her with an intensity that surprised him.
He wanted her to stay, to be in his bed, to spend time with his children, to guide him on his work, to challenge him and to love him.
‘Do you want more wine?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice steady as he watched her.
‘No thanks.’ She smiled at him and he felt his body respond.
He rushed to the kitchen and saw Myles standing by the sink, illuminated by the light of the refrigerator and picking at a cold roast chicken.
He didn’t want to scare him away but he also didn’t want to pretend he didn’t see him.
‘Isn’t Eve great?’ he said as he opened the butler’s pantry door and came out with a bottle of wine.
Myles shrugged.
‘She’s okay,’ he said.
‘She likes you very much,’ he said.
‘Cool,’ Myles replied and glanced at the bottle in Edward’s hand. Edward couldn’t read his tone. He had never been able to read Myles’s tone. That was part of the problem, but only part.
Edward looked down at the wine bottle and then at Myles.
‘I might have a mineral water instead,’ he said lightly and went back into the pantry and put the wine away.
When he came back into the kitchen, Myles was gone. Only the roast chicken carcass was left and the refrigerator door was still open.
The ghost of chickens past, he thought as he put it in the rubbish bin and closed the fridge.
He was lonely, he realised now. Perhaps that explained his attraction to Eve. She was someone new besides Hilditch. Someone younger and more beautiful and completely off limits. That was it, he told himself firmly. That was all it was. Nothing more.
18
For three days Edward wrote for his life. His routine was working and Eve was editing and managing Serena from her perch in New York.
‘When can I read it?’ she asked Eve.
‘Not yet – he said he wants you to have the whole thing,’ Eve said as Flora lay on the floor of the snug looking at a picture book of dolls from around the world.
Eve had bought it in town, trying to get Flora’s head out of the morbid garden of Cranberry Cross littered with dolls buried in the snow.
So far it seemed to be working. Flora was quite taken with the dolls from Africa and then asked if they were left in the desert for their mummies to find.