Niobe nodded, and went back down the hall to the workshop and her own work, while Annice forged out into the rain. By the time she got home, she was soaked, and by the time she’d had a hot bath and changed, she’d almost forgotten about the journal question. Griffin had heated up steak and ale pies, and was settled at the kitchen table. He set aside the book he’d been reading as soon as Annice appeared. “Warmer?”
“Much. I appreciate these floors more every day.” Even if she’d also put somewhat worn slippers on, it was more for the top of her feet than the bottom. She slipped into the chair on her side of the table, considering for a moment. “I had a thought today. And also Niobe suggested I ask you something.”
Griffin looked up. “And you’re not sure about either of them.”
It would be annoying, but Annice was actually becoming rather comfortable with how Griffin got to the heart of the problem. It was relaxing to know he’d say what he saw with her as accurately as he could. “Yes.” She considered her options and went for what was probably the shorter conversation. “She said I should ask you about getting a journal.”
“I would be delighted to get you one as a gift,” Griffin said, immediately. “They really are quite useful, and it would simplify things. Even just when you’re upstairs working and you want to be on your own for a bit, I could let you know that supper’s ready without shouting upstairs.”
“Or when you’re going to be working late,” Annice agreed. “I. I shouldn’t let you get one for me.”
“Look, how about I get in touch with them, and see if there are any that - for whatever reason - are a little less dear? They do now make some by special order, and sometimes people change their minds, or something is a little imperfect in the art of the book. If you’re using it with a cover, like I do, that barely matters.”
“Of course you know the people who make them.” Annice sighed. “Are you going to invite them to dinner?”
“In this case, no. Mostly because they’re as busy as we are, and they’ve a new baby. But we might go round the shop together. I’ll write and see when might be convenient. And we might see them on May Day, depending on the crowds.”
Annice wanted to come back to May Day, but the way Griffin had answered that made her think of something else. “You know many people in Trellech. But I’m not clear on, erm. Friends? Friendships.”
There was a silence, long enough that Annice looked up cautiously. Griffin was sitting, palms flat on the wood. Then he took a breath, deliberate. “I have a few. But mostly they have their own lives, their own places. Or their schedules are chaos. Antimony, for example.”
“Who has both a varying schedule and a family. Though mostly grown up now, yes?” Annice had picked up that much, among the various other comments.
“Like that. And people’s houses, they have stairs and all. I don’t mind dealing with the canes, but it’s awkward to have to ask and check, or figure out the best way to get across town. Or whatever. It’s solvable, it’s just…” He shrugged. “Tedious.”
“So, if we set things up to invite people here, a little more often. If we got a table, something we could move out of the way, we could have people over.”
Griffin swallowed. “We.” Then he nodded. “If you’d like that.”
“I thought maybe a circular table. And it could live in the nook with your bookshelves and the chairs, most of the time. You usually use your canes going there. And then two more chairs, match the ones in the kitchen, and two people could come over.” She’d been nervous about suggesting it, but Griffin was smiling slowly.
“I like that. You’re better with shapes than I am. I kept trying to make something rectangular and big enough fit, but circular would work better. And on wheels, so you could move it on your own? That’s the other problem.”
“That’s a thing we could ask Seth about, right? Either circular or something that folds up. Um, those ones that have a flap or two that comes out. One of those, with everything folded up, it could go right behind the sofa and not take up much space unless we wanted a table.” Now that she was thinking about it properly, she could think of several options. Even for the chairs, which were admittedly complicated to have out of the way. And she could see why he hadn’t considered that sort of solution when it was just him. But she could fold and unfold a table easily.
“I’ll write to Seth and get him round to do some measurements. And I enjoy giving him business, anyway, for all he’s got a lot more steady work these days.” Griffin looked very pleased, three ways round.
“And then maybe have him and his wife and Golshan round as the first guests? Since Golshan brings his own chair?” Annice was pressing a little now, but she was doing it for good reason. It made Griffin laugh and just nod, so it was just the right amount, then.
That topic dealt with, Annice poked at one of the bits of steak in her pie, chewing and swallowing before she asked, carefully, “While we’re talking about people, what’s my part, for May Day? We didn’t do anything in Whitby, in public, beyond the ordinary things. The not magical ones, I mean.”
“Here, well, the magic’s the thing. There’s a procession from the Courts and Guard Hall up north, through the streets, through the market, to the front of the Temple of Healing, then through into the gardens. There’s music and dancing - well, dancing for other people. I need to be there for the whole thing. Nestor and his wife, Harriet and her family, the other senior staff will all be there. A fair number of the judges process. Many of them like a good procession. You needn’t, if you’d rather not. Or we could plan for you to meet up with someone who has less of the pomp and bother. Niobe maybe, or someone she knows.” Now he leaned an elbow on the table, and Annice suspected he was working through lists of potential people in his head.
“Are there other things to know about for the summer?” She hesitated. “And, um. I’ve never asked. When’s your birthday? Or have you had one already since I met you?”
“Not yet!” Griffin said it cheerfully. “June thirteenth. I’d be delighted to spend it with you, in whatever form appeals.”
Annice blinked. “Mine’s June twenty-eighth. All right.” Mentally, now, of course, she was wondering if Niobe had known. And whether there was in fact enough time she could finish at least one of the chalcedony pieces as a gift. She could always do something out of jet. She could go back to Whitby and find something to carve, and she’d probably do that too. But the chalcedony kept haunting her. The milky blue had a compelling quality to it, entirely like a ghost made of solid stone.
Griffin was just glowing. “And you’ll permit me to plan something you’ll enjoy, for the occasion, then? Though, erm.” He swallowed, and she found the way he was suddenly cautious about plans that far ahead endearing now. “That’s also the Midsummer Faire. You’d enjoy it, I think. I’d need to plan out a bit of how to handle it. It’s something that needs the crutches, rather than the chair, unless I barely want to move all day. But we can plan for that.”
“Livestock shows, and um, matches?”
“Livestock shows - honestly, I rather like watching the sheep? They’re delightfully fluffy and soothing, somehow. Pavo and bohort matches, both, a horse show, a pulling contest. And then all sorts of halls and tents with plants and crafters, others with performances. Dancing and a concert or two every evening, too, and quite a lot of good food and drink. I can get my hands on one of the pamphlets. They have maps and lists of what’s going on when.”
Annice took a breath and nodded. “Let’s make plans for that, then.” It was one more step in admitting what she couldn’t quite put into words, and what Griffin was carefully not asking her yet. “Um. Something Niobe said today got me thinking. We were talking about the range of properties of stones, the way some of them are fairly consistent, and others vary. I was wondering how you thought about that with the people you work with. Especially Nestor and Harriet.”
“Huh.” Griffin rubbed his nose. “That’s an interesting question.” He took a breath. “Lamont - look, I think I’m right when I say he currently favours me, but he didn’t actually say it right out. It’s complicated, and it’s hard to find words for. Even me.” He looked rather forlorn at that, and Annice reached over to pat his hand. Griffin went on. “I think maybe he likes me best to talk to, but that’s not the thing he should be deciding on.”
