‘Well, my parents are hippies now. To be fair, English people always assume we’re all myths and magic and sheep-shagging,so it probably was a good lie,’ Haf admits, causing Kit to raise an eyebrow.
‘I’m going to get dressed and warm up,’ Kit says, taking the tea Haf made with her.
‘She’s on a weird one, all right.’ Haf sighs. ‘I suppose it’s only fair she has a little fun at our expense.’
‘We should probably go up and get dressed before they come back,’ says Christopher. ‘The last time I was in my pyjamas at lunchtime on Christmas, Dad berated me for being lazy.’
‘Were you being lazy?’ Haf asks as they walk up the stairs.
‘I wasnine.’
When Christopher disappears off for a shower, Haf tries not to shriek at the sting of the cold air against her bare skin. She throws on an oversized fluffy jumper woven with gold sparkles that she had saved for a nice celebration dinner over a leopard print shirt, tucked into a black denim miniskirt.
Really, after all this, she should wear the shagging-reindeer jumper, but she tucks that away, ready for the journey home.
Heading back downstairs, she passes the bathroom where Christopher, freshly pinked from the shower, appears in a haze of mist and peppercorn, towel wrapped around his waist. She wolf-whistles at him, sending him somehow pinker.
Downstairs in the kitchen, she decides to read over the cooking plans, anyway, in case she actually can be useful, before quickly running the mini hoover under the tree to pick up the loose needles, like she’s seen Esther do. If she can’t help make lunch, she can at least keep it tidy. Especially given Esther gave her so much praise about helping out. Anything to assuage her guilt about leading her on about basically everything.
A little while later, she spots Esther and Otto returning up the drive, muddy terriers in tow. Before they left, they’d set out a towel to dry the dogs off, so Haf grabs it, opens the front door and kneels in the porch ready to intercept muddy paws. Stellaand Luna barrel in straight at the towel, burying their heads in it with such force that they almost knock her onto her bum. But after a momentary excitement, they calm down and diligently offer up a paw at a time to be dried off.
Warmed up and armed with a fresh cup of tea from Haf, Esther starts organising in the kitchen. On the counter is an enormous roll of meat.
‘Lamb?’ Haf asks.
‘Venison,’ Esther says, rooting through the fridge.
‘Wow, I’ve never had that before.’
‘It’s very rich, but I’m sure you’ll like it. The venison is Otto’s domain.’ She chuckles. ‘What is it about men and huge hunks of meat?’
‘Something primal, perhaps.’ Haf laughs. ‘Need me to do anything?’
‘Actually, yes. I just sent him out to drop off a little Christmas something with the Howards. You wouldn’t mind grabbing these bits from the pantry and garage?’
She rips off a piece of paper from the notebook in her hand and passes it to Haf.
‘Sure, I’ll go find it all,’ Haf says.
It’s a small list of things with instructions as to where one can find them in the garage, pantry and second freezer, as there are notes likenear the oilandunderneath the ice cream, don’t eat it. She realises this might have been intended for Otto instead of her.
She vaguely remembers the other night when she and Kit dropped off things in the laundry room that there were a few other doors. That must be where she needs to go.
It’s a strange little corridor that feels different to the rest of the house – a little too modern, perhaps. She pauses, working out which door to pick as she doesn’t want to snoop, when one of the doors next to her opens inward.
Out comes a hand, and she’s pulled inside, the door closed softly behind her.
Inside the tiny room, which appears to be a kind of odds-and-ends storage closet, is Kit.
‘Hello?’ Haf whispers. ‘Are you helping me with my list?’
‘Absolutely not.’ She laughs. ‘I’m hiding precisely so I don’t get asked to do things.’
‘What trouble are you making in here, then?’
‘I was throwing my laundry in, but then heard you coming, so decided to scare you.’ She flicks her hair, and with a wolfish smile, she says, ‘You haven’t seen me make trouble yet.’
While she would argue that the mystic mess in the kitchen was definitely Kit making trouble, Haf’s heart catches in her chest. Because this feels like the old Kit. Bookshop Kit.
