‘Coffee?’
Helena Grant opened her eyes, and wondered where she was and who the hell was standing beside her. It had been the same the previous morning. Clearly, she wasn’t yet accustomed to having company. Not this kind of company, anyway.
Her head cleared and she pushed herself up to a sitting position in the bed. ‘Goodness. What time is it?’
‘About eight thirty. I hope that’s not too early for you on Christmas Day.’
She was sitting up now, the duvet pulled closely around her body. That seemed a little superfluous given what had happened in the bed on the previous two nights, but she was still feeling self-conscious. ‘Not at all. I think yesterday was the first time I’d slept beyond seven for years.’
Bill Emsworth was standing by the bed, fully dressed in jeans and an open neck shirt, bearing two mugs of coffee. He placed his own on the bedside table and then sat down on the bed beside her before carefully handing her the second mug. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Must have done. I don’t remember anything after…’ She trailed off. ‘Well, you know.’
‘Well, that was quite memorable. For me, anyway.’
‘And for me,’ she said. ‘Though this is all taking a bit of getting used to. I’m rather out of practice.’
‘I’d no complaints.’
She felt herself colouring. ‘Not with that. Well, I am with that too. But I was thinking more of the whole relationship thing.’
‘It does take a bit of getting used to, doesn’t it? But I think we’re beginning to get there.’
‘Yes, I think we are.’
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘Merry Christmas. We even have snow.’ He reached down beside the bed and produced a package wrapped in glistening silver paper. ‘I didn’t know what to get you, but thought I ought to get something.’
‘You really shouldn’t have.’
‘You can say that more sincerely when you’ve opened it.’
‘I doubt it. I was in the same position. Had no idea what to get you either. So I played safe. I tucked it away over there behind my case.’
While he walked over to fetch her present, she pulled opened the wrapping on his. Inside was a neat box inscribed with the name of an Inverness jewellers. She opened it and peered inside. She’d had a momentary fear that Bill might have misjudged the moment and that the box would contain an engagement ring. But she should have known that he was more sensitive than that.
The box contained a simple but elegant silver pendant. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said. ‘Though you really shouldn’t have.’
‘Why shouldn’t I?’ he said. ‘It’s not as if I’ve anyone else to buy presents for.’
‘Well, it’s lovely. Thank you. I’m afraid my present’s very dull by comparison.’
He was pulling off the wrapping. ‘I wouldn’t say that. It’s my favourite.’ He held up a bottle of Ardbeg Corryvreckan.
‘I remember you saying. Quite distinctive, you said, if I recall.’
‘A bit of an understatement on my part, but well remembered. We’ll have to have a celebratory dram later.’
She took a sip of her coffee. ‘So what’s the plan for today?’ They’d spent the previous day happily doing not very much together. They’d been for a long walk along the beach to Chanonry Point, and sat for an hour or so hoping in vain to spot the dolphins. Other than that, they’d largely sat chatting in Emsworth’s house. From Grant’s perspective, the whole day had felt effortless, with none of the struggling for small talk that she’d experienced in past attempts at establishing relationships.
‘I assumed we’d have another strenuous day,’ he said. ‘I was planning to make us a light breakfast. How does eggs royale sound?’
‘Eggs royale? Is that the one with smoked salmon? Sounds perfect.’
‘Excellent. Perhaps with a glass of Christmas champagne, if that’s not too decadent?’
‘I’m not used to this kind of life,’ she said. ‘But why not?’
‘Then I’ve got a goose for Christmas lunch. I say lunch, but I was thinking mid-afternoon.’
‘Ideal. Can I help?’
‘No, the cooking’s my job. Your job’s to sit and enjoy yourself.’
‘I’m not used to that. I’ll start getting twitchy.’
‘If you do, I can give you some tasks. Tasting the food. Opening and checking the wine. That kind of thing.’
‘I can probably manage that.’
‘Okay. I’ll go and start things downstairs? Do you want a bath or shower before you get dressed?’
‘Just a shower. Wake myself up. Then I’ll be down.’
‘No rush. We’ve got the whole day ahead of us. See you shortly.’
She lay there for a few minutes longer, still holding the pendant. It was lovely, she thought, and just perfect. Something beautiful, a little intimate, but nothing that was too presumptuous about their relationship.
Why did that matter to her? She supposed because she was still reluctant to be rushed into anything, not that Bill had shown any signs of wanting to do that. That didn’t mean she didn’t want a new relationship. But she’d enough bad experiences to know how easy it might be to make a mistake. So far, everything with Bill seemed idyllic, and their intimacy over these few days would be a good test of that.
After a moment, she climbed out of bed and pulled on the dressing gown she’d left on the end of the bed. She walked over and pulled open the curtains.
As Bill had said, it was a white Christmas, a rare enough event even in these parts. The hillside and clustered houses below were coated white with snow. Perhaps that was an omen, she thought, a positive sign. The snow had stopped falling for the moment, although the sky was still heavy with cloud and the morning remained dark. The trees were bending before the strong wind blowing in from the sea, and the deep reddening of the clouds above the bay indicated sunrise was imminent. They were on the verge of a new year, a new start. There was plenty for her to be concerned about, both for herself and for the country and world at large. But for the moment she realised, slightly to her surprise, that she was happy.