Chapter Five - Michael
726 Words
Chapter Five - Michael
Shrugging off my jacket, Ryan following, I enter the lounge. “Ryan’s picked out your tree, Kirstie. It’s a beauty…”
I trail off. Charlotte and Mitch sit together with Kirstie, their heads close…
Suspiciously close…
What’s cooking?
Beth enters, carrying Adam. “Charlotte, I… Oh! Hello. Didn’t realise you two were back. I thought you were out hunting Christmas trees. And I forgot my phone.”
“It’s in the kitchen,” says Charlotte. “On the table.” But she says no more. All four women gaze at me with the kind of innocent expressions guaranteed to make a man’s blood run cold.
Hmmm…
I know plotting when I see it
Should I ask?
Is there any point?
Doubtless, I’ll not learn anything until they’re ready to tell me.
*****
“How’s it going, Sally? Everything under control?. I’ll be out and about later this morning, so if you need anything, I can call by the cash and carry.”
My head chef Hmmms, scanning the kitchen. “Another turkey? Or two or three?” She laughs. “I saw from the bookings that you’d squeezed in a couple of extra tables.”
“Why not? I’ll buy them frozen and if they don’t get used over the holidays, we can serve them up in February after people have recovered from a surfeit of turkey.”
“Fine… Um… More parsnips if they have them in. They always go down well roasted…” She stares into space, crossing off some invisible checklist. “There’re plenty of potatoes. Oh, but I’m short on onions. You could bring in a couple of sacks…”
Her gaze drops to my chest. “I see you have a helper. Sally bends at the knee, bringing her face level with Cara’s tickling her under the chin. How's Daddy's girl then? Are we helping him at work now?”
Cara burbles and giggles. “Da… da… da.. da...”
Sally straightens up, brow wrinkling. “Is that comfortable? Carrying her around in a papoose?”
“She’s a bit small to let her run around on her own. And it's good for kiddies to get out and about.”
“And when she’s bored?”
“She goes out like a light and doesn’t even know it when I put her back in her cot.”
“Ga… ga… ga… ga…”
Sally casts around the kitchen. “Are we allowed a treat? A bit of apple, maybe?
“Just a bit. So long as there’s not too much sugar in it.”
“No sugar at all. It’s slices. I just softened them a few minutes ago to start the sauce. They’re nice and squidgy. If they’ve cooled down…”
She reaches into a steamer, then tugs back her fingers. “Just a minute…” She stabs out a couple of slices with a fork and runs them under the cold tap for a few seconds, then touches them to her wrist… “That’s better. Cara… Want a sweetie? They’re nice…” She pops one slice into her mouth and offers the other to Cara.
Cara grabs the slice and paws it up to her face, chomping at it with tiny pearly-whites. “Ba… ba… ba… ba…”
*****
In reception, Morwenna has everything under control. “Booked up solid, Michael, even with the extra tables. Afternoon and evening sittings.” She blows a sigh. “The phone keeps ringing with requests for room bookings and I have to tell them no.”
“Maybe next Christmas, but not this year. Everyone’s entitled to a holiday and we’ll have our hands full with the wedding we’re helping out with. The restaurant will bring in the cash we need.”
“It's going to be a busy few days for you.”
“So it is, but that's the right problem to have, isn't it.”
On the desk is a jar full of candy, there for any guest to help themselves. The brightly-coloured contents draw Cara’s eyes like a magnet. Little hands fling out, trying to grab. “Da da da ma mamamama.”
Morwenna watches the performance. “Would Cara like a lollipop?”
“She'd like one, yes, but she can't have one. She'll be having her lunch when I get back.”
*****
Back in the house, I deliver Cara to Mitch. As predicted, she’s sound asleep and doesn’t even notice as Mitch pulls the covers over her.
What now?
My muscles are tight. Until I thought about it, I’d not realised I’m tensed up.
I could do with some exercise. But the gym is packed out with women in lycra. The swimming pool has a kid’s Christmas party going on and…
And…
And?
I just feel like some in-my-own-head time…
Go for a run?
But the mist and the chill and, most of all, the underfoot mud, hardly entice me outdoors.
Ah, yes…
I make my way to the wood-shed.
*****
- Writer
