One More for Christmas(102)
Mary looked at Brodie and he nodded.
“We’ve run the numbers together. This whole thing works.”
Kirstie sat tense and stiff. “We’d have strangers in our home every Christmas.” She was the only one who wasn’t looking excited.
“If Christmas itself is an issue, then we can avoid those dates. But from the end of November through to Christmas Eve, we can offer festive holidays.”
Kirstie took a deep breath. “I’m hating being indoors. It’s killing me.”
“Which is why your responsibility will be outdoors, mostly with the reindeer.” Samantha pulled out a couple of sheets of paper from the pile and passed them across the table. “This is just a start. You’ll have many more ideas I’m sure, but basically there is so much potential there. It’s going to grow. You’re going to be busy.”
“You want me to be in charge of the reindeer?” Kirstie flicked through the papers, reading the plans. “You don’t want me to work in the lodge?”
“That would be a waste of your talents. Also, if this is going to work you have to love what you do.”
Ella only half listened as Samantha outlined the rest of their plans for Kinleven. She was more interested in the detail of her sister’s blossoming relationship with Brodie. They talked as if this was something they’d planned together and discussed at length. They passed pages of notes between them, fingertips brushing, exchanging the occasional brief glance that seemed to exclude everyone else. Ella was willing to bet that if she peeped under the table she’d see Brodie’s leg pressing against her sister’s.
“There’s something else we wanted to talk about, Samantha.” Gayle spoke for the first time. “What Mary produces in this kitchen is nothing short of magic. Can we use that?”
“You mean apart from offering great food?” Samantha tapped her pen on the table. “You mean cookery classes?”
“Yes. Small numbers—”
“Make it personal.”
“A weekend in a Highland Kitchen—”
“They eat what they cook. Add in whiskey tasting.” Samantha nodded. “That would work. We could offer it as an optional extra to guests, but also a few special weekends during the year.”
“And for guests who are staying here, maybe a cookery morning for children. But one parent has to be included, because Mary can’t spend her time trying to stop children poking their fingers into the oven. And Mary and I have been putting together a cookery book—” Gayle was casual. “My agent already has a publisher interested.”
Mary gasped and dropped the papers in her hand. “Really?”
“Early days of course, but we’re pulling together a proposal, and I’m feeling hopeful.”
Mary pressed her hand to her chest. “This is—I don’t know what to say—it’s so exciting.”
“We could gift a copy to guests.” Samantha was quick to spot the commercial opportunity. “Include dishes that Mary serves during their stay.”
“It’s a lot of work for you, Mum.” Kirstie handed the pages back to Samantha. “But it’s what you love doing, right?”
“I’m already excited.”
Bored, Tab pressed a pastry cutter into the gingerbread mixture. “Can we cook them yet?”
Mary stood up. “We certainly can. Let’s get them in the oven.”
Gayle stood up, too.
“Mom?” Samantha closed her laptop. “Could I talk to you for a few minutes?”
“Of course.” Gayle removed her apron. “Shall we go to the library?”
“I want to go with Nanna.” Tab abandoned her gingerbread reindeer.
Ella wanted to go with her mother, too. She wanted to be there for her sister in case she was upset. In case she needed her. But she knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. Ultimately, everyone had to fight their own battles. They had to find their own strength. Her mother had been right about that.
Ella scooped up Tab. “We have so much to do here, and Nanna will be back soon.”
Her sister needed to spend time with their mother in private.
Gayle
The library was possibly her favorite room in the house. Bookshelves rose floor to ceiling, and elaborate twists of glossy greenery framed the fireplace. Ivy twisted into holly. Feathery branches of fir.
The space folded around you like a comfort blanket, drawing you into another world, which made sense to Gayle because didn’t books do the same thing? She’d sneaked into this room several times over the course of the past few days, settled herself in one of the comfortable reading chairs, secured her headphones and listened to her beloved Puccini while watching the snow drift soundlessly past the window. Occasionally she’d paused to respond to emails, but Simon had stepped up into the role and most of the content was updates. After much thought she’d emailed Cole, apologized that he’d missed his grandmother’s funeral and promised to be more flexible moving forward. Remembering some of the things they’d said when she was lying semiconscious in her office still made her face burn. She didn’t want to be the woman they thought she was. She still had to figure out how her work fitted into this new version of her, but for now work wasn’t her priority.
Two deep sofas faced each other across a rug, but Samantha walked past them to the window.