Chapter Eighteen
On Sunday, Flynn grabbed the opportunity to have a few hours’ break from the Spectacular. Flynn had decided to go for a bike ride and then meet Harvey for Sunday lunch at a Lakeland pub.
After breakfast, he donned his leathers and set off. On this still, crisp winter day, there was no thrill like it and his spirits lifted as he leaned into the bends on the twisting roads and whizzed past snow-topped mountains on one side and mirrored lakes on the other.
The roar of the engine sounded like a symphony or poetry to him, not that he’d admit it to anyone but another biker.
They hadn’t had long to talk the other evening in town, so Harvey had suggested the lunch. By the time he reached the pub, nestled between Loweswater and Crummock Water, he felt more exhilarated than he had for a long time. His decision to move to Ravendale felt like fate.
He wondered if he would ever be able to persuade Lara to ride pillion with him. He’d thought there was no thrill like riding the Lakeland roads, but he was wrong, because if she was behind him, her arms around his waist, he’d think he’d gone to heaven.
It was difficult to miss Harvey, because he was six foot five – four inches taller than Flynn himself – and of Antiguan heritage.
He played rugby in the winter and cricket for a village team in the summer.
Harvey had a table by the window and already had a cappuccino in front of him.
Vintage Christmas rock ‘n’ roll played over the speakers: Flynn supposed it made a change from the classical music at the gardens, which he had now heard approximately one hundred times.
Harv was occupying a settle at a table near the fire and got up when Flynn arrived. ‘Hello again,’ he said. ‘We must stop meeting like this. People will talk.’
Flynn laughed and pulled back the chair opposite. ‘Twice in three days. This must be a record.’
A waiter took their orders for a Guinness Zero and a Coke. Turkey was on offer, but Flynn was so maxed out with anything festive that he ordered roast beef. Harvey, a traditionalist, went for the turkey with all the trimmings.
‘I never asked you what you’re doing for Christmas Day,’ Harvey said.
‘Not much, I expect.’ Flynn had been wondering what Lara would be doing but wasn’t ready to mention her name to Harvey yet. ‘The Spectacular only closes for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. It’s not really worth me making the journey south until the New Year.’
‘What will your mum and dad say about that?’ Harvey had met Flynn’s parents a few times when he’d visited Flynn in Cornwall.
‘They said they’ll miss me but they’ll have their hands full hosting my dad’s parents.’
‘Well, you’re welcome to come over to our place.’
‘Thanks,’ Flynn said. ‘Will Carmel mind an extra one for dinner?’
Harvey smiled. ‘It was Carmel who asked me to invite you.’
‘That was kind of her,’ Flynn said, feeling genuinely touched by his friends’ thoughtfulness. He wasn’t sure how to reply, however, mainly because he didn’t want to intrude on a special family occasion.
‘You don’t have to answer now, you can leave it as late as you want. I warn you that the house will be awash with wrapping paper and the kids will be hyper, but it might be more fun than sitting in your armchair in your cottage on your own.’
‘I’m sure it will be.’ Flynn laughed.
‘Then again,’ Harvey said with a sigh, ‘I might be desperate to swap places with you by the middle of the afternoon. You also might have other plans, of course.’
Flynn hesitated that bit too long before responding. Lara was staying at the castle over Christmas and he couldn’t imagine her being on her own.
‘I would love to spend the day with you and it’s very kind of you both.
Can I hang on? I just need to check I’m not expected to stay at the castle.
Obviously there isn’t a light show on Christmas Day, but I had heard vague rumours of a staff dinner for all those who were working away from home and on their own on the twenty-fifth. ’
Harvey’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Wow. That sounds like something from Downton bloody Abbey. All the staff gathering in the servant’s hall whether they like it or not …’
‘It does a bit. I don’t know any details or even if it’s definitely on. I suppose I don’t have to go to it, either, but I ought to find out what normally happens as I’m the new boy. There are several people who are working over Christmas and won’t be able to go home.’
He also assumed that Lara would be one of the people who was bound to go to the communal dinner if it was happening this year.
‘I promise I’ll find out and let you know.’
‘If you do have to go to this thing, then you’re welcome at ours on Boxing Day. We usually have a walk, go to the pub, and then come home and eat all the leftovers.’
‘That sounds great. You can definitely put me down for that.’
The dinners arrived and the talk turned to all sorts, from the kids’ Christmas presents to Flynn’s motorbike and sport.
Flynn wasn’t a big football fan but he’d played cricket and rugby at school and once had a try-out for one of the junior teams at Cornish Pirates.
Nothing had come of it and he was now rather glad that he hadn’t ended up with a broken nose and cauliflower ears.
He thought of Lara’s reaction to him if that had been the case and suppressed his laughter.
They’d finished the roasts and were tucking into portions of Cumberland Rum Nicky, a date and rum pie topped with rum butter, when Lara messaged Flynn.
He read her WhatsApp and felt his mouth stretch into a grin.
When he put the phone down, Harvey was watching him carefully. ‘Work or pleasure?’
‘Erm. Neither … and possibly both.’ The message had been reminding him not to forget the costume fitting at five.
Harvey scratched his beard. ‘Now I’m really intrigued. Go on.’
‘If I do, will you promise not to laugh too loudly?’
‘I’ll try very hard.’
Flynn dived in. ‘I’m going for a historical costume fitting.’
Harvey spluttered. ‘You what?’
‘Mate, you promised not to laugh,’ Flynn said, feigning a serious face.
‘I – er—’ Harvey covered his mouth with his hand. ‘I never expected to hear that phrase come out of your mouth.’
Flynn sighed. ‘It’s for the Twelfth Night Ball. They hold it every year apparently, and it’s fancy dress – well, historical costume – and I’ve been persuaded to join in. For the sake of the team, of course.’
‘Well, if it’s for the team and it’s part of the job, I guess you’ve no choice, but …’ Harvey sniggered again. ‘You’re not going to wear tights or breeches, are you?’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Flynn replied, struck with horror at the prospect of either.
‘The castle manager is overseeing the fitting.’ He hoped Harvey wouldn’t ask who she – or he – was.
‘I can’t really wriggle out of it.’ Not that he’d want to wriggle out of anything where Lara was involved.
Plus, if any ‘wriggling out’ were to be done, he hoped it would involve Lara shimmying out of the red dress she’d worn when he’d first met her at Halloween.