Chapter Eleven #2
Something flashed between the mother and son, a dark look from Callum, a sniff from Lizzie. Even Derek paused in his mission to open the bottle of wine.
‘Here you go,’ Fiona sang as she returned carrying a single, smaller plate. ‘Now, I’m no expert in vegan cookery but there’s no meat, no dairy, no eggs.’
As she put the plate down in front of me, Derek stared in my direction as though they’d just unveiled a new fifth horseman of the apocalypse: war, death, famine, pestilence and veganism.
‘No meat, no dairy, no eggs, no taste.’ He punctuated the sentence with the pop of a cork. ‘No offence, Caroline, love, but I never thought I’d see the day my son brought a vegan into this house.’
A vegan.
I glared at Callum. This was definitely new information.
‘So thoughtful of you to let your family know,’ I said, trying not to gag at the plant-pot-shaped pile of brown mush in front of me.
‘I forgot I’d mentioned it,’ he replied through gritted teeth. ‘Remember when you couldn’t meet Mum and Dad for dinner last time they were in London? Because you were boycotting the steak restaurant?’
‘Was that because they were serving narwhal?’ I asked pointedly.
‘Nae, hen, just regular cow,’ Derek answered. ‘Tuck in.’
Fiona waited at my side, hands clasped, breath held as I picked up my fork. Vegan food didn’t bother me. I stuck to a relatively strict Veganuary every year, as long as I wasn’t hungover, and tried to do meatless Mondays, but the meals I made for myself never looked or smelled quite like this.
‘What is it?’ I asked as politely as possible. It was one thing to turn the family off Caroline in general, it was another to outright insult another woman’s hard work. I simply couldn’t do it.
‘A vegan roast,’ Fi replied proudly. ‘It’s all the veggies from lunch mixed together with a dash of vegetable oil and baked. Took a hoon’s age to find the blender. And no complex carbs either, whatever that means.’
‘It looks …’ I glanced over to Callum, who at least had the decency to look apologetic. ‘It looks so …’
‘It looks fantastic, Fiona,’ he supplied. ‘Stunning. Couldn’t have done better myself.’
‘Oh get away with you,’ she cackled. ‘High praise from the master chef. I want to see four clean plates or there’ll be no pudding.’
‘What’s for pudding?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Steamed chocolate pudding with custard for them and you’re having sliced apple surprise.’
‘What’s the surprise?’
‘That it’s a sliced apple because I couldn’t pull a vegan dessert out of my backside with only twenty-four hours’ notice.’
The heartbroken sob was out my mouth before I could stop it.
‘Thank you, Fi,’ Callum said quickly. ‘You’re amazing.’
‘Yes, amazing,’ I echoed. ‘Thank you, Fi.’
The kitchen door rattled shut, leaving the four of us alone in an uncomfortable silence.
‘I don’t know about you but my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut, everybody dig in,’ Derek declared, standing to pour wine for Callum. Even though I’d had far too much the night before, I eagerly held out my glass. Anything to help the vegan roast go down more easily.
‘No need to be polite,’ he said, shaking his head and passing me over to pour for Lizzie. ‘You don’t believe in phones, you don’t eat meat, you don’t drink. I’m starting to wonder what it is you do do. Besides massage with balls.’
‘Sorry, what?’ My head flicked back to Callum. ‘I don’t what?’
‘You don’t drink.’
I watched Callum wince, presumably remembering something he’d forgotten.
‘That’s why we couldn’t come on the distillery tour back in July. We hadn’t been seeing each other that long, I didn’t think it was the best way for you to meet the family.’
‘Narwhal,’ I whispered, defeated. ‘Narwhal narwhal narwhal.’
‘Each to their own, that’s what I say,’ Derek cheered. ‘But I hope you’re not planning to preach the evils of alcohol while you’re here.’ Callum chewed on the inside of his cheek but didn’t offer to help me escape. Why bother establishing a safe word if I was not in any way, shape or form, safe?
‘No,’ I assured his dad. ‘I wasn’t planning on it.’
While the three of them tucked into their delicious-looking food, I poked at my lovingly prepared vegan roast. It held together with more conviction than it should, and I was sure I could see Fiona’s handprints moulded into each side when I squinted.
‘I have to admit,’ Derek’s voice boomed as though I were sitting three rooms over and not across the table. ‘You’re not at all how I imagined you.’
‘Am I not?’ I poked at an unidentifiable beige chunk that separated itself from the mass, offering itself up as tribute. ‘What were you expecting?’
‘I could’ve sworn you said she was a blonde,’ Lizzie said first. ‘Did he not, Derek?’
Her husband agreed. ‘Aye, I’d have said the same thing. Wasn’t expecting you to be a redhead. And I cannae hear the Swedish accent at all.’
Beside me, Callum choked into his napkin and I struggled to swallow my first regrettable mouthful.
‘Are you all right?’ Lizzie asked in alarm.
‘He’s fine,’ I replied without even checking. ‘No Swedish accent, right, well, that’s because I’ve been in England so long.’
‘Probably stronger when you’re in Sweden,’ Derek reasoned.
‘Probably,’ I agreed. ‘Like Callum. His accent is much stronger up here than it is in London.’
‘That’s because he forgets where he’s from,’ Lizzie said. ‘Or he tries to.’
Callum’s fork froze halfway to his mouth and I recoiled from the tension between mother and son.
‘A redhead from Sweden, I bet you don’t get many of those to the pound,’ Derek guffawed, either oblivious or ignoring it. ‘The daftie refused to send us a photo, said you hate having your picture taken. It’s like getting blood out of a stone, getting him to tell us anything about you.’
‘Except that I’m a vegan Swedish masseuse who doesn’t drink,’ I said, sucking my teeth when Callum coughed.
‘A blonde, vegan Swedish masseuse who doesn’t drink.’
Everyone looked up at once.
Standing in the doorway was a tall woman, auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail, the exact same sapphire blue eyes as Callum set in her offensively pretty, makeup-less face.
‘Brother,’ she said.
‘Elsie,’ Callum replied. ‘This is Caroline.’
‘Is it.’
Elsie. His sister. She glared at me and it didn’t take the mind of a neurosurgeon to work out she wasn’t especially pleased to see either of us.
‘Didn’t know you were here,’ Callum said. ‘Aren’t you sitting down?’
Her heavy-looking work jacket rustled as she crossed her arms.
‘I’m always here, I live here. I’m also working, farms don’t take days off.’
‘Och, sit down, Else, have something to eat.’ Derek shunted his seat backwards, the wooden legs creaking loudly. ‘You take my plate, I’ve barely touched it. I’ll get another from Fiona.’
Still eyeing me with more suspicion than I was comfortable with, she shook her head. ‘No time, Dad. I need to move the sheep out of the high field, there’s a flood warning.’
‘Is there? Let me help you.’
He started to stand but Lizzie grabbed his wrist.
‘You’ll sit down and eat your lunch,’ she instructed. ‘Elsie knows what she’s doing. If she wanted help, she’d ask for it.’
‘I’m here if you need an extra pair of hands?’ Callum offered, pushing up his sleeves, looking ready to wrangle a dozen lambs there and then.
‘She meant if I needed help on the farm, not someone to bake a souffle,’ his sister returned coolly and beside me I saw Callum swallow hard, sinking down into himself. ‘Couldn’t have you getting your precious hands dirty, Cal. Unless you need to impress the delicate little princess here.’
Oh. Oh. My eyes popped open. She was talking about me. I didn’t care what Elsie McClay had heard about Caroline, that was fighting talk.
‘Callum doesn’t need to prove himself to me by chasing livestock around a field,’ I assured her, sweet enough to rot teeth. ‘He doesn’t need to do anything to impress me.’
‘Just as well because he’s fucking useless.’
Elsie looked at me and smiled. It was venomous, the smile of someone who had just engaged a worthy opponent. Around the table, all three of her family members reached for their wine glasses at the same time.
‘Well, don’t let us keep you, sounds like you’ve got a lot of important things to do,’ I said, returning her vile expression. ‘We can chitchat later when you don’t smell like you’ve been up to your elbows in cow shit all morning.’
‘Better to be up to the elbows than listen to it coming out of Callum’s mouth.’ Her eyes flashed as her dad snorted wine out of his nose. ‘Mum, please tell Fiona I won’t be here for supper, I’ve got important things to do.’
With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, the door swinging back and forth in her wake.
‘And now you’ve met Elsie,’ Callum said before taking another, much deeper drink as his mother dabbed at his father’s face with her napkin.
‘Only Rory to go and you’ve got the whole set,’ Derek said with a half-hearted attempt at a laugh. ‘How are you enjoying your roast? It doesn’t look half as bad as the first one. Fiona was experimenting all day yesterday. I’m sure she’ll have it perfected by Christmas Day.’
‘Can’t wait,’ I replied as I forced down another regrettable mouthful. ‘Cannot bloody wait.’