RUST - A Polin Fic - Chapter 7
Chapter 7 - Starting to Crack
Aubrey Hall was warm, welcoming and comforting, much like the hug Penelope received from Violet the moment they arrived.
“Oh, my dears, thank goodness you’re both safe,” she exclaimed as she drew back, the relief plain on her face. “We were all quite beside ourselves last night when we couldn’t reach either of you.”
“There wasn’t any signal, otherwise we would have,” Colin said as he came to a halt next to Penelope and put their luggage down.
Violet nodded.
“Anthony thought that might be the problem. He was already talking about calling the police this morning if we still couldn’t reach you.” She drew Colin into a hug just as tight. “But luckily I did and you’re here now, that’s the main thing,” she said softly, hands resting briefly at his shoulders as she pulled back to look at him properly. “I’m just so pleased you’re home for Christmas.” She looked at Penelope. “Both of you.”
Colin gave her a brief smile in return. He wished he could say the same thing, but he wasn’t sure how he was feeling.
This was the first time he’d set foot in this house in nearly five years. He should be feeling something, shouldn’t he?
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Penelope move and glanced over to see her smoothing down her hair in an attempt to tame some of her riotous curls. She caught his gaze and he quickly looked away again as his heart picked up its pace. He itched to reach out and do it himself. Her hair had felt like silk running through his fingers last night. He closed his eyes briefly at the memory and shoved his hands deep into his pockets as his body stirred.
Clearly, he did feel something. It just wasn’t what he’d thought it’d be.
“Now, come along, everyone’s in the kitchen,” Violet suddenly urged briskly. She linked her arms through both of theirs and started walking. “Eloise got your message,” she said looking at Penelope. “She told us your car had got stuck and that you were lucky enough to find shelter nearby.”
“We were,” she agreed with a nod. “Very lucky.”
The kitchen was already the usual morning chaos when they entered.
Light streamed in through the tall windows, catching on a long table scattered with plates and mugs and the remains of people’s breakfast. The room hummed with chatter and laughter that quietened the moment they appeared, then suddenly erupted again, all at once.
Chairs scraped back and voices clashed as everyone got up to greet them.
Benedict was on his feet first, a ready grin in place. Sophie, his wife, rose slowly from her seat beside him, one hand resting on her swollen stomach. At eight months pregnant, moving about was becoming a chore.
“You finally got here,” Benedict declared in relief as he gave each of them a warm hug followed by Sophie.
Hyacinth was close behind, all enthusiasm. Then Gregory took his turn, an easy smile on his face.
Eloise was next. She embraced Penelope first, squeezing her tight, then let go and turned to her brother to do the same. When she pulled back, she looked between the both of them and her eyes narrowed.
“You look exhausted,” she said bluntly.
“Well, we had quite a night,” Penelope replied with a little laugh. Colin felt his heart miss and shot her a startled look. She caught his gaze briefly before colouring slightly and adding hurriedly, “You know, with the-the snow and the accident and…and everything.”
She trailed off and glanced at Colin again in mute appeal.
“Yes,” he concurred quickly. “It certainly wasn’t one I’ll forget in a hurry.”
Penelope’s breath caught, just for a moment. She dropped her gaze, nodding as if he’d said nothing more than the obvious.
Eloise looked from Penelope to her brother and frowned but refrained from commenting as footsteps sounded behind her.
She moved aside instead, then folded her arms and watched them both with interest as Francesca approached.
Colin was glad for the distraction and returned his younger sister’s affectionate smile with one of his own.
“I’m glad you’re both safe,” she told them as she stepped back and her smile faded to something sadder.
Colin felt the weight of her sorrow settle around him and he reached out to give her hand a light squeeze. This would be her first Christmas without John. With a quick nod of her head, she turned away, and then he was greeted by Anthony and Kate.
He found himself engulfed in his eldest brother’s fierce embrace and returned it in mild surprise.
“Thank God Mother got through to you when she did. I was about to call the police and put out a search party,” the older man told him seriously when he finally released him. “What happened?”
“Let them sit down and eat something first,” Kate interjected firmly. “They must be famished.”
Colin gave his sister-in-law a grateful smile. He was rather hungry and from the way Penelope’s face lit up he assumed she was too.
As they moved, a small voice cut through the noise.
“Uncle Colin!”
A young, dark-haired boy came running across the room, face beaming.
“Edmund!” Colin exclaimed happily. He immediately crouched down and opened his arms to gather his nephew in for a hug. “Let me look at you.” He held the boy at arms length and gave him a once over. “Hmm, you’ve grown,” he declared, then leaned forward to add conspiratorially, “Another couple of months and I think you’ll even be taller than Auntie Penelope.”
He heard her scoff behind him and the six-year-old giggled, clearly delighted with the observation. As the boy moved off to hug the redhead, his younger brother stood a little away watching him with curiosity.
“Hello, Miles,” he greeted gently and opened his arms to him as well, but the child stayed put and reached out a hand to Kate.
As the boy was only four, Colin hadn’t seen much of him over the years, and his hesitation to come to him hit harder than he expected. He dropped his arms and stood up, bending to gently give Miles’ hair a ruffle.
“He’s quite shy,” Kate excused smoothly.
Colin nodded and tried to ignore the, ‘around strangers’ that seemed to hang unspoken in the air between them.
“Well, they get bigger every time I see them,” Colin offered quietly, glancing at Anthony with a rueful smile that acknowledged the truth beneath it.
“Blink and you miss it,” his brother replied softly.
Colin nodded and cast a glance at Penelope. Eloise had her by the arm, already steering her toward the table.
Blink and you miss it.
He was beginning to think he’d spent years doing just that very thing.
Violet’s voice broke through his thoughts, calling him over and gesturing toward the seat opposite Penelope as everyone else went back to their own seats. The chatter resumed as plates of bacon and eggs were placed in front of them both, along with mugs of tea.
Good, just what he needed. Eat first, think later.
He’d only got a few bites in, however, before Anthony leaned back in his chair and settled his attention on him.
“So, what happened to the car?”
Colin thought back to that horrifying moment and frowned.
“Some idiot was on the wrong side of the road. Thanks to Penelope’s quick reaction we avoided hitting them,” he explained, pausing to send her a brief smile. “Unfortunately, we ended up sliding into a ditch and got stuck.”
“And the person who caused the problem went on unscathed I suppose?” Anthony muttered irritably.
Colin nodded and went back to his food. He wished he’d been awake enough to clock the number plate but all that really mattered was that they were unhurt. Well, apart from his lip but he’d quite forgotten about that in the hours that followed.
“You said in your message you found an empty cottage nearby to stay,” Eloise recalled, looking at her friend. “That was handy.”
“Yes, a holiday let, I think,” Penelope replied, taking a sip of her tea.
“Empty?” Anthony echoed sharply, clearly only just hearing of this. He looked between the two of them then pinned his gaze on his brother. “So how did you get in then? Did you have to force entry?”
“Well, it was either that or wait it out in the car,” Colin pointed out defensively. “Don’t worry, I didn’t cause much damage and I’ve got the owners contact details. I’ll sort it out.”
His elder brother relaxed at that and nodded.
“See that you do.” He seemed to think on it a bit more then added, “And there wasn’t any wi-fi there? I thought it would be expected nowadays.”
Colin felt himself bristling. Did Anthony really think that he wouldn’t have called for help if they’d been able? That he’d had the means and just hadn’t bothered?
“No. There was no wi-fi,” he clarified stiffly. “The place is up for sale so there wasn’t much of anything left.”
“Oh, well, thank goodness for that then,” Eloise chipped in wryly. “Otherwise you probably would’ve made Penelope work all night, knowing you.”
Colin stared at her and felt his annoyance rise. It was the assumption that irked him. That once they were safe he would have simply turned back to work.
But then, a realisation slid unpleasantly into place and he felt heat creep up his face as his anger turned inward.
Because hadn’t he done exactly that? That very morning? As soon as he’d got his signal back, he’d started answering emails instead of calling any one of them to let them know that he and Penelope were fine. He hadn’t even thought of it, if he were being completely honest with himself, and that aggravated him even more.
So much so that he snapped back at his sister without really thinking.
“As much as I hate to disappoint you, Eloise, as of yesterday afternoon, I can no longer make Penelope do anything,” he retorted sharply, his mouth twisting up into a slightly derisive smile. “She’s resigned.”
“Resigned?” Anthony repeated in shock.
“Colin…”
The utter dismay in Penelope’s voice as she said his name made him look at her and he felt his stomach drop. And because he couldn’t bear her pained expression and didn’t know how to take back what he’d unceremoniously blurted out, he pressed on regardless.
“We’ll have to sort out a new PA after Christmas,” he added flatly, eyes dropping back to his plate. “The sooner the better.”
Penelope inhaled sharply.
The clatter of cutlery rang out as he set his knife and fork down and pushed his chair back with a scrape that was unnervingly loud in the sudden silence that had descended.
“I’m think I’m done,” he announced shortly, leaving half a plate of food untouched. “I’m going to have a shower, then I’m heading into town. I’ve got things to do.” He paused, already halfway to standing and glanced at his elder brother. “Can I borrow your car?”
“I think we should talk about this first,” Anthony replied, frowning.
Before Colin could respond, Benedict leaned forward and tossed some keys across the table.
“Here,” he said, shooting Anthony a mildly rebuking frown. “Take mine.”
Colin picked them up and gave his brother a brief, grateful nod and then he was gone.
Anthony watched him leave and shot Benedict an exasperated look. The younger man merely shrugged in response, completely unapologetic. With a beleaguered sigh he turned back to Penelope.
“I won’t pretend I was expecting that news,” he ventured carefully.
“I know,” she replied contritely. “I was going to tell you.”
His expression softened, just a fraction.
“Do you want…?”
“Not right now, if that’s okay?” she asked, a faintly pleading smile touching her lips.
He paused, then nodded.
“Certainly. We can speak later.”
It was a small reprieve, but Penelope could already feel the weight of that coming conversation pressing down on her as she stared at her food. Her appetite seemed to have vanished entirely as well, and she pushed her plate away with a faint grimace.
“I think,” she began quietly, moving her chair back, “I should go and unpack.”
Eloise was on her feet immediately. “I’ll go with you,” she stated, her tone brooking no argument.
Penelope gave her a small, thankful smile and they headed out of the kitchen. Finding the foyer empty, they were informed by the housekeeper that Colin had taken Penelope’s case upstairs with him.
Her stupid heart gave a little flutter at that.
The idea that he’d still thought of her, even annoyed, was dangerous. Exactly the sort of thing she couldn’t afford to dwell on.
Pushing it aside, she squared her shoulders and followed Eloise up the stairs. They entered the guest room that had been deemed Penelope’s since they were teenagers and, as she expected, her case sat waiting on the bed.
She went straight over to it and flipped it open, immediately busying herself with the contents.
Behind her, Eloise pushed the door to without shutting it and watched for a few moments before finally speaking.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Penelope answered after a brief pause, concentrating far too hard on folding a jumper that didn’t need folding.
“Come on, Pen. I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not,” the redhead agreed swiftly. “There’s just nothing to talk about. I resigned. That’s it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Pen spared her a glance over her shoulder.
“No, I did. Colin has the letter,” she said wryly.
The brunette let out a long-suffering sigh and crossed the room. She flipped the lid of the case closed before Penelope could reach for it again and held it in place.
“I’m not talking about your resignation and you bloody well know it,” Eloise told her seriously. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Between you and Colin, I mean.”
Penelope looked at her properly then and knew with a sinking certainty from the determined expression on her friends face that she wasn’t going to let it go.
She let out a defeated sigh and nodded.
“Fine. You’re right, something did happen,” she admitted reluctantly and then hastened to add, “But it doesn’t mean anything.”
Eloise gave her an assessing look.
“It does to you,” she countered assuredly.
“But it doesn’t to Colin,” Penelope retorted with a hint of frustration. “So just drop it…okay?”
She reached for the case again, but Eloise’s hand stayed firmly on the lid.
“He’s told you that?” she asked, a frown creasing her brow.
Penelope hesitated.
“Not…in so many words,” she allowed.
“And is that why you resigned?”
“What? No,” she denied quickly. “I’d already told him I was leaving.”
Eloise looked thoughtful.
“So, he drove down with you after he knew you were going?”
“Yes, but only because he’s had to push some work back,” she revealed guiltily. “I’ve left him in the lurch, El, and he had nothing better to do, that’s all.”
The brunette’s expression turned to one of bemusement.
“Pen…you know Colin’s avoided this place like the plague the last few years,” she reminded her quietly. “He wouldn’t have come with you if he really didn’t want to.”
While Penelope knew that was true, she also knew Eloise was reading far too much into it. If Colin had any ulterior motive, it had merely been to persuade her to stay — something he had clearly thought better of after last night, considering what he’d said to Anthony.
The pain of it was still fresh, a persistent ache in her chest, but it only confirmed what she’d already suspected. He had taken what she’d so foolishly offered and now wished to put it all behind him.
She could only thank God, she hadn’t given any of her feelings away that morning.
“Look,” she said, trying to make her friend understand, “yesterday was a lot. Neither of us were ourselves, What with the mistletoe…”
“Mistletoe?” Eloise echoed, eyes widening in surprise.
“And then the accident,” Pen continued, ploughing on, “not to mention we drank a fair amount of that champagne I always bring your mum.” She stopped, exhaling slowly, as the memory of their night filled her mind. “I just wasn’t thinking,” she muttered. “I kissed him, and then…well…” She broke off, shoulders lifting in a small, helpless shrug.
“And somewhere between last night and this morning,” Eloise realised slowly, “you decided that it didn’t mean anything to him.”
Penelope didn’t like the way she said that. It made it sound deliberate. She drew herself up as far as her diminutive stature would allow and shook her head.
“I can’t afford to romanticise it, El.”
Her friend was quiet for a long moment.
“Why not?”
Penelope let out a small, humourless laugh.
“Because I want love,” she said simply. “And Colin doesn’t. He’s closed himself off for years. He’s not going to change just because of one night and I won’t stand here and hope otherwise.”
Eloise didn’t answer straight away, but when she did, what she said took the redhead by complete surprise.
“You know, I’ve always thought that the one person he never quite shut out was you,” she mused.
For a moment, Penelope almost agreed.
He had never shut the door on her. Not completely, it was true. There had always been those little moments. Thoughtful, unthinking things he did that came naturally with the comfort borne out of a long acquaintance.
She looked at her case.
Things like that.
Bringing it to her room without asking.
Or lighting the fire for her the previous evening.
Or making her a drink whenever he got one for himself at work.
Thankfully, she’d learned long ago not to read any more into it than what it was…
“That’s just because we’re friends, El,” she clarified wryly.
“I know, but we’re his family and he doesn’t give us half as much of himself as he gives to you.”
Penelope stared at her, refusing to examine the feeling her words had stirred.
“Why are you trying so hard to…” She broke off, frowning as she gathered her thoughts. “You’ve never said any of this before, El. Not even when I told you how I felt about him. I thought you didn’t…approve or something.”
Eloise hesitated, then let out a quiet breath.
“I think I hoped,” she said slowly, “that he’d come back to himself eventually. To the person he was before he became this guarded shell of a man after all that happened with Marina. And I thought that when he did, he’d finally see what you meant to him.” She shrugged. “I just hadn’t realised quite how much he’d withdrawn in the meantime.”
Penelope sighed. She could understand that all too well.
“Neither had I,” she admitted with a sad smile. “But I’ve started to feel it too now. The distance. Even from me.”
Eloise gazed back at her sympathetically.
“Until last night,” she pointed out gently.
Penelope immediately shook her head in negation.
“No. Don’t. I told you what happened. It was just circumstance, feelings had nothing to do with it,” she paused then added dryly, “Well, not for him anyway.”
“Maybe,” Eloise conceded. “Or maybe you should talk to him and actually find out.”
Pen gave her a tight smile, already knowing that she wasn’t going to do that. “Maybe,” she muttered, non-committedly. “After I’ve unpacked. And showered.”
Eloise raised an eyebrow. She knew exactly what that meant but decided not to push again. Instead, she flipped the lid of the case open for her, offering a quiet truce.
“All right then,” she began brightly, “Now, tell me; if it wasn’t because of Colin, what really made you resign?”
Penelope felt herself relax. This was better. Safer. She began to unpack the rest of her clothes and told Eloise about her mother’s engagement which earned a very satisfying exclamation of shock from her friend.
“And then there’s my book,” she finally confessed. “I want to write it and if I don’t do it now, I'm not sure I ever will. I’ve been carrying around all these ideas in my head for so long. Like it’s all trapped inside me. Whole worlds, just waiting to be put down on paper.”
“Or computer screen,” Eloise quipped.
Penelope laughed and nodded.
“That too.”
The women were so wrapped up in their conversation that they didn’t hear the soft creak of an old floorboard being trodden on outside the door.
Colin froze for a moment in case he’d been rumbled. When it was clear they hadn’t heard him, he moved away, careful not to make anymore noise.
He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.
He’d been halfway down the corridor, hair still damp, coat already on, when he’d heard his sister’s cry of shock and had automatically gone to the door to ask if everything was alright.
For one, brief, horrendous moment he’d wondered whether Penelope had told Eloise what had happened between them. But as he’d hesitated, their voices came through the crack in the door again and he’d been relieved to realise it was about her mother instead.
Then she’d talked about her book and that swirl of guilt that was fast becoming his constant companion where she was concerned, settled in the pit of his stomach. If it wasn’t for him, Penelope would have already achieved her goal by now, he just knew it.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he was relieved to still hear the low hum of voices coming from the kitchen. At least he could leave uninterrupted.
So much had happened over the past twenty-four hours that he didn’t know his head from his heart. A little time alone was just what he needed to get his thoughts and feelings in order.
Once he was safely in Benedict’s car, he directed the vehicle toward the large town that lay a couple of miles east of his family’s country estate.
As he steadily drove along the sludge-covered road, he ruminated over being back at the place where everything had come undone, where the humiliation had lodged itself so deeply that it had reshaped him. Aubrey Hall, where his pride had been exposed, where the first piece of armour had slotted into place, the beginning of the man he’d become by closing himself off and pretending it hadn’t mattered.
He’d expected the memories to surge up all at once. Marina’s voice, the confrontation, the shock, the hurt…his family’s pity. He’d braced himself for it.
But it hadn’t come.
And the reason for that had been Penelope.
One look at her and every other thought had gone out of his head. And he couldn’t even tell himself it was because they’d spent the night together. He had willingly made the choice to come back before that had happened. He’d jumped at the chance in fact.
And that was where the crux of his problem lay.
Because that meant that whatever was happening to him…to his heart…had been sitting there for a while.
A long while, if he was honest with himself.
There could be no other explanation for the irrational hurt he’d felt when she’d said she’d decided to leave.
Leave him.
Because that’s what it’d felt like.
Personal.
And it was ridiculous, he knew that. Of course he was upset. They were friends...
He let out a derisive snort at that. What he’d felt the night before as she’d come apart so beautifully beneath him had been the furthest thing from friendly he’d ever known.
And, good Lord, did that scare the life out of him.
He let out a heavy sigh, relieved to see the local garage up ahead of him. He was straying into territory that he wasn’t quite ready to confront…especially since he still wasn’t certain of what to make of Penelope’s reaction that morning.
Had she truly been unaffected by their night together?
Or was that simply what he’d wanted to believe?
She’d definitely been right there with him last night, all the way. No holding back, he was positive.
He pulled into the forecourt and switched off the engine and then, out of nowhere, it struck him.
She’d said she already knew how he’d felt.
In fact, he realised with a sickening clarity, the entire conversation hadn’t been about her at all.
It’d been all about him.
About what she’d thought he’d wanted to hear.
“Sodding hell,” he groaned aloud. How had he not seen it sooner? “Because you’re a stupid twat, that’s why,” he muttered to himself in aggravation.
He got out of the car and slammed the door with more force than necessary. He’d fallen back into the familiar, comfortable habit of protecting himself so quickly that he hadn’t truly listened.
It’d been far easier for him to accept what she was saying than risk challenging it and being rejected.
And that knowledge triggered yet another unpleasant thought.
This wasn’t the first time he’d done that. He’d been perfecting the art of stepping back for years, not just with his love life, but with his own family too.
With that revelation swirling around in his head, he went into the garage to make arrangements for retrieving his car. At least, he hoped that’s what he did. His mind was elsewhere for most of the conversation and before he knew it, he’d handed over his car keys and a business card had been shoved into his hand in return.
“I’ll give you a call when we have it back here,” the man behind the counter said with a brief smile.
Colin mumbled his thanks and left. His mind still a jumble, he drove to the nearest car park in the town then made his way to the high street.
Some fresh air was just the thing.
He passed the familiar storefronts at first without really seeing them, his thoughts still half-elsewhere. It wasn’t until a bright splash of colour caught his attention that he slowed.
The large shop window was crowded with an array of toys from board games to model kits to cuddly teddies propped at odd angles. And right in the centre sat a bright blue, three-piece drum kit.
Colin stopped.
Edmund would love that.
The thought came so easily it startled him. He could picture the little boys face when he unwrapped it. And Anthony’s. His elder brother would never know a moments peace.
He grinned at the notion and with that came another, quieter realisation.
When was the last time he’d actually bought something like that?
A present that wasn’t from a list his family had sent over that he chose at random. A gift that wasn’t practical or easy to wrap.
Something personal. Something that required him to truly know the person he was buying for.
His chest tightened faintly as his thoughts drifted back to that very morning. To Miles hovering close to his mother’s side when he’d bent to greet him.
He’d told himself not to take it personally, but the absence of a hug had still stung more than he cared to admit.
Trust, after all, had to be earned.
And he had to be around far more than he had been to gain even a tiny sliver of it.
He gazed at the drum kit again and gave a little nod. This year was going to be different.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
He bought several things in the end. Not only for Edmund and Miles, but also for Simon and Daphne’s three children too. They would be arriving the next day on Christmas Eve and he was looking forward to seeing them all again.
He arranged to collect his purchases later before he returned back to the Hall and in the meantime started looking for gifts for the rest of his family. He might not have enough time, or options, to pick out something truly personal for his siblings this year, but at least they’d hopefully know that it actually came from him and not because they’d suggested it.
He ducked into a menswear shop and bought jumpers for Benedict, Gregory and Simon. Anthony would receive a bottle of his favourite whisky.
For Hyacinth he got a bright red hat and gloves set. A pair of slippers for his mum. Warm scarves for Daphne, Kate, Sophie and Francesca. He’d even managed to find one with music notes on for the latter.
Satisfied with everything he’d got so far, he headed towards the local bookshop to find something for Eloise and Penelope. He had an idea to buy one of those sprayed edge books that seemed popular at the moment.
He looked absently into shop windows as he passed different stores then came to a sudden halt and turned around. Something had caught his eye in the display of a jewellery shop and he moved closer to take a better look.
There it lay, a simple bangle with a small book charm attached. He immediately thought of Penelope. That would be perfect for her. Before he even had a chance to comprehend what he was doing, Colin went inside and asked the assistant if he could take a look.
“It’s platinum and there’s room for more charms if you wanted to add to them,” the older woman stated as she handed it over for him to look at.
Up close, it was even finer than he’d expected. He turned it slowly in his hands, thumb brushing over the tiny book charm, imagining it resting against her wrist as she wrote.
“Would you like to see any other charms?” the assistant asked kindly.
He hesitated, then nodded.
With a smile she pulled out a padded tray from under the counter and set it down on top.
He gazed down at the various silver adornments and let out a faint, incredulous huff of laughter. Of all the things…
“These, please,” he decided as he pointed to a pen nib and typewriter. And then as an afterthought, he pointed to a small, plain disc. “Can this be engraved today?” he asked.
“Of course.” She pulled out a piece of paper and pen. “Just write down what you want it to say.”
Colin picked up the pen and began to write. Overhearing Penelope talk had stirred up the memory of an old quote he’d read once a long time ago. Back when he’d had an idea to maybe become an author himself. Pipe dreams, obviously, but it would be appropriate for her now.
Now that she was leaving to pursue her own dreams.
Pushing aside the dart of unhappiness at the thought, he handed the paper back to the assistant.
“A writer is a world trapped in a person,” she read out slowly and gave him another smile. “That’s sweet.”
He swallowed.
“It’s for a friend,” he said, although why he felt the need to clarify he wasn’t sure.
“I’m sure they’ll love it,” the woman replied. She gathered everything together and placed them in a small plastic bag. “I’ll get them to put the charms on as well. It should take about an hour.”
Colin nodded and stared at the bangle as everything was rung up. He paid and headed outside, trying to ignore the little voice in his head that had suddenly woken up and was telling him that it was a bad idea.
Instead, he decided to go and get something to eat. His failure to finish his breakfast was making itself known and he went into one of the many café’s that were dotted around the town.
He chose a small table near the window and placed his bags down before ordering a cheese and pickle sandwich and coffee from the waitress.
The café was busy with people coming and going, cheeks flushed and parcels tucked under their arms from last minute Christmas shopping. Colin gazed blankly out of the window, his mind circling back to the jewellery shop.
To the bangle.
To the way he’d seen it and known.
That would be perfect for her.
He rolled his jaw, irritation flickering.
It’s for a friend.
He tutted and shook his head.
Was that for the assistant – or himself?
The insidious little voice returned, persistent now, threading itself between his thoughts no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
He shifted in his seat, trying to settle an unease that had been building ever since he’d handed over that scrap of paper and heard the assistant read the words aloud.
The waitress returned then, setting his coffee down with a soft clink before placing the sandwich beside it. He murmured his thanks automatically, barely glancing up, and waited until she’d moved away before looking down at his drink.
A wisp of steam swirled upward bringing with it the strong smell of coffee and he curled his hand around the warm mug. Lifting it to his lips, he took a sip of the hot brew, savouring the bitterness that burst onto his tongue.
The problem was, he finally realised, he’d gone and done it without thinking. He’d walked straight into that shop and bought Penelope something far more intimate than warranted a mere ‘friendship’.
He had thought he’d managed to quash that impulsive side of himself. The part ruled by his heart rather than his head. The part he’d learned to keep fiercely guarded.
His fingers tightened around the mug.
He knew he could handle many things. His siblings teasing. Anthony’s disapproval. He could even handle the ache of realising how much he’d missed by being absent and distracted and half-present for years.
But what he could not handle was being seen too clearly.
Not by her.
Not when he still didn’t know what she felt…or what she’d convinced herself he felt.
And that bangle revealed far more of him than he was prepared to show.
For now at least.
He took another sip of his drink, then had a bite of his sandwich.
No. The sensible thing would be to go and get her something else.
Something safe. Neutral.
There. Problem solved.
He finished eating, left a tip on the table, and stepped back out into the cold.
When he returned to the jewellers, the assistant greeted him with the same pleasant smile and reached under the counter.
“There we are,” she said, pulling out a small red velvet box.
She lifted the lid and took the bangle out to show him.
Colin’s fingers closed around it and he stared at the charms gleaming under the bright lights of the store. The tiny disc glinted as he turned it, the quote etched there making him pause.
Abruptly, he handed it back to the assistant with a curt nod.
“Thank you,” he said as she put it away and placed the box into a small bag.
Giving her a final, perfunctory smile he walked outside into the crisp air. Glancing at his watch he saw that it was later than he’d realised. He still needed to get some cards, tape and wrapping paper as well as Eloise’s gift.
And Penelope’s.
He went to the bookshop as planned and managed to find a sprayed edge copy of ‘Emma’ for his sister. Then he briefly toyed with the idea of getting a notebook for Penelope, but his mind kept going back to an emerald scarf he’d seen earlier.
The colour would look stunning on her, especially against her red hair.
He decided to buy it, the soft garment a whole lot safer than the small box he was carrying around.
Half an hour later, shopping done, he went back to Benedict’s car and put everything in the boot. Then he drove and picked up the kids presents and placed them on the rear seat before setting off to Aubrey Hall.
It was late afternoon by the time he returned, the light already fading into darkness.
It took him a couple of trips to bring everything in, then he found Benedict in the drawing room, scrolling through his phone.
“Everything okay?” his brother asked softly so as not wake up Sophie who was sleeping next to him, head resting on his shoulder.
“Fine,” Colin assured him with a smile as he handed him his keys, “And thanks again for your car.”
“You looked like you needed some time.”
Colin answered his brother’s searching look with a nod.
“I did.”
Benedict gazed at him a moment longer then gestured toward the door.
“Penelope was with mum and Eloise in the kitchen last time I looked.”
Colin glanced over his shoulder as though he could see them and then looked back at his brother.
“Thanks. I’ve got a few things to do upstairs.”
Benedict nodded and went back to his phone.
“Dinner’s at six,” he informed him.
Colin looked at his watch. That gave him just over an hour and a half to get everything wrapped. He went to his room and set to work.
Soon wrapping paper and tags were strewn over the floor as he packaged everything up. Finally, he sat back on his heels and surveyed the pile of presents.
Evidence, at least, that he had tried.
That he was trying now.
He stood up and carried the large box that contained Edmund’s drum kit to one corner of his room and placed all the other gifts in front of it. Then he turned and walked back to his chest of drawers and picked up the small jewellery box that sat on top.
Without opening it, he placed it into the top drawer and pushed it shut with a firm clack. He rested his palm briefly on the wood, then let out a slow breath and turned away.
Out of sight.
Not, he suspected though, out of mind.
CHAPTER 8