After a quick shower, she pulled a long-sleeved black dress with a pretty low-cut collar – the only smart dress she owned – and a pair of tights out of her wardrobe. She would wear pumps inside Nadine’s house, but slipped on her snow boots to drive there and back. She slapped on some make-up, tied her hair in a neat ponytail and ran down the stairs.
‘You didn’t even have any tea,’ her granddad complained.
‘I’ll eat something there. There should be plenty.’
‘Don’t forget your hat!’
Sighing, she grabbed her hat and her coat, pecked a kiss on her granddad’s cheek, and rushed out.
Chapter Ten
Stefan pushed open the door to the Eagle and Child and froze as his eyes struggled to take in the Christmas extravaganza in front of him.
Decorations dangled from the ceiling. A huge tree stood in a corner, disappearing under baubles and tinsel, and fairy lights blinked and twinkled along the walls, along the beams, and along the counter. This was Christmas gone mad.
‘Are you going in or not?’ a man asked behind him.
‘Sorry.’ This really wasn’t the kind of place he wanted to spend an evening, or even an hour, but he owed Mason Austin a pint, and he was a man of his word. Gritting his teeth, he walked into the pub, bending down slightly to avoid the paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling.
He was an hour and a half early for his meeting with Mason Austin so he bought half-a-pint of bitter and found an empty spot at the far end of the counter from where he could both watch the football on the giant television screen and observe the locals. People stared, but that was only to be expected, so he nodded to those closest to him, ignored the others, and drank his beer as he focussed on the match as he waited for Mason.
One of the bar staff walked over and plucked a few empty glasses from the counter.
‘Hi there. I’m Sadie.’ She smiled and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you around.’
‘I arrived yesterday.’ Hopefully his curt reply would discourage her from asking any more questions. The last thing he wanted was to be dragged into a conversation. He’d had enough with Cassie’s chatting.
Her eyes opened wide. ‘You’re French! Am I right?’
He nodded and she put a hand on her heart. ‘I do love a man with a French accent. If you need help finding things to do in the area, give me a shout. I’ll be happy to show you around.’
‘Sadie, leave the punters alone and scoot back over here,’ a big man wearing a Christmas jumper with some kind of dog pattern – or was it a squirrel? – shouted from the other end of the counter. ‘There are glasses to be collected over here, in case you haven’t noticed.’
The girl sighed. ‘Big Jim is a slave driver. I’ll come back for a chat later, when he’s not looking.’ She winked and walked away.
‘There aren’t many new faces around here in the winter,’ an elderly gentleman said appearing next to him. ‘It’s only normal young Sadie should be curious.’ The man smiled. ‘You must be that Frenchman who’s staying at Belthorn.’
Without waiting for his answer he added, ‘I’m Joseph – Joseph Bell. It’s my granddaughter who’s looking after you.’
Stefan narrowed his eyes. ‘Cassie?’
‘That’s the one. Tell me, young man, how do you find Belthorn? A bit remote, I guess.’
‘It suits me.’
The man removed his cap and coat and hung them on the old-fashioned coat stand next to the counter.
‘I wanted to thank you for looking after Cassie tonight and making sure she got home all right.’
Stefan frowned. ‘I didn’t do anything. I only drove down to the village behind her.’
‘Still, it was nice of you. I do worry about her driving that old van in the snow, even if she claims that it’s safe. You’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you, my lad?’
Was Joseph Bell asking him to look after his granddaughter? If he knew how Stefan had failed the people in his care, he wouldn’t want him anywhere near a member of his family.
‘Of course,’ Joseph Bell carried on before Stefan could find a suitable reply, ‘you mustn’t tell her. She wouldn’t like that, since she thinks it’s her job to look after folks. You would think she’d have enough work with cleaning houses, but no… she brings folks flowers and cakes, sprays perfume everywhere because she says it improves people’s mood, and buys yards of fabrics to make cushions for everybody. I mean… how many cushions do people need?
‘Cassie is far too soft-hearted,’ he added. ‘Take tonight. One of her regular clients asked her to waitress at a party and she didn’t like to refuse so she went out again without having anything to eat. She said she would have something later, but I bet that Hartley woman won’t give her a minute to sit down.’
He gestured towards Stefan’s glass. ‘Can I get you another beer, son?’
Stefan shook his head. ‘I’m fine for now, thanks.’
Cassie’s grandfather ordered a pint and Darren Morse walked into the pub. He smiled at Joseph and nodded at Stefan.
Joseph cast him a surprised glance. ‘Do you know young Darren?’
‘I met him this afternoon at Belthorn,’ Stefan replied in a non-committal voice. ‘Cassie forgot something at the supermarket, and he brought it over.’
Joseph nodded. ‘That was nice of him. Then again, he is always very helpful. He does lots of jobs for us at the cottage. He’s a good lad but he’s a bit shy, and between you and me I think he’s in love with Cassie. He’s always asking about her.’
Stefan frowned. Morse was in love with Cassie? Yes, that could explain the way he had behaved with her in Belthorn’s kitchen and the story Stefan was sure he had made up about the bottle of wine…
The pub was filling up fast. Joseph Bell introduced Stefan to a couple of his friends, two elderly gentlemen he said he used to work with at the local quarry, and Mason Austin walked in soon after.
‘How’s the car?’ he asked.
‘Good. Thanks again for your help this morning. We agreed I owed you a pint. What are you drinking?’
Mason said he’d have a pint of Jennings and the two men talked about cars and motorbikes. When Stefan mentioned he’d been a helicopter pilot in the French army, the conversation immediately veered onto the Lake District mountain rescue team and their new S-92 helicopters.
Mason was easy to listen to, and even easier to talk to, and he seemed fascinated by the helicopters Stefan had piloted. ‘You mean you actually piloted both assault and transport helicopters?’
‘Gazelle, Tiger and Cougar, among others.’
‘No wonder you didn’t need me to look at your car engine this morning. I bet you can fix just about anything.’
Stefan smiled. ‘I manage.’
Perhaps it was the warm, friendly atmosphere that put him at ease, or the mechanic’s sympathetic questions, but Stefan talked more about himself than he’d ever intended to. He mentioned his career spanning over fifteen years, and hinted at a couple of missions he’d taken part in.
‘You were with Charles Ashville over there, weren’t you?’ Mason asked. ‘We heard that he was almost killed.’