Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Bitter cold though it is, the outdoors are a joy. We’re high up a mountain of course, so the chances of perfect Christmas weather are good in any case, but the scene outside could have been scripted in from some Dickensian novel.

Snow lies, as they say, deep and crisp and even, well up to the knees. Over field and road and garden, it lies drifted up against walls and seats. Air catches in my throat, the chill inflating my sinuses, and my breath blows out in blue clouds, then hangs in the air, glinting.

The dogs race around, excited and enthusiastic, panting despite the cold. Poor Meg, low-slung and woolly as she is, collects snow on her underside. It balls up to dangle in blobs from her tummy and I keep having to pull them off her.

Wonder what it’s like down by the Mill?

White water rushing with white foam by even whiter snow…

Together we stroll; me, Michael and Ryan, with Charlotte’s father bringing up the rear; around the back of the house and across the courtyard towards the woods.

Lucid with cold; the day is blessed with that clear unsullied light you only get when the temperature is well below zero. The sky is a brilliant azure overhead, fading to opal at the horizon.

Michael leads us past white hummocks which I know, under the surface, are Charlotte’s vegetable garden. A few tattered greenish spikes stick up out from under the snow. “Remind me on the way back to take in some sprouts,” he says. “James was asking for them.”

The thick blanket of snow that fell overnight has frozen until the surface snaps like the iced top of a Christmas cake, and like the best such cakes, its brilliant white crust is highlighted by the dense green of a holly tree with its scarlet berries.

“I don’t remember seeing that tree there before,” I comment.

Michael huffs. “That’s because it was hidden by brambles until earlier this Summer. They’d scrambled up and all but swallowed it. I cleared the space around the tree and it’s paying dividends now.”

Klempner frowns. “So, why not pick your holly from there?”

Michael gives him a dry look. “Because I enjoy looking at it. So does Mitch. She can see it from her window and watch the birds eating the berries.”

Sure enough, when I look again, the tree dangles half-coconuts and fat-balls from its lower branches. A bird table close by homes a storm of small riotous birds.

the snow, having to lift our feet between steps. “I’ll clear this later,” says Michael.

with

towards the treeline, sweeping out towards the meadows which stretch down the mountain. “There’re several hollies in the hedgerow at the edge of the woodland and one really spectacular tree. It’s covered in berries… at least

feet sinking through. It’s like walking on a cross-trainer and my thighs

leaves reflect the bright sunshine. Glossy blobs of ice twinkle at the prickles and the branches are brilliant with berries. As we draw closer the sound of squabbling

think they’re very happy about us stealing their

happy when the dogs spot them and tear across,

handful of snow, cracking through the crisp surface to

the snowball and it arcs through the air, bursting into icy shrapnel as it lands. The dogs charge after it, a howling, bouncing hairy mass, not

it in his hand to a ball, but as he swings

he tips back and

all but wetting

under the snow with only a moving bulge on the surface

*****

us laden with holly, we return to the house. Klempner looks Michael up and down. “A change of clothes

about it. I’m fucking frozen.” But the big, handsome blond man is

vegetable garden again. “Sprouts?”

This one resists, its feet rooted in the frozen ground. Michael tries again, but when it doesn’t come free, produces his pruning saw. He brandishes the cut stalk. “That’s one part of Christmas dinner sorted

*****

stapling sheets together, several copies of the same

of hot wine into my hands, steaming and spicy. Another into Ryan’s. I suck at it and a warm glow shimmers down through my

contract for the Mill. Read it at your leisure. Take your time, both of you. To expedite matters, I’ve arranged matters so that you would be buying the property from me. Be

the contract from him. “We buy it from

do this, Kirstie, I will take up my option to buy the property, then you will buy it from me.