by K. J. Frost
We enter Gordon Templeton’s study, and turn, waiting for him to close the door behind us. Once he has, he crosses the room, and sits behind a large oak desk.
“Take a seat,” he says genially, indicating the two chairs in front of him and I take Amelie’s hand, leading her over and letting her sit before I do, and then clasping her hand again, partly as a demonstration of my support, but mainly because I want to. The room is more of a library than a study, three of the walls being lined entirely with bookshelves, and the third being taken up with a large bay window. Other than the desk and chairs, there is a small drinks cabinet to one side of the window, and a wireless, mounted on a very attractive cupboard on the other.
Amelie’s uncle leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his smiling face settled on his ward, before he turns to me. “Before we get down to the main purpose of this meeting,” he says, as though addressing a committee in the House of Commons, “I feel it would be helpful if you and I could work out what we’re going to call each other.” He takes a deep breath. “It seems rather formal for you to keep addressing me as either ‘sir’ or ‘Mr Templeton’, and thinking about it, I believe I’ve only ever called you ‘Inspector’.”
I can’t help chuckling. “Yes, I think you have.”
“Well, I can’t possibly call you ‘Inspector’ for the rest of our lives, so in the circumstances, I think it would be easier, if you’d call me Gordon,” he says. “And perhaps I can call you Rufus?”
“Of course, sir.” He stares at me. “I mean, Gordon,” I correct myself.
He leans back, laying his hands flat on the table. “Good,” he says. “I’m glad we got that settled. Now… as I’m sure you’re aware, being as I asked you to speak to her about it in the first place, Amelie and I had a small matter to settle.” I notice his use of the past tense and turn to my fiancée, who’s looking at me.
“You spoke to him already?” I ask and she nods her head.
“I know you said you’d be here with me if I needed you to be, but I decided this was something I had to do by myself.”
“We had a very full and very frank talk,” Gordon says and I turn back to face him. His expression is more serious now, his eyes fixed on Amelie, not me, even though it’s me he’s talking to. At least I think it is. “Amelie said her piece and I said mine… and, after I’d convinced her that I love her just as much as I loved Beth, and I always will, she agreed to let me give her away to you… my future son-in-law.”
I notice his careful use of terminology, presumably to reinforce his reasoning with Amelie, that although there’s no blood tie between them, she’s his daughter, just the same as Beth ever was.
I turn in my seat to face Amelie and she looks up at me. “You’re happy with this?” I say, because I have to make sure, even though the man is sitting opposite me.
“Yes,” she says and nods her head, smiling, just to make certain I’ve got the message.
“You’re positive? Because if you’re not…”
“I’m happy, Rufus. Honestly.” The sincerity in her voice is unmistakable and I take a breath, turning back to look at Gordon Templeton, who’s staring at me, rather disgruntled.
“Just doing my job,” I point out to him, giving Amelie’s hand a squeeze. His brow creases in confusion.
“Your job?”
“Yes. It’s my job to make sure Amelie is happy. In everything. And if she isn’t, then it’s my job to put that right.”
“So, if she’d said she wasn’t happy?” he asks.
“I’d have put it right. Sir.”
He stares at me for a moment – quite a long moment – and then smiles and slowly nods his head, leaning right back in his chair. “Well, while we’re on the subject of putting things right, I—I have a few things to make up for.” His voice falters and he looks down at the table for a moment. “You both know I’ve done things in my past that I’m not proud of, and you both know that the current situation, between myself and Miss Foster, isn’t ideal. Not for everyone, anyway.” Two small dots of red appear on his cheeks and he coughs, covering his mouth with his clenched fist to conceal his embarrassment, I think. “I want to do something to… to make amends for at least some of those wrongs,” he continues eventually. “I want to give you a wedding present.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Amelie says, before I can.
He holds up his hand, preventing either of us from speaking, and opens the drawer to his right, pulling out an envelope, which he places on the desk in front of him. “I want to,” he repeats. “I need to. Believe me, this is for my benefit as much as yours.” I can see the emotion in his face and hear it in his voice and I turn to glance at Amelie. There are tears forming in her eyes and I move my chair a little closer to hers, just as Templeton says, “I—I want to give you a house.”
I turn back to face him. “A what?” The words spill out of my mouth, unbidden.
“A house,” he repeats unnecessarily, being as I heard him the first time. “I want to give you both a head start.”
“Even so…” He holds up his hand again.
“Ordinarily, I’d have suggested we could go and look at properties together, so you could choose something to your tastes, but you’ve… um…” He fumbles over his words. “You’ve decided to get married a little sooner than I’d anticipated.”
“Yes,” I reply simply, before Amelie feels any obligation to admit a reason for our haste.
“Unfortunately, that means it’s going to be difficult for me to buy you somewhere new,” he says, sounding disappointed. “However, I do already own several properties in the village…”
“But they’re rented out, aren’t they?” Amelie says, showing she was aware of this much at least, even though it’s news to me.
“All except one,” he replies, smiling. “I own a couple of terraced houses in School Road, one of which has just become vacant, literally a couple of weeks ago. It’s not big. It’s got a sitting and dining room, a small kitchen, and the bathroom beyond that, and then two bedrooms upstairs. It’ll give you a start though, so if you want it…” He pushes the envelope across the table. “It’s yours.”
“You’ll seriously give us a house?” Amelie’s breathless.
“Yes. It needs some work,” he says, with a cautious tone to his voice. “I’m afraid the last tenant didn’t take very good care of it, which is why I moved them out. I’ll get it fixed up for you…”
“Can we be involved in that?” Amelie leans forward.
“Of course, my dear.” He smiles. “I’ll take you to see it after Christmas, if you’d like, and you can start making plans.”
Amelie turns to me, her eyes alight. “What do you think?” she asks, and I smile my gratitude that she’s asking me.
“I’m not trying to steal your thunder, Rufus,” Templeton says, before I can reply. “I appreciate that you want to provide for your wife, like any husband. I’m just trying to make that easier, I suppose…”
“I understand,” I reply. “And I’m grateful.” I get to my feet, and Amelie joins me, our hands still clasped together. “Can we agree a compromise?”
He stands himself and looks up at me. “A compromise?”
“Yes. I’ll accept the house, if you agree that I can pay for the work to be done.”
He thinks for a moment, and then nods his head. “Very well,” he sighs. “I’m learning not to argue with you.”
I release Amelie’s hand for a moment, and hold mine out to him, which he accepts and we shake hands before he offers me the envelope. “The documentation is all in there,” he says. “The house is yours, and I hope you’ll both be very happy there.”
“Thank you,” I reply, as Amelie dashes around the desk and hugs him.
“Thank you, Uncle,” she says. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome, my dear,” he replies, looking down at her, a contented smile on his face as he brushes his fingertips down her cheek. “Just make a better job of marriage
than I have,” he murmurs and leans down, kissing the spot where his fingers just touched her. I feel a pang of jealousy, remembering how I felt when I first saw them together, but I quash it down quickly as Amelie comes back to me, her face a picture of happiness.
She links our arms, my hand being occupied with holding the envelope, and with a last ‘thank you’ to her uncle, she leads me back into the hallway.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” she asks once we’re alone, nodding down to the envelope.
“I’m happy if you’re happy,” I reply.
She tilts her head to one side. “Tell me the truth, Rufus. If you don’t want this, we’ll go back in there and give him back his envelope. And his house.”
“I am telling you the truth, darling. It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all.” I smile, because I can’t help it. “To be honest, I hadn’t even considered where we were going to live once we were married. I mean, I knew we’d have to live somewhere, and I’d considered having to save up, but when we decided to get married so quickly, the thought of where we’d live didn’t even cross my mind.” I hold up the envelope. “This solves that, doesn’t it?”
“It does rather.” She smiles. “I hadn’t thought about it either,” she admits. “It’s silly isn’t it? My head’s been so full of the excitement of it all, of the engagement and the wedding plans, I hadn’t really thought about anything beyond that.”
“Hadn’t you?” She shakes her head and I put my arm around her, pulling her close to me, as I whisper in her ear, “I’d thought as far ahead as the honeymoon,” and I lean back again, looking down at her as the blush spreads up her beautiful cheeks.
“Oh… well, I’d thought about that too.”
“In a good way?” I ask.
“Yes… mainly.”
“What does that mean?” I feel a shiver of fear creep up my spine.
“We can’t talk here,” she murmurs, glancing at the door to her uncle’s study.
“No, we can’t.” But we’re going to talk somewhere. “Come with me,” I murmur and lead her to the end of the stairs, folding the envelope and putting it in my coat pocket before draping it around her shoulders. It swamps her, but that just means she looks even more adorable than usual.
“What are you doing?” She looks up at me.
“Taking you outside for a minute.”
“But you’ll freeze.”
“No, I won’t.”
“I have my own coat, Rufus…” she reasons.
“I don’t care.” I take her hand and lead her to the door, opening it and dragging her outside onto the doorstep, then pulling the door to behind us.
“Tell me what you you meant?” I ask her. “Tell me why you said ‘mainly’ just now? Aren’t you looking forward to being married?” I thought she was. I thought she felt the same as I do.
“Yes… but sometimes I feel nervous.”
“What about? Marrying me?”
“No.” She smiles and shakes her head. “About the… the wedding night.”
I sigh out my relief. “You’re nervous? After all the things we’ve already done? After all the kisses, the touches, all the words we’ve said to each other?” She nods her head.
“I know it sounds ridiculous, considering all of that, but…”
“No, it doesn’t.” I lean down and kiss her lips, just briefly. “But surely you know I’ll… well, I’ll make it alright. I’ll take care of you.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then you must also know you have nothing to be nervous of. I promise.”
“It… it feels like such a big step.”
“Well, we don’t have to make it in one go,” I remind her, kissing her again and hearing her slight moan. “We can take it slowly. We’ve got our whole lives, remember?”
“Good Lord, Rufus…” she says, leaning back in my arms and staring up at me, her eyes wide, “I may be nervous, but I’m not waiting that long.” I throw back my head and laugh, and she joins in, as I capture her perfect giggle with my kiss, holding her close, until we’re both breathing hard. “I do like it when you do that,” she sighs, pulling back at last, her eyes sparkling with that familiar need.
“So do I.” I cup her cheek with my hand. “Do you think your sudden bout of nerves might have something to do with the fact that I haven’t been able to spend much time with you over the last few days? You don’t normally seem nervous around me, and our moments together since the case ended have been rather brief and snatched, haven’t they?” She tries to bow her head. “Look at me, Amelie.” She raises her eyes again. “Do you think that’s what it is?”
“Possibly,” she murmurs. “I can’t help missing you.”
“I can’t help missing you either. But please try and remember… you have nothing to worry about, and nothing to fear. Not now. Not on our wedding night. Not with me. Not ever.”
We’re all together in the sitting room, with Christmas music playing on the wireless in the background, enjoying some very exotic cocktails before lunch. I have no idea where Aunt Dotty got hold of the ingredients and I’m not going to ask either, simply because I’d hate to have to arrest her.
Amelie is beside me on the sofa, with my mother and Aunt Dotty opposite, and Issa sitting on one of the chairs.
“What was the emergency this morning?” my mother asks, and Amelie turns to me.
“You didn’t explain?” she says, looking surprised. I got back here over an hour before Amelie arrived, but decided this was something the two of us should tell my relatives together, and made a silly excuse for my visit to Amelie this morning. Obviously it wasn’t an excuse my mother was going to believe.
“No. I thought we should do that together,” I explain.
“Now I’m really intrigued,” my mother replies, sitting forward slightly and clasping her hands together.
“Gordon Templeton wanted to see us.” I take a sip of my cocktail, letting the alcohol works its magic. “Amelie’s agreed that he can give her away.”
“That’s good news.” Aunt Dotty smiles across at us.
“Hmm.” My mother narrows her eyes. “But that’s not the reason you went over there, is it?”
“No… and if they still burned witches at the stake, they’d be building a fire as we speak,” I remark and she does her best to look affronted. “Gordon wanted to give us a wedding present as well.”
“Already?” Issa remarks.
“Yes. He’s given us a house.”
My mother’s mouth drops open and I stifle a laugh at the sight of her, lost for words, for once in her life.
“A house?” It’s Dotty who speaks first. “Where?”
“Not far away. It’s in School Road.”
“Oh, thank God for that,” she breathes, taking a swig of her drink. “I was worried you were going to be moving away.”
I shake my head. “No. You’re stuck with us for the foreseeable future, I’m afraid.” I smile across at her and she returns the gesture, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a property he already owns, and it needs some work doing – which I’m going to pay for – and he’s going to take us to see it after Christmas.”
“That’s very generous of him,” my mother remarks, smiling.
“Yes, it is.” I don’t tell her his reasoning, because as far as I’m concerned, that’s between the three of us. “The really ridiculous thing is, that until he made the offer, neither Amelie nor myself had even considered where we were going to live after the wedding. Can you believe that?”
“Yes,” Issa replies, smiling. “You’re both far too wrapped up in each other to think of anything sensible.”
“Thank you,” I say, nodding to her and she nods back. She didn’t mean it as a compliment, but as far as I’m concerned, being wrapped up in Amelie is the best place for me to be, and as she looks at me, I know she understands that too.
“I’d thought about it,” Mother remarks and we all turn to her.
“You had?” I ask.
“Oh y
es.”
“And what conclusions had you drawn?”
“I’d assumed you’d stay on here,” she says and for a moment, I wonder if there’s a hint of sadness to her voice and behind her eyes, that we won’t be. “Still,” she says, squaring her shoulders, “this is much better.”
I look at her and she smiles. I smile back, but I think we both know she’s putting on a brave face.
“We’ll only be down the road,” Amelie says, possibly sensing my mother’s disquiet as well. “And I’ll be coming back here all the time.” I turn to look at her, surprised by this revelation.
“You will?”
“Yes.” She glances up at me. “I’m going to need help.”
Now I’m really confused. “What with? I’m not that difficult to live with, you know.”
She struggles to control a giggle as she leans into me. “I know… but you do realise I can’t cook, don’t you?”
“No, I didn’t realise that.”
“Want to change your mind?” she asks, teasing. At least, I hope she’s teasing.
“No. Never. And anyway, I can cook.”
“I know. But you also have to go out to work… and your hours are hardly regular. And that means I’m going to have to learn to cook.”
“And you want my mother and my aunts to teach you?”
“Well, Mary’s offered to help,” she says, referring to the cook who’s employed by her uncle and aunt, “but I thought your mother and your aunts might join in too… if they don’t mind.”
“We’d love to,” my mother blurts out, grinning.
“It seems like a good idea to me,” Amelie continues. “Because, believe me, I’m going to need all the help I can get, and they know the things you like to eat, after all.”
“I’d agree…” I remark.
“But?” She looks at me doubtfully.
“I’m just worried about the trouble they can get you into in my absence… that’s all.”
Amelie grins. “All sorts, I imagine. It’ll be such fun.”
Oh dear God…