The Hector Clause

by Clare Revell

  She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “Ten. One to change the light bulb and nine to stand on each other's shoulders.”

  Brie groaned. “Okay, I got one. What kind of bread do elves make sandwiches with?”

  “Easy. Shortbread.”

  She stamped her feet to keep the blood flowing. “Okay, try this one. What music do elves like best?”

  Hector looked at her. She could almost see the cogs turning as he tried to work it out. “Don’t know.”

  “Wrap music.”

  He shook his head. “That is really bad.”

  “Not as bad as the story of Cinder-elf-a. She lives at the North Pole, makes toys and rides around in a pumpkin.”

  They reached the head of the queue. Hector grabbed her hand, helping her into the carriage, his fingers now warm from the coffee cup. His touch shot stars straight through her. Their eyes locked, breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded.

  He clambered in beside her and settled the blanket across their laps, his knee touching hers.

  “Would you like to come back to my place for dinner?” The words were out before she remembered he’d offered to buy dinner somewhere. “It’s nothing fancy. I threw some beef and veg in the slow cooker before I left this morning. There’s plenty.”

  Hector smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  The carriage jerked, the movement sending her flying into him. “Sorry.”

  He put a hand on hers briefly. “It’s fine. Ain’t nuttin’ wrong with close fellowship, ma’am,” he drawled in what had to be the worst cowboy impression she’d ever heard.

  She smiled, trying to ignore the spear of disappointment that lanced her as he moved his hand. She was constantly aware of his presence beside her. His warmth, the way he moved, his cologne and shampoo. He pointed out things as the carriage made its way around the circuit of lights.

  Brie couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. Well, on earth anyway. She was this close to a bloke she was really, really fond of—loved. She had his undivided attention, and he enjoyed being with her. The carriage ride didn’t last nearly long enough, but at least she still had dinner to look forward to. Assuming he liked her cooking, that is. Otherwise the rest of the evening would turn into a damp squib.

  Brie let them into the flat and hung her coat on the coat rack. She turned the thermostat up and headed into the kitchen.

  Hector took a deep breath as she lifted the lid on the slow cooker. “That smells amazing.”

  “Thank you.” She stirred the pot. “So, did Mr. J agree to the party in the end?”

  He leaned against the work top. “Kind of. We were discussing it and he had some kind of attack.”

  Brie looked at him, shock running through her. “What kind of attack?” She pulled two plates from the cupboard and shoved them on top of each other in the microwave to warm.

  “Angina I think. Nan gave him some pills and averted it. According to the docs, he needs to rest.” He sighed. “What he really needs is to retire.”

  “Yes, but what he needs is someone he can trust to take over. That’s why he’s dragging his heels over doing it. It’s a family run store and he hates that the tradition will end with him.”

  The microwave dinged, and Brie pulled out the plates. “Can you grab the cutlery from the top drawer, salt and pepper from behind the hob and juice from the fridge, please?”

  “Sure.”

  She balanced the plates on top of the pot containing the stew and carried them through to the other room. Glad she kept mats on the table, she set the pot down and put two mats and coasters out.

  “Your tree’s looking a bit sad,” Hector said. He put the cutlery and cans down. “Did you leave the lights on all day? Because you know that’s a fire hazard.”

  Brie pulled the curtains, leaving a gap where the tree was so it could be seen from the street. “No. The tree and some of the lights are on a timer switch.”

  Hector sat and took her hand long enough to say grace.

  She handed him the serving spoon and waited until he’d filled his plate before helping herself. She glanced at him as he picked up his fork and took a mouthful, watching him anxiously, really hoping he liked it.

  “This is amazing. How did you do it?”

  “Thank you.” She picked up her own fork, beginning to eat. “It’s pretty easy. Seal the meat first thing, then throw it along with whatever veg you want into the slow cooker, cover with water, Oxo’s and seasoning and ignore for several hours. And the tree is sad because I really can’t get in the Christmas spirit this year.”

  “I can understand that. Besides, if you’re in Scotland anyway, there’s not much point in decorating.”

  “Exactly. Besides, Christmas is about Jesus. After all, if there were no Christmas, there’d be no Easter.”

  Hector smiled. “A girl after my own heart. Because no Easter means no salvation and no hope. Which church do you go to? I didn’t see you yesterday.”

  “Carey. You?”

  “Wycliffe. I’ve been meaning to try Carey. I’ve heard lots of good things about it. Maybe this weekend.”

  “There’s a Bible study and prayer meeting on Thursday if you fancy coming.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’d like that.” He finished what was on his plate.

  Brie smiled. “Either you really like my cooking or you’re hungry. There’s plenty more. Help yourself.”

  He picked up the serving spoon. “I will and it was a little of both.”

  After dinner he helped clear the table, and do the dishes. He sat on the sofa while Brie made coffee. She carried a cup in, to find him snoring quietly. Brie smiled and set the coffee down on the side. She padded back into the kitchen and started making the next cake. When he woke, she’d show him the ones she made so far.

  She’d just got the cake into the oven, when the phone rang. She grabbed it quickly. “Hi, Mum.”

  “That was quick.”

  “Phone was next to me.” Brie opted not to tell her mother she had a bloke sleeping on her couch and didn’t want to wake him. That wouldn’t go down so well, and probably result in her being told to catch the next plane north. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Have you made a decision yet?”

  She moved to the doorway of the lounge and pushed the door open. Her gaze fell on the figure on her couch. Hector was still sound asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful, with one arm thrown casually over his head.

  In that moment she knew what she wanted. But what she wanted and what she had to do were total opposites. She pulled the door closed again. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense. You really need to let us know.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and went back to the kitchen. “I know. And I will, but not yet. I need to pray over my choices.”

  Chapter Eleven

  HECTOR OPENED HIS EYES AS the smell of coffee and cake assailed his nostrils. His mouth immediately began to water. He was cold and stiff and this wasn’t his bedroom. He realized with a shock he was still at Brie’s place.

  A cup clinked on the coaster by his head. “Morning.”

  Morning? He glanced up. Brie looked decidedly too chirpy for still dark o’clock. “What time is it?”

  “Six thirty. In the morning.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” He sat up, pushing the crocheted granny square blanket and shawl down to his lap. “I hadn’t meant to fall sleep.”

  “It’s not a problem. You were tired. Anyway, I made you coffee. Bathroom is opposite the front door. There’s a towel on the edge of the bath and the water is hot if you want a shower. My Bible is right next to your coffee if you want to read.”

  “Thank you.” He grabbed the cup and chugged down half of the hot brew.

  “You’re welcome.” Her smile only served to brighten his morning. What he would give to have every day start like this. Would it be wrong of him to pray for that to happen? His gaze fell t
o the shawl in his lap. The fingers of his free hand ran over the intricate design. “This is beautiful. Mum would love something like this. Where did you get it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I made it.”

  He jerked his head to look at her. “Shut up.”

  “Seriously?” She grinned. “You’ve been spending way too long around teenagers and kids coming out with expressions like that.”

  He chuckled. “You’re right. Honestly, though. You made this?”

  Brie reached for the shawl, rubbing her fingers against the intricate stitches. “I love crocheting. I can make one for your mum if you’d like. What color?”

  Hardly able to believe his ears, Hector wasn’t going to argue. “She loves lilac and blue.”

  “Ok, I’ll pick up some wool at lunchtime.”

  “I’ll pay you to do it.”

  “You don’t have to pay me.”

  “Then let me buy the wool,” he insisted. “We can stop off at Hobbycraft on the way home tonight. And is that cake I smell?”

  She grinned. “Yes, but not for breakfast. I made a load of cupcakes while you slept last night. Then I got up at five to make another batch, which are due out in twenty minutes. That leaves me roughly another twenty cupcakes to make. I’ll show you before we leave. I’ll let you get on.” She closed the door, leaving him alone.

  Pushing aside the suddenly bereft feeling, Hector reached out and picked up Brie’s Bible. Passages were underlined, pages bent and creased and the leather cover was worn in places. He smiled. How did that song go? When a Bible’s well used, the devil’s not amused.

  He opened the page to where her ribbon bookmark was situated—Jeremiah 29. He loved that passage about the plans the Lord had for him. However, he didn’t fancy the seventy years in the wilderness which preceded it.

  Brie’s voice floated through from the kitchen as she sang. “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I…”

  Hector turned to Psalm 61, one of his favorites. “For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe. I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.”

  He dropped to his knees. “Lord, You know what today will bring. What joys and trials await us. You know how busy we will be today, so should I forget You, please don’t forget me. Keep me ever mindful of Your presence, Your love, Your sacrifice and Your grace. Keep me mindful at all times of how much I owe you and the debt of love that I can never repay in a thousand lifetimes. Lord, I know which way I want my life to go. I want a life with Brie, but only if that is the joint path you have chosen for us both. Please make Your will clear to both of us.”

  Twenty minutes later, showered and ready for action, he headed to the kitchen, as Brie took the cakes out of the oven. “They smell wonderful.”

  “You still can’t have any,” she laughed. “There is bacon, egg, beans and toast in the top oven.” She set the cakes, still in the tin, onto the cooling rack.

  “You spoil me. I shall fall asleep on your couch more often.” He grabbed the plate and inhaled deeply.

  “Nah, I treat all my guests like this. Paris has come to expect it. There’s ketchup or brown sauce in the cupboard by the window.”

  Hector perched on the stool by the work top and dumped brown sauce on the side of the plate. “Are you not having any?”

  “I’ve already eaten.” She pointed to the plate in the sink. “Want some more coffee?”

  “Please. Nick says I’m not human without several cups of coffee in the morning.”

  She laughed. He could never get enough of that sound. It filled his whole being with joy. A steaming mug appeared beside him as if from nowhere.

  He pointed to the cakes. “How did you say you were finishing them? I don’t remember.”

  “Each one will be covered in marzipan and iced. Making it a miniature Christmas cake.”

  “Nice.” He chewed slowly, savoring the bacon. He noticed several cards on the side. “Is today your birthday?”

  She blushed and picked up the cards. “Yeah.”

  He took them from her. “May I look?”

  “Go for it. Just ignore the one from Paris. We always send silly or rude ones to each other. Only he’s outdone himself this year.”

  Hector glanced at the card. “You’re like a sister,” he read.

  “I’m going to look for one that says like a brother for him for next year. It’s a long standing thing we have going.” She paused. “Please don’t tell anyone at work it’s my birthday. I don’t want a chorus of happy birthday Cutie Tinsel-Shoes this morning.”

  He grinned wickedly.

  She tilted her head. “I mean it. I’ll never cook you bacon again.”

  “Okay.” He held up a hand. “I give in. I won’t mention it. Happy birthday.”

  “Thank you.”

  He smirked, unable to help himself and started to sing. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Cutie Tinsel-Shoes, happy birthday to you.”

  She shook her head. “Are you driving this morning or am I?”

  “I will, as my car’s here anyway.”

  She winked. “It’ll have given the neighbors plenty to talk about, no doubt. I’ll jump in the shower and then I’ll be ready to go.”

  “I still think I need to quality control those cakes.”

  Brie grinned and gave him one from the cooking rack. “Fine. Just the one.”

  He finished his breakfast and washed up the few bits before slotting them into the dishwasher. Then he peeled the wrapper off the cupcake and inhaled deeply before biting into it.

  Brie came back into the kitchen smelling of lily of the valley. “You didn’t have to clear up all my mess.”

  “Least I can do. Those cakes, by the way, are amazing.” He smiled. “Come on then Cutie, let’s go to work. Before I twist your arm into letting me eat more of them.”

  Brie tugged her hat on and arrived in the grotto just as the bell went off. The traffic had been awful getting into town and they’d almost been late. Hector was nowhere in sight. She set up the sacks by his chair and checked they had enough presents to last at least until lunch time.

  Leon glanced around the work shop. “Anyone seen Santa?” he called.

  “Not since I got here. We arrived at the same time.”

  “Okay. We’ll delay the first sleigh ride for five minutes…”

  “Too late,” someone called. “Customers inbound.”

  “Then someone else has to be Santa. Do we have a spare costume?”

  The door burst open and Hector ran in, beard in hand. “Sorry I’m late. Cutie, can I have a word?”

  She moved over to his chair as he flopped into it. “Where did you get to?” She took the beard from his hand and slid it into place.

  He panted, trying to catch his breath. “I had to go make a pit stop.” He held out a box. “Sorry it’s not gift wrapped, but happy birthday.”

  Her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly. “Oh, Hector. Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

  “Yes, I did. Birthdays should be celebrated, no matter what.”

  She opened the box and her eyes filled again. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Her fingers ran over the gold cross lying on a rolled gold chain. “Thank you.”

  He lifted it gently from the box and fastened it around her neck. “It suits you.”

  “Thank you so much.” She hugged him tightly.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Brie didn’t let go, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. She could stay like this all day.

  “Break it up or go get a room,” Leon told them. “We have a queue.”

  Brie let go and ran her fingers over the chain before bringing the first child over.

  “Is Santa your boyfriend?” the child asked.

  Brie blushed.

  Hector chuckled. “Yes, but that isn’t why we were hugging. It’s Cutie’s birthday. She was thanking me for her present.” He lifted the child onto his lap. “So, what’s your
name?”

  Brie fingered the necklace. He must really like her to have bought her something this expensive. That particular jewelers wasn’t cheap. She’d often looked in the window and decided she couldn’t justify spending that much money on herself.

  She still wasn’t sure about Scotland. The plane left next week. The thought of not seeing him tore her apart, but at the same time she didn’t want to upset her parents. Shaking her head, now was not the time for such maudlin thoughts, she turned her attention back to her work.

  Lunch time came and she glanced at him. “Canteen today? They’re doing chicken and chips.”

  Hector rubbed his stomach, color touching his cheeks as it chose that moment to growl loudly. “Sounds good. Think I’m hungry…maybe.”

  Brie laughed. “I get the impression you are, yeah. I need to run to the ladies and up to the office to check something and I’ll be there.”

  “In that case, I’ll go grab two dinners and a table.”

  “Salad rather than peas with mine, please.”

  Hector sat at a table by the window. He put Brie’s chicken and chips opposite him and set the tray on the floor by the table leg. He sipped his lemonade and checked his phone. A text from Nan told him Grandad had gone into work this morning. That figured. The man never did know when to slow down.

  After a couple of minutes there was still no sign of Brie, but he was too hungry to wait. Besides, if she’d gone up to the office and got talking to Lizzie or his grandfather, she might be ages.

  He said grace and began eating. He was half way through his meal and still no sign of Brie.

  The fire alarm rang. Loud, strident, urgent.

  Hector looked up. They were kidding, right? Who in their right mind organized a fire practice in the middle of the day? Never mind in a packed store?

  The alarm didn’t stop.

  The tannoy chimed. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please make your way to the nearest exit. This is not a drill.”

  Hector pushed his chair back and stood. He followed everyone to the exit, wondering if there was panic on the shop floor. Ignoring the staff stairs that led out the back of the building, he tugged the beard and hat back on and darted onto the shop floor, heading towards the main staircase.