Chapter 27
Our last stop was Here Be Flagons, closed to the public for one night only. When we got there, we discovered Yolanda, Cameron and Stewart already propping up the bar along with Deano and Jasmine, plus Roger Collingwood, who’d invited himself because he didn’t like being left out. Under Deano’s instruction, they’d pushed furniture to the edges to create a sort of mingle area, the buffet tables slicing it into a couple of aisles.
Foodwise, Deano had really risen to the occasion. Along with his dainty French nibbles, he’d managed Yorkshire pud canapés with roast beef, cocktail sticks with cubes of Christmas cake and Wensleydale on them – not very seasonal but certainly local – fat rascals, parkin slices, and an impressive centrepiece of a sponge cake iced with sugar white roses, a little Yorkshire flag and Tricolor crossed on top. The Tour committee, hungry after their walk in the fresh moorland air, lost no time tucking in.
Vanessa eventually managed to peel herself off Stewart, to whom she’d attached herself almost immediately – much to the disgust of Yolanda, forced to get her flirting fix from Deano instead – and came to find me at the bar.
‘What an unusual place, my dear,’ she said, scanning the restaurant’s oak-and-armour decor. ‘How on earth did a bright young thing like you end up here?’
‘It was my dad’s.’
‘It can’t be making money though. These novelty places are all very well for the city, but in the middle of nowhere…’
‘We manage,’ I said, a trifle defensively. ‘We’ve got a very talented chef.’
I could see our very talented chef out of the corner of my eye, helping himself to a double whisky while beatboxing Smack My Bitch Up under his breath. I crossed my fingers, hoping Vanessa wouldn’t ask to be introduced.
‘The food is excellent.’ She picked up a cocktail stick from the paper plate she was holding. ‘Fruitcake and cheese. What a bizarre combination.’
‘Round here we like it like that.’
‘Yes, it does seem to work.’ And she popped it in her mouth.
‘Well, Miss Donati,’ she said when she’d finished. ‘It’s been an odd day. We won’t forget it in a hurry, I assure you.’
‘When will we hear from you?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything officially until the schedule is released in January.’ She lowered her voice. ‘But between ourselves, you have nothing to worry about. It’s a wonderful little place, isn’t it? And your viaduct – spectacular. I’ll be giving my very highest recommendation.’ Giving my arm a pat, she wandered off in search of Stew.
Cameron spotted me staring after her and came over, leaving Tom to entertain Judy from the committee.
‘You ok, Lana?’ he said, waving a hand in front of my face. ‘You look kind of stoned.’
‘Yeah.’ I shook my head, blinking. ‘We got it.’
‘What?’
‘We got the route. A half-cut Vanessa Christmas just came over and she said some stuff about restaurants and Wensleydale and… and she said we got it.’
‘Oh my God!’
‘It worked.’ I threw my arms round him and squeezed. ‘Arghh! It worked, Cam! All Tom’s bullshitting and Stewart’s bums and Gerry’s sheep – it was just the right amount of weird.’
‘Brilliant!’ he said, hugging me back. ‘Can we tell the others?’
‘Better wait till the committee’s gone. It’s sort of unofficial until January. But she definitely seemed to be saying it was a done deal, as long as we can get the viaduct sorted.’
‘And what if we can’t?’ Cam said. ‘Sienna Edge could still chuck us a spanner, couldn’t she?’
‘Maybe.’ I lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘There could be good news on that front too though. This is top secret, but our man on the council says there might not even be any barbastelles. Not any more.’
‘Did he? Wow, that’s huge!’ He held me back to grin at me. ‘Some day, eh?’
‘You can say that again. I’m knackered.’
‘Better let me go now, love,’ Cameron said, glancing round the room. ‘Me and Tom aren’t officially an item yet. People might get the wrong idea.’
I untangled myself from the hug. ‘But everyone knows, don’t they?’
‘Our group does. No one else.’ He looked dejected. ‘Your brother wants to keep it quiet.’
I hopped up on a barstool and patted the one next to me for Cam. ‘You don’t though, right?’
‘I hate secrets,’ he said, climbing on to the stool. ‘And I don’t see the point of this one. Not exactly an illicit liaison, is it?’
‘But it is early days. You want to take things slowly.’
‘Still. When he doesn’t even want to hold hands in case people see… it’s hard not to feel he’s ashamed of me.’
I shook my head. ‘That’s not it at all. He’s just shy, he hates the idea of people talking.’
Cameron frowned. ‘Why would they? There’s not a lot of homophobia here, is there?’
‘No, but there aren’t a lot of same-sex couples either,’ I said. ‘Not much happens in Egglethwaite, people’ll gossip about anything out of the ordinary.’
He shrugged. ‘Let them, if they lead such quiet lives. I’m not fussed.’
‘But Tom is. Suppose it goes back to our dad really.’
‘What, he had a problem with Tom being gay?’
‘Sort of, but not like you might think,’ I said, flinching. It was hard, remembering Dad as anything less than perfect. ‘When Tom came out Dad just went quiet for a bit, then said he didn’t understand it personally but he wanted his kids to be happy. Gave him a hug and told him not to worry about it.’
‘So what was the issue?’ Cameron asked. ‘Sounds like everyone’s dream come-out.’
‘Because Dad really didn’t understand, and that bothered our Tom. He never said anything, but I know it did. Something that seemed to him like the most uncomplicated thing in the world being questioned. Gerry’s the same. He doesn’t disapprove exactly, but heterosexual is always default.’ I sighed. ‘And then there was this distinction Dad made, between the two of us.’
‘He treated you differently than Tom?’
‘He would’ve said he didn’t. I don’t think he even noticed he was doing it. But it was there, all the same. If he liked my boyfriends, he’d invite them for tea, shake hands, all that stuff. He never did that with Tom’s boyfriends. Oh, he’d have them over if Tom invited them – cook all his best dishes for them, almost like he was overcompensating. But he never asked.’
‘And then you felt guilty.’
‘Yes,’ I said in a small voice. ‘It felt like I was taking Dad away from Tom.’
‘It wasn’t your fault, Lana,’ Cam said, rubbing my back. ‘Tom says you’re a great sister. His best friend too.’
I sent a fond smile in Tom’s direction. ‘Well, back at him. Not that we ever say it to each other.’
‘Seems like you don’t need to.’
‘So how about you?’ I asked. ‘Are your parents fine with it?’
‘Ha! Yeah, funny story. I spent years worrying about telling them, then one day it was getting serious with a lad from uni so I sat them down to break the news. They looked worried sick. Then when I told them I was bi, my mum just looked super-relieved and said “Oh, we know that”. Thought I was going to say I’d got hooked on Class-As or something.’
I laughed.
‘Anyway, softened the blow before I told them about my crystal meth habit,’ Cameron said, grinning.
‘Can I ask something personal, Cam?’
‘If you like.’
‘I was just wondering – well, you’ve got a zoology degree,’ I said. ‘How come you work in a chip shop?’
‘What’s wrong with working in a chip shop?’
‘Nothing. Just all the fish are sort of… dead. Couldn’t you be doing something with less batter and more, you know, zoology?’
He sighed. ‘I don’t know, Lana. It was the family business, stopgap after uni. And a year became two, and three… There’s jobs enough down south, but this place – gets under your skin, doesn’t it?’
‘I know what you mean.’
‘I could ask you the same,’ he said, glancing at the painted coat of arms behind the bar. ‘You’re a clever girl, Lana Donati. What’re you doing trapped here in the Dark Ages?’
I shrugged. ‘Same really. I always had this thing when I was young, about astronomy. And I said it was Dad’s illness stopped me following it. But now he’s gone, I just think, where can you see the Milky Way better than the moors on a clear night?’
‘Yeah. It does feel like everywhere else is trading down.’
I patted his knee. ‘Well, for Tom’s sake I’m glad you stuck around. You two go perfect together.’
‘Wish he thought so,’ Cameron said, casting a morose look at Tom laughing with Sue and Judy by the buffet table.
‘He does. He’s probably just scared if he rushes things, he’ll mess it up. Talk to him if you’re worried about it.’ I pushed back my stool. ‘Right, buffet’s done, I think. I’d better let Deano know he can shut everything down in the kitchen.’
I was assuming the kitchen was where Deano was hiding, since I couldn’t see him. I found him taking a time out, leaning against the cooker sipping his stolen whisky.
‘Helping yourself to my booze, you cheeky get?’
He shrugged. ‘I earned it. You’ve had enough free labour out of me today.’
‘Give us some then.’ I took the whisky off him and downed a swig.
‘Come to congratulate me?’ he said.
‘You did do well on the buffet. Nice idea with the fruitcake.’
‘Cheers. So what do you reckon to our chances?’
I grinned. ‘Well we got it.’
‘Shit! They told you already?’
‘Sort of off the record, but yeah. Turns out the viaduct plus Stew in the buff is a winning combination.’
Deano squinted at me. ‘Speaking of, what’s with you and Stew?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, hiding my face in the whisky tumbler. ‘There’s nothing with us.’
He didn’t say anything. He just examined my face with a cross-eyed look, like he was reading my soul. The man must be part barbastelle.
‘All right,’ he said at last.
‘Is that it, “all right”?’
He shrugged. ‘Why, what else do you want?’
‘Normally when people grill me on Stewart McLean they start dishing out free advice all over the shop.’
‘You can have some advice if you want it.’
‘Yeah, go on,’ I said with a resigned sigh. ‘I’m starting a collection.’
‘Well, you’re in love with him, so based on that my advice is go for it.’
I actually staggered backwards. ‘Say that again.’
‘I said go for it.’
‘Not that bit. The first bit.’
‘Oh, right. Yeah, I said you’re in love with him.’
‘No I’m not.’ I managed a pretty obvious fake laugh. ‘Don’t be daft, Deano.’
‘All right.’
‘Can you stop saying “all right”?’
‘All right.’ He took the half-forgotten whisky out of my hand and finished it. ‘Anyway, lie to yourself if you like, that’s your business. Just don’t forget you owe me a snog. You can’t get out of it this time, Lanasaurus, you promised.’
I groaned. ‘I did, didn’t I? Ok, pucker up then. No tongues, mind.’
And just as I planted a smacker right on his lips, I heard the door swing open.
‘Oh my God, I knew it!’ came a distraught whisper from behind us.
It was Jasmine.