New Year's Promise by Anna Clifton

Author:Anna Clifton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Escape Publishing

Chapter 8

‘Okay, Ellie. I’ve peeled the potatoes. What now?’

Guy Halligan, wearing a kitsch reindeer apron he’d bought specially for the day, turned to face his sister.

Ellie looked up from the table where she’d been chopping fruit and smiled.

‘Do you know that you have potato dirt all over your face? How did you manage that?’ She laughed, reaching up to brush it off with a tea towel.

‘I guess I’m just losing myself in all of this inspired culinary creativity,’ he offered with a grin.

Harry snorted from the corner of the kitchen where Guy had set him up in a makeshift lounge chair.

‘Do you have something to say, Harry?’ Guy challenged.

‘Just that your idea of culinary creativity is pasta with apricot and cheese sauce.’

‘I’ve never made that!’

‘No, but you’re capable of it.’ Harry chuckled.

‘Seeing as you’re going to do nothing but sit around on your arse all day, maybe you should leave the cooking to Ellie and me,’ Guy proposed.

Ellie could tell that Guy was thoroughly enjoying having Harry out of his usual role as chief cook for Christmas lunch.

‘Damn it, Ellie!’ Harry objected. ‘Can’t I do something? Guy’s right. I can’t sit here all day doing nothing.’

‘I know all this sitting around is driving you crazy, Harry, but your doctor was clear about the one rule she had for letting you home for Christmas: you’re to do absolutely nothing.’

‘But Christmas lunch is my thing! I can’t sit back and watch Guy hack up potatoes and wreck a perfectly good ham.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll prepare the ham,’ Ellie reassured him with a smile. ‘Guy can peel vegetables — it’s called damage control.’

‘Does no one in this family have any faith in my cooking skills?’ Guy protested.

‘No!’ Harry and Ellie responded in unequivocal unison.

‘Well, if you don’t like my cooking, then I’ll take it you don’t like my wine either,’ Guy announced with menace. ‘And I was planning on opening a bottle of Grange red today, but now you’re not going to get any, Elena Jane Halligan, because you’ve been so rude about my cooking.’

‘You can’t open a bottle of Grange when I’m not allowed to drink,’ Harry complained.

‘Oh yes I can,’ Guy insisted with an evil smile. ‘We’re going to drink a toast to your good health. But don’t worry, if you tell me I’m a great cook before Christmas is over, I’ll open another one when your doctor gives you the all clear to drink again.’

Harry looked only partially satisfied with that outcome.

‘Here, Harry, cheer up,’ Ellie ordered with a laugh. ‘I’ll let you shell some peas for me,’ she added magnanimously, placing a tray on his knees with a bag of fresh peas and a bowl.’

‘Ellie, what can I say; I’m overwhelmed.’

Ellie leaned over and gave him a hug, the soft elf hat that Guy had bought him on a dangerous lean to one side, its bell tinkling against his ear every now and then.

‘How long before Justin gets here?’ Guy asked.

‘Any minute now,’ Ellie threw back, feigning relaxed indifference for all she was worth.

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