Where There's a Kilt, There's a Way by Ella Stainton

Author:Ella Stainton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2020-12-11T14:44:32+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Joachim

“It appears that you’re very popular with your students, Dr. Cockburn.” Dr. Ilse Grell startled Joachim as he’d been finally able to pack up his satchel to head back to the flat.

He gave a rueful shake of his head. “They’re intrigued with the opportunity to practice their English, is my guess.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure that’s why that flock of young women lingered...hmm—” Ilse checked her watch “—three quarters of an hour past the end of your lecture.”

“Has it been so long?” He snapped the buckle of his brown-leather workbag. It had been a birthday present from Ainsley and had that still-new satisfying recoil from the belt. “I’m sure it’s just that—”

Ilse held up her hand to keep him from continuing. “I’d agree there are elements involved of fascination with the subject matter, but I’d say a large portion of it is your face. But don’t mind me, Joachim. I’m merely observing, not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

She laughed, and yet it did make him feel a bit unpleasantly squirmy in his belly, the awkwardness of taking her compliment.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked, as pleasantly as he could while firmly changing the conversation. “Rasmus is just down in the lounge.”

“Indeed, I saw him already. We’re headed downtown for a late lunch to make the best of the beautiful weather. Would you care to join us?”

Joachim continued busying himself with trivial tasks at the great wooden desk that sat on the left side of the classroom. He glanced at her from under his lashes. Perhaps she was just being friendly. Unspoken intentions were often lost in translation.

And the thing was, he wasn’t particularly eager to go home.

Since his bungling of delivering the news to Helle that Linus Ekström was murdered, Helle became increasingly uncomfortable in his company. Leaving the room on a flimsy pretext as soon as Joachim entered. Dashing down the hall when Joachim happened to be in it the same time as him.

The previous evening was the worst. Helle had just sat down to supper when Joachim came into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. Poor Helle had almost immediately jumped from his chair and scraped the contents of his full plate into the bin.

Unable to bear the guilt a moment longer, Joachim tried to craft an apology, but poor Helle had merely brushed him off with a nervous smile and fled the room.

Any excuse not to return was good enough to grasp with both hands. “I would, thanks for asking.”

And surely if Ilse had been flirting with him, she wouldn’t keep it up around Rasmus.

He telephoned the flat to let Helle know where he was headed, though the conversation was rushed and he hung up with relief. The three soon headed down their favorite Kungsportsavenyn for traditional Swedish fare. Because the afternoon was so warm, they chose from restaurants that had outdoor dining spaces.

“I hope you don’t mind köttbullar, Joachim. These are very like my mother used to make them.” Rasmus smacked his lips.

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