Chapter 42
“You said it’d be fine if we came to talk to you? For tea?”
George exhaled. Stepped back. “Guess you’d best come in and talk, then.” Jason squeezed Colby’s hand again, hoping to transmit encouragement. They followed.
The cottage watched their arrival with noncommittal walls, reserving judgment. Aged to fit its owner, it was unused to interruptions, and regarded Colby’s fluffy hair and Jason’s broadness with deep suspicion.
George led them to a rigorously clean sitting room, where white and blue paint and straight lines silently took note of Jason’s posture, and crossed his arms. Eyed the pastry box Colby held out. “What’s that, then? A bribe?”
“Oh, no.” Colby’s dismay was real. “No, it’s only—it’s the nice thing to do, isn’t it? To bring over a gift? And I was baking in any case, and I thought—well, I thought perhaps you’d like tarts? Raspberry? And also caramel cream in case you dislike raspberry? And also, er, cake? Battenberg? In case you prefer cake?”