‘Okay, enough about work.’ She shook her head a little to shake the mishmash of thoughts away. ‘How’re things with you? I know it’s only been two days since I’ve seen you but how’s Grandad Nigel?’
‘He’s an old rogue as usual.’
‘Is he getting used to things now?’
‘With his sight you mean?’ A pained expression passed over Tom’s face and he rubbed his eyes. ‘He seems cheerful enough, but he wouldn’t say anything in front of anyone else. I’m going next week to help decorate the place for Christmas. I was thinking of making some Christmassy-smelling decorations or something. You know, cloves, cinnamon, dried oranges. I mean, Grandad’s not the only one there with vision problems – if anyone can’t see Christmas deccies, it’d be nice if they can smell something.’
That was just like Tom. He was so considerate and caring and thought a little out of the box. Not many people would think about something like that.
‘I’ll come with you next Sunday if you like. It’ll be nice to see Nigel again.’
‘He’d love to see you too, and if you don’t mind, I’ll pop in and see him on Christmas Day before I come to you? Unless you want to come too?’
‘Of course I want to come. I wrapped his present today.’ Tom and Nell always spent Christmas Day together after a quick trip to the care home in the morning. Cat and Kieran would be on their honeymoon, Tom’s parents had emigrated to Australia and Nell’s stayed at the hotel in Dorset. Over the past few years, she and Tom had made their own celebrations, just the two of them, and sometimes guests if the hotel had bookings. As it was looking at being just the two of them this year, it was shaping up to be laid-back, easy and fun.
Their starters arrived, delivered by the surprisingly confident Tallulah, and Tom and Nell stared at them in surprise. His baked Mongolian cheese was a surprisingly decent size but covered in so much rosemary it looked like a forest had fallen onto his plate. Nell’s soup was just that: bog-standard carrot soup with some flecks of green floating in it, served in a gold teacup on a shiny matching saucer.
‘Is that it?’ whispered Tom, pointing his bread knife at the cup and saucer.
Nell looked up, trying desperately not to laugh out loud. ‘It’s tiny, isn’t it?’
‘I could neck that in about three seconds.’ She picked up her teaspoon and stirred her soup trying not to spill any as she lifted it to her lips. Just as she opened her mouth Tom’s hand shot out. ‘Don’t.’
‘What?’ Nell followed Tom’s horrified gaze to the teaspoon. Sitting in the head of the spoon was a curled black blob. Peering a little closer, her face fell into a grimace. ‘Urgh, it’s a spider! That’s so gross.’ She leaned forward, whispering, ‘What shall I do? I can’t eat the soup now. That’s honestly made me feel sick.’
‘You should tell the waitress.’
‘What? I can’t. I hate complaining. Maybe I can just say I didn’t like it, not that that sounds any better.’ Nell stared at the crumpled dead spider in her spoon, feeling slightly sorry for the poor thing. There weren’t many nice ways for a spider to go, but she couldn’t imagine being drowned in soup was one of them.
‘You have to, Nell. What if someone else finds one in their soup? You’d feel terrible. It might be a one-off, but it might also mean their kitchens aren’t quite as clean as they think they are. Someone could get proper food poisoning or something.’
‘Oh no.’ Nell laid the spoon, complete with arthropod accompaniment, on the gold saucer, which only seemed to spotlight it more. ‘This sucks. I really hate complaining.’
‘Do you want me to do it?’
‘No, it’s okay. Right, here goes.’ Catching Tallulah’s eye, she waited until the waitress came over. ‘Umm, I’m really sorry,’ Nell began, keeping her voice hushed. ‘But I’m afraid I found a spider in my soup.’
The waitress’s face registered shock and then disgust. ‘I am so sorry, madam. I think I’d better get the deputy manager for you.’ She darted away and a few moments later Bryan with a Y, the man in the shiny suit and cold ankles, arrived at the table. Tallulah had clearly briefed him because his brow was crinkled and he came over clasping his hands. Nell repeated what she’d said to Tallulah and Bryan peered at the spoon, picking it up and examining it.
‘Madam, I sincerely apologise, I can’t imagine how this has happened. I assure you that we have the highest levels of cleanliness in the restaurant. I can only imagine it fell from the ceiling when it was being carried out.’
It was possible, Nell supposed, but not likely. The poor thing definitely seemed sufficiently cooked to have been in there for a while. Even though Nell had tried to keep her voice low the other tables began to glance over and whisper amongst themselves. Bryan’s eyes darted towards them then back again as they examined their own plates for wildlife. Still, Nell tried to be conciliatory. ‘No problem. I run Holly Lodge. We don’t do dinner, but we do breakfast and my cook’s constantly cleaning everything to make sure there’s no chance of something getting in.’ She’d meant it in a nice, understanding way but Bryan sneered at the mention of Holly Lodge and embarrassment
