what else.
I rested one arm on a table by my side. 'No; not put off.'
'Can we tempt you to stay over Christmas... maybe even Hogmanay?' Her voice was a little lower, a little more measured than it had been.
I looked up at her. 'Oh... yes. Of course; Christmas... New Year...'I nodded.'Yes.That would be...if you don't...'
'We'd love to have you. How long can you stay?' I shook my head. 'Well... I don't know. I'll... Look, just ... I mean... as soon as... I mean I might...' I couldn't even think what it was I wanted to say, let alone start trying to say it. 'Oh,' I said, leaning back on the table, temporarily exhausted by the effort of it all. 'Kick me out when you want.'
'Daniel,' she said, smiling very seriously and shaking her head, 'I wouldn't kick you out of anything.' Then she went back to help with the decorations.
I leant my elbow on the table again, and felt it tip. I looked down at one of the legs. I patted my pockets, looking for a wedge.
I found a piece of plastic, cracked it in half and slid it underneath the leg, steadying it.
It was only after I'd sat up again and done a double-take and looked down that I realised what I'd used was my platinum Amex card... I swear .
I look up again, laughing quietly to myself. The wean on the trike races past.
They've tied great long lengths of different coloured paper streamers to the back of the wee boy's bicycle. He's still speeding round and round the hall, past people and between sets of chairs, head down and pedalling as hard as he can, but now he's got a long, swirling train of colour streaming after him.
On the tape machine somebody is playing the Northumbrian Pipes, and in the midst of that simple, tootling, jigging music, I'm sitting back, rubbing my bristly chin and feeling happy again, and wondering if it'll last, and watching the bairn on the trike, the streamers flowing behind him like a rainbow wake, whizzing round and round and round.
