Despite the girl lacking the power of speech he had perked up. He didn’t regret for a moment sacrificing his nap for a trip to Vejdhem. He accelerated, making the car tilt on corners, and saw with amusement how she clasped the handle on the inside of the door with both hands.
17
Sandra
HE WAS CHIVALROUS and didn’t let her carry a single thing herself. Sandra didn’t object, even if she would have preferred not to have to offer him a cup of coffee, given how exhausted she was after the breakneck ride in the car. But it had gone fine in the end, and she really was grateful that he had—for no particular reason—been her knight in shining armour.
“Thank you so much for your help,” she said when they reached the hall. “You’ve been far too generous—you could have dropped me off on the main road.”
“With all this?” he laughed, glancing at all the bags and boxes.
She smiled back and held her hands out apologetically.
“At least let me cover your costs.”
She said this as she got her wallet out of her handbag, even though she was convinced he would refuse. Adults rarely accepted payment for favours.
“Out of the question,” he said, as she expected.
“Then let me at least make you a cup of coffee. Do you have time?”
“I’m sure I have time for a cup of coffee.”
Sandra hung her coat on a hanger in the wardrobe and put his on a hook on the wall. She took off her shoes on the hall floor, but didn’t want to ask him to do the same. It would somehow be too pedantic, whilst also acting as an invitation to the man to make himself more at home.
She switched on the coffee maker and got two mugs out of the cupboard. That was all she had time to do before he changed his mind.
“I don’t suppose I could have a whisky instead?” he asked nonchalantly.
She looked at him for a moment.
“Aren’t you driving?” she said hesitantly.
“A wee dram won’t do any harm,” he said with broad smile.
As if she ought to have known that big, strong men could handle a whisky before getting behind the wheel. He made her feel unsure—was she even allowed to offer him alcohol before he got into the car? But she didn’t want to make a fuss, and he probably knew his limits. So she got what she had out of the larder—an almost-full bottle that had been in there for at least a year.
He grabbed hold of it and turned it in his hand. He studied the label and nodded in approval.
“That’s more like it,” he said, pouring himself a shot in one of the mugs.
Sandra turned her back to him and continued to make the coffee. She heard him drinking, and the cork being removed and replaced once again. She remembered how it had occurred to her in the car that he might be inebriated, that his breath smelled of booze, and that his careless driving might be because he was under the influence of alcohol.