BY THE TIME the Christmas pudding had been served, and they were on to coffee and liqueurs, and the band was setting up for a ceilidh, Flora couldn’t have been happier. The Rock was alive, brimming with cheery, well-fed people, and you could hear it in the buzz of noise and laughter; the children running around the huge tree, brandishing their best new toys; the women giggling in the lovely bathrooms, reapplying lipstick and glancing at their hair. For the first time ever the place felt fully lived in, properly doing what it was supposed to do. She wished so very much Colton were here to see it. She looked over at Fintan and realized that of course he felt exactly the same. She got up and squeezed his shoulders.

“He’d love it.”

“He’d wish I’d done it.”

“He wouldn’t give a rat’s ass,” she said, using one of Colton’s favorite expressions, which made him smile.

“I think he liked quite a lot of MacKenzies.”

She passed on, thanking the waitstaff and heading into the kitchen.

“I think people want to see you,” she said to Gaspard, who had disappeared outside for a cigarette.

“Vraiment?” said Gaspard, but he wasn’t unused to this. He’d always known he could cook. He just hadn’t thought there’d be a kitchen that could hold him.

GASPARD DRAGGED THEM all out in front of the room, which erupted into a loud round of applause (drink had been taken at this point).

Konstantin, to his surprise, found himself a little overcome. Service had been fast and intense, and he’d amazed himself by how hard he could work, how much he could do when he tried, when he really tried. He found himself turning a little pink as he faced the clapping, even though it was silly, it was only lunch.

Then one table stood up, and he froze.

Chapter 71

I t couldn’t be. He dropped Isla’s hand immediately even as she turned to look at him, puzzled. Then he stepped forward.

The short man at the table stepped forward also, beaming.

“Pappa?” said Konstantin in a very small voice.

He looked at the rest of the table. It wasn’t just his father: his aunts, his friends, omg, even Anders, his dreaded nemesis. He felt like he was sleepwalking. Isla’s face suddenly dropped as she realized who was there.

“We thought we’d surprise you,” said his father in Norwegian. “But you have surprised us. And I am so proud of you.”

“But . . . in the papers . . . I looked like such an idiot.”

“That is when we decided to come!” said his father. “When we saw you with the dog! We did not think idiot . We thought . . . Look at my boy. He is working ! And we are so proud of you. Your chef said you were doing so well.”

“I deed not, you are eediot!” came a voice from far off, but Gaspard couldn’t possibly understand Norwegian, so they both ignored it.