A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

Diegetic Audio Dissolve

Clem took a tray with tea and porridge to Nana's bedroom, while Dair was plating the rest of their breakfast.

'Plating' was not an adequate description of what Billie was observing here, by the way. Before going upstairs, Clem swiped on her phone; and some jolly tune poured out of the speakers on the counter.

"Encanto!" the girls cheered.

The tune was Latin American, and probably from a cartoon, considering the simplistic lyrics containing an overly descriptive expository piece about someone named Bruno. Billie could see how the song could be quite an earworm. The girls were singing - or mouthing - along, and doing some sort of coordinated shoulder shimmies.

And then Billie glanced up and saw the man dance, a flipper in his right hand, one pan after the other in his left. The food - mini pancakes, eggs, bangers, golden mouth-watering circles of boxty, perfectly grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, and peppers - rained onto the five plates in front of him. Billie froze, with a teabag dangling in her hand over a mug on the island. A bouncier tune kicked in; the lyrics were in a Hispanic language, something about Colombia; and Billie watched Dair, as her Aunt Hazel tended to put it, throw shapes, while still successfully attending to their brekkie.

"Go, Uncle Fredo!" one of the gingers cried out.

One of the older twins jumped off the stool. Billie still had trouble telling them apart, but that was probably Imogen. She was the livelier one. Her twin sister, Freddy, spoke little. The gingers - Lyn and Olly - were two years younger, around four; and did everything in unison. Watching them felt like seeing double. They also tended to throw each other silent looks, as if leading some sort of a private telepathic conversation; while the older duo didn't seem to have much in common except of their looks. 

Dair pushed the skillet back onto the stove; the turner followed; and the girl and the man started 'cutting a rug,' in the same Aunt's vernacular. One would think someone so hench would be stiff and awkward - and yet here was Dair, graceful and jaunty like Waldeck's Ku-Ma!

"Dad does it a lot," the other dark-haired twin said in a resigned tone. "You get used to it."

Billie wasn't sure it was possible to get used to the view of someone that Brobdingnagian slightly swaying his hips, his torso rocking in fluid smooth movements, his steps light.

"Oh I forgot how good you are!" Clem's voice came from the stairs. "Imogen, make sure that Uncle Federico eats before everything goes cold. Nana says thank you for the breakfast, by the way. She's going to stay upstairs. Apparently, she's binging Will's new book."

"No wonder! It's ace!" Billie blurted out.

Four pairs of eyes fixed on her. Billie flushed.

"Well, I mean, he is amazing, isn't he?" she muttered. "I'm not much for military fiction, but you simply can't put it down! He's brilliant! It's like you dive in and you have to hold your breath until he lets you go. He's so intense, and you just have to give up control and let him carry you through it!"

The music changed, but no one was moving.

And then Clem snickered. "You do mean his writing, not Will himself, right?"

"Of course!" Billie cried out, taken aback. "I have no opinion on Mr. Holyoake as a person. I mean, he's clearly a wonderful human being, but– but–"

Billie dropped her eyes to her plate.

"It's OK if you have a bit of a crush on him," Clem sing-songed. "We all do."

"I just love his writing!" Billie protested, and Clem emitted a rather unconvinced 'uh-huh.'

"C-caffè?" Dair asked near Billie's ear, and she jumped up.