Breakdown by Katherine Amt Hanna Read Free Book Online Page B

they might get off you. Jobs aren’t hard to come by, but the work is long and hard, and the pay is lousy.”
    “What did you do? Did you get a job?” Fiona asked.
    “Not exactly,” Chris said, turning his head toward her without looking at her. Jon could see he’d gone stiff again. The mask was dropping down over his face. He clutched the wineglass with both hands. “I fell in with a group—just, um, lucky. They had a pretty good setup. The work wasn’t bad. They had electricity and running water, plenty of food. But I never really planned to stay in London, of course, so I didn’t stay long. I got another ship to Portsmouth—just a quick hop—and worked there for a couple of months. Met a nice chap, and when I got ill—not the plague—he sent me off to his hometown, where some friends of his took me in. Little place called Breton. I’d only planned to stay the winter, but it was just George, his wife, mum, and sister, so I stayed on to help. They’re good people. It was easy to stay. They needed me, y’know? And I didn’t know if anyone was here.” He shrugged, sipped at the wine, relaxing slightly now that he was nearing the end of his story. “But, of course, I wanted to know for sure. So here I am.” He turned to look at Jon, who gave him the barest of nods and the hint of a smile to let Chris know that it was okay. “Please tell me you have cows,” Chris said suddenly, glancing around, “because I’ve got damn good at milking.”
    Little chuckles all around broke the silence, and Jon grinned at Chris, glad that he was starting to relax, finally.
    “No cows here, but the next farm over has plenty, and we help out with them,” Simon explained. “As much milking as you’d care to take on.”
    “Just steer clear of Queen Anne,” Jon put in quickly, rubbing his shin.
    “Ah, that beast has a bit of the devil in her,” Simon agreed.
    “I’ll leave her to you, then,” Chris said to Jon, eliciting more chuckles. He drained the last of his wine and set the glass carefully on the table next to the settee. Then he picked up the package he had brought down. “Um, I have something,” he said, and looked across the room at Brian, who was still hiding behind the piano. Brian was watching him. They kept eye contact for a few tense moments.
    Brian looked away.
    Jon scowled. Why would Brian act like that? Why not accept Chris’s gift? Fiona made a tsk sound.
    Chris did not react. His eyes flicked toward Jon, and he shook his head once with no change of expression. He merely turned toward Fiona and handed her the gift.
    “It’s for everyone,” he said. “You open it.”
    She took it with a smile, didn’t protest with a pointless “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” as so many might have. She fingered it lightly, then pulled on the string. The paper wasn’t taped, and she undid the folds to reveal a plastic-wrapped tin of loose tea. She stared at it with her mouth open, as if she didn’t quite recognize it. There were several gasps from around the room.
    “It’s tea,” Fiona said, holding it up, as she might have said, “It’s gold,” or “It’s diamonds.”
    “It’s old, it’s from before,” Chris explained, “but it’s vacuum sealed, and the plastic wrap doesn’t have any holes, so it might still be okay.” In the old days, it had been a fairly expensive blend. Now it was nearly priceless.
    “Where did you get it?” Jon asked.
    “I found it,” Chris replied, as if to reassure everyone that he had not spent a huge sum on it.
    “You don’t just find stuff like that anymore,” Brian said from the corner. “It’s hellish expensive. Did you steal it?”
    “Brian!” Fiona exclaimed.
    Jon jumped to his feet, his hands clenched automatically into fists at his side. “That’s a shit thing to say.”
    Chris stood, too. He put a hand out and touched Jon’s arm, caught his eye, and shook his head gently at him. He looked at Brian in the corner. Jon caught a flash of pain in his