Inheritance

Chapter Fifty-six. Drambuie and Shortbread

Chapter Fifty-six 

Drambuie and Shortbread 

John never expected to see Judith again, but one week later, she showed up on his doorstep, a bottle of wine in her hand, and an apologetic look on her face. 

"Can you ever forgive me, John?" she pleaded. 

"For what?" John asked, wickedly attempting to increase her embarrassment. 

"For my behaviour the other night. I'm not normally forward like that. It's just when I drink I tend to get carried away." 

"I don't think you should broadcast that information," chuckled John. 

"Was I very rude?" 

"Not really. You said nothing that hadn't been said before, except for that Gentile virgin bit." 

"Am I forgiven then?" 

"I suppose so." He said with a smile. 

Judith responded with a peck on his cheek and a "shall we drink to that" as she waved the bottle in the air. 

"No way."  

"Well how about a Drive-In? No strings." 

Could she be trusted? 

Judith proved as good as her word. For the next few weeks, John took her to social functions organized by the graduate students. Invariably these were parties held in student lodgings and involved a potluck supper and a simple form of entertainment, usually a game of some kind. There were always large quantities of liquor, usually punches containing alcohol purloined from lab supplies. Despite the readily available supply of booze, Judith drank in moderation and remained the soul of sobriety. Not once did she lose her inhibitions. John was relieved. 

The students took turns acting as host and just before the Christmas break, John learned he was to host the New Years Eve party. Immediate panic! He had never entertained and his place was a pigsty. Frantically he called Judith. She calmed him down pointing out that they still had two weeks to prepare. 

On the Saturday morning preceding Christmas, Judith, armed with a load of cleaning equipment, arrived at his door. Ignoring all his protests, she ushered John out of the apartment convincing him that his time would be better spent at the lab. When he returned in the early evening, Judith had gone. The apartment was spotless. She had even cleaned the roach infested cupboards and the oven was no longer a grease fire waiting to happen. But she had done more than clean. In the alcove next to the kitchen she had decorated a small Christmas tree and on the dining table placed three gift wrapped boxes and a note. 

Dear John, 

I know that Christmas is a special time for you and definitely not a time for you to be alone. I hope you don't mind but I have taken the liberty of booking Christmas lunch for us at Vargo's. I thought that afterwards we might come back to your apartment and plan your party. 

Judith 

P.S. Don't open the gifts until after the lunch. 

John was taken aback by this unexpected display of kindness. Especially by the fact that she appreciated how much he was going to miss home at Christmas. Despite the calamitous first date, and the lack of sexual attraction, he was warming to her. She had proved to be a good friend during his first few months in a strange place, and he looked forward to spending Christmas Day with her. 

The lunch at Vargo's, billed as a Dickensian feast, did not disappoint. John gorged himself on the festive fare, particularly relishing the succulent turkey and flaming brandied plum pudding. Buoyed by the mulled wine served with the meal, John assailed Judith's ears with discordant versions of various carols as they drove back to the apartment for the gift exchange.