by Kirsty Ferry
God, she wished she had her smartphone with her. That was a photo opportunity if ever she saw one.
‘That’s it,’ whispered Ned. ‘That’s the moment we wanted. I think they both know for sure now – it’s something to build on. Hurrah at last.’
Then, shattering the moment: ‘All right. Let’s start!’ That was Lydia. She stood up and hurried over to the Abbey pond, testing the ice gently with the toe of her boot, her arms out to the side as if she was doing a particularly elegant ballet pose. ‘It seems just right. Me first!’ She glided onto the ice and turned a perfect pirouette. ‘Oh this is wonderful! What a marvellous idea!’ She skated off and began to do circuits of the pond, interspersed with figure of eights.
Ailsa could only stand and stare in awe. ‘She’s amazing!’ she whispered to Ned.
‘Adam did warn you,’ he said. ‘Come on – we have to embarrass ourselves at some point. Might as well make it sooner rather than later.’
He stepped onto the ice and wobbled, his hand clutching hers more tightly as he tried to get his balance. Ailsa couldn’t help it; she started laughing and stepped onto the ice herself. She wobbled even more than Ned did and the laughter turned into a shriek of horror as she found herself sitting down on the pond, still hanging onto Ned as she brought him down too.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry!’ she cried and tried to stand up.
‘My fault. It was my fault!’ he said, laughing. They leaned on each other and managed to scramble to their feet, only to fall over again in a tumble of petticoats and overcoat.
‘This is awful!’ she shouted. ‘I told you! I told you!’
‘I told you as well!’
‘We’re dreadful! Oh God! Oh no. Oh Ned!’
‘Good Lord. Come on – up you get – whoaaaah! Down you go.’
It seemed to be the pattern of the direness that was unfolding, ice-skating on the Abbey pond. It took a good while for Ailsa and Ned to get their balance, and culminated in them shuffling slowly along the ice, very close to the edge, their arms wrapped around each other and Ailsa wanting, terribly, to burst into silly giggles.
Lydia weaved her way between the four of them – Ella and Adam, and Ailsa and Ned – mocking them all delightedly for their failure at skating. ‘Honestly, you get just as much practice as I do – why are you all so slow?’ she crowed as she unbalanced Ned just by skating up to him then shooting away at a sharp angle. ‘Look at those two – it’s simply hysterical.’ She pointed to their companions and grinned.
Ella was gliding stiffly, her arms stuck out to the sides and her face a study of deep concentration. Adam was doing slightly better, his arms behind his back, going slowly but at least remaining upright for longer than the rest of them.
‘Oh!’ Suddenly, there was a ladylike yelp from the opposite side of the pond and Ella went sprawling backwards, sitting down with a thump on the ice.
‘Ella!’ Adam sped up and wobbled as fast as he could across the ice. He bent down and put his fingers gently under her chin, tilting her face up towards him. ‘Are you all right? You’re not hurt?’
‘No – no, I’m not hurt.’ Ella lifted her hands from the ice and rubbed them together, dusting ice from her gloves. ‘I’m just embarrassed.’
‘There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Look at Ned and Ailsa. I think they’ve spent most of the time on the ground as well.’
‘Oh, you’re all so hopeless!’ Lydia was almost crying with laughter and pointing to them on the ground. ‘You’re hereafter known as the Lord and Lady of Misrule!’ she declared.
She spun around and around, showing off more of her pirouetting skills, dotting in between them and being thoroughly obnoxious, until Adam had enough and shouted, ‘Whatever do you mean by that?’
‘The Lord of Misrule presides over the Feast of Fools and is in charge of the Christmas revelries!’ cried Lydia. ‘His Lady obviously does the same. You’re certainly making me laugh, and you all look incredibly foolish. You’re – oh!’ Lydia tumbled to the ground and sat there looking indignant.
‘I’m dreadfully sorry,’ said Ella, innocently. ‘I don’t know what happened there. I was trying to stand up and I must have just flung my leg out at a very peculiar angle.’
‘You tripped me up!’ said Lydia. ‘Now why would you do that?’
‘Because I’m the Lady of Misrule and I’m in charge of revelries,’ said Ella. ‘And you had to look foolish somehow.’
‘You horror!’ shrieked Lydia.
She began to scramble to her feet, but Ella tugged sharply at her skirt and pulled her down again. ‘Oh my. Can’t you stay upright? How awful.’
‘Ella!’ Lydia skidded across the ice on her bottom to get out of her way, but Ella got onto all fours and began to scrabble after her. The pair of them ended up rolling onto the snowdrift at the edge of the pond, almost crying with laughter. Adam half-marched, half-skated to the tumble of fur-trimmed frocks, blonde hair and skates that the girls had turned into. He ploughed into the middle of them and started trying to separate them, pulling his sister off Ella, then trying to keep Ella from darting around the side to tweak Lydia’s hat or tug at her skirts.
Ailsa stared, fascinated. ‘Were they always like this?’ she whispered to Ned.
‘For as long as I’ve known them,’ he said wryly. ‘Why?’
‘You see the photographs and the paintings and things and think the Victorians were dreadfully stuffy and never smiled. Yet these three—’ She gestured to them. Adam yelled as he was pulled onto the ground and Lydia made off with his scarf, waving it like a banner as she danced off on the skates, as elegant as she had been on the ice.
‘People don’t really change,’ Ned said, smiling down at her. ‘That’s the beauty of my job. I see it all. Remember, you told me yourself – what we see in the pictures is just a moment frozen in time. They were real people, living and breathing and laughing and loving as we do. They’re human. Or terrible specimens of humans, as these girls are!’ He laughed, watching them. ‘Poor Adam. Come on – time to break it up!’
By the time Ned and Ailsa had skated inexpertly towards the edge of the pond and stumbled onto the snow, Lydia had bounded into the midst again and was trying to relieve Adam of his hat. It was starting to get quite cold now Ailsa had stopped moving and the winter sun was dropping.
‘Hoi! We’ve had enough!’ shouted Ned towards the tangle of limbs and people. ‘My coat is soaked and my wife is frozen half to death.’ He was ignored as the spectacle continued. ‘Hey! Ahoy there!’ he tried again.
‘It’s not working,’ said Ailsa. ‘I think we might need to try a different tactic.’
‘Oh? And what do you suggest, Mrs Cavendish?’
‘It sounds so odd when you call me that!’
‘But I have to call you that – and to be honest, I want to call you that.’ Ned turned to her and looked down, his eyes full of humour. ‘It’s got a certain ring to it, don’t you think?’
‘Now stop teasing me – we’ve only been married a couple of hours! It’s difficult for me to get used to it.’ Ailsa laughed and bent down. She scooped up a handful of snow and began to form it into the semblance of a ball. ‘Here. I’m a rotten shot.’
She handed the snowball over to Ned who took it and raised his eyebrows. ‘An excellent idea, Mrs Cavendish,’ he said. He weighed it in his hands and took aim. He threw it, perfectly straight, as if he had bowled in County Cricket matches all his born days.
The snowball landed right in the middle of the tussle and Lydia shrieked as it exploded all over her. ‘Who did that? Who did that?’
Lydia, Ella and Adam broke apart, Adam keeping his hand on Ella’s arm just a little longer than necessary as he steadied her back on her feet.
‘It was Ailsa. Now – are we ready to get warm?’ shouted Ned, waving at them. ‘Two minutes by the fire as we get these dratted skates off, and dry out a little, please!’
‘You liar! I didn’t throw that at all!’ cried Ailsa, spinning around to face him. She turned back to
their friends. ‘It was Ned, I promise!’
‘She made it!’ retorted Ned.
‘He threw it!’
‘She—ouch!’ Ned uttered as a clumsily made snowball exploded on his chest and a flurry of soft snow flew up into his face.
‘Oh dear.’ That was Ella, clapping her hands across her mouth and staring at them. ‘I’m so very sorry. I didn’t actually mean to hit you.’ She looked up at Adam as if worried that he would find that behaviour a step too far. Instead, he laughed and patted her on the shoulder.
He looked down at her, his eyes warm and admiring in his handsome face. ‘Very impressive, Ella. All those summers of me teaching you cricket on the lawn have paid off.’
‘But that’s not fair!’ Lydia cried. ‘I was never any good at bowling. You all have an unfair advantage. Ned always made me field – I always had to stand in the corner.’
‘Best place for you,’ commented Adam.
‘Now, now, don’t give all my secret strategies away,’ said Ned. He linked arms with Ailsa and they hobbled over to the group. Ailsa was trying to process all the information and was, in actual fact, just getting herself into a knot.
Ned obviously knew this family a lot better than she realised. Or it was all, perhaps, part of this weird dream.
‘Cricket?’ she asked quietly.
‘Played a lot when I was a boy,’ he replied. Then he raised his voice. ‘No, Lydia – no – don’t do it. Yes. You missed. And that’s why you were always fielding. Go into the corner – now, please!’ A second soft snowball broke up in the air and scattered bits of snow about six feet away from Ned’s feet.
‘Oh it’s a silly game,’ grumbled Lydia, folding her arms.
‘It is,’ agreed Ned. ‘So let’s get these skates off and head back to the Park. I’ve told Ailsa about the mince pies and mulled wine that should be waiting for us.’
‘Oh! Mince pies! Mulled wine!’ Lydia cheered up immediately and deftly wrapped Adam’s scarf around her neck. ‘Yes! Let’s go back. Ella – come on, darling.’ She held her hand out to her friend, whose nose was pink and her hat askew.
‘Thank you.’ Ella took Lydia’s hand and then, arm-in-arm, they stamped over on their skates to the fire which was burnt down considerably by now. Still, it had enough heat left in it for them all to huddle around and help each other off with the skates, fumbling and complaining about their stiff fingers and their clothing, heavy with melted snow.
Ailsa thought she had never had such a perfect outing.
Ned and Adam, finally satisfied that the horse was bridled correctly, went over to the fire and threw snow over it to dampen it down.
‘That was quite a success for your sister,’ said Ned as they stood before the guttering flames and watched them hiss and spit as they died, until there was nothing but a thin plume of smoke coming from the charred wood.
‘I’m awfully sorry she dragged you both into it,’ said Adam. He held his hands out over the remains of the fire, hoping, perhaps to get the last little bit of heat out of it. ‘I’d quite forgotten how bad you were at ice-skating.’
‘I never improve,’ said Ned wryly. ‘But it’s been exactly the sort of thing that Ailsa wanted to do, so I’m very grateful to Lydia.’
‘I suspect your wife thought she’d come here and have a nice, restrained Christmas Eve. Instead, she falls down several times, gets soaked through and experiences a couple of hoydens cat-fighting. I hope she doesn’t judge us too harshly!’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t judge you at all,’ replied Ned. He rubbed his own hands together. ‘I often wish that snow was warmer.’
‘I know exactly what you mean. Still, I’m determined to enjoy myself this Christmas. I have to go away to warmer climes just afterwards. The agents in France aren’t too happy with some of the terms the merchants have offered us. It needs to be resolved.’ Adam pulled a face and stared into the dark patch on the ground. The snow had melted all around and grass was poking through for the first time in days. ‘I don’t want to go, particularly, but there you are. I have a business to run, after all.’
‘You’ll miss Ella,’ said Ned.
Adam looked at him quickly. ‘I’ll miss Lydia as well, of course.’
‘Of course,’ replied Ned, ‘but we can all see where your heart really lies.’
Adam stared at him, his face reddening. ‘Just because you’re now a married man, there’s no need to accuse us all of giving our love so lightly!’
‘I never gave it to her lightly,’ said Ned with a laugh. ‘She was like a comet, blazing towards me. I couldn’t have avoided her, even if I’d tried.’
‘Pretty words, my friend. I see marriage has made you soft,’ said Adam with a laugh. ‘I wish you luck in it, though, I do, most sincerely. Myself, I doubt she’d even consider it. We grew up together, for God’s sake!’
‘You might be surprised,’ said Ned, clapping his friend on the back. ‘I suggest you take the opportunity of your forthcoming business trips to reflect and consider. For example, can you see either of you settling with anyone else?’
Adam looked back at the fire and shrugged. ‘For my part, no. But for hers – who knows?’
‘Reflect and consider, my friend. Reflect and consider. Now – we had best get back before the hoydens escape and drag us back on to the ice.’
The men turned their backs on the fire and began to walk back to the sleigh.
‘I do hope they don’t want to go back onto the ice,’ said Adam. ‘I can’t ever remember being so cold before!’
‘It’s not the most pleasant feeling,’ Ned agreed. He thrust his hands in his pockets and shook his damp hair out of his eyes. ‘At least, though, I still have my scarf.’
‘Lucky you,’ said Adam. He looked towards the sleigh and nodded at Lydia. ‘Tell you what, old chap, I’ll sell you my sister. How about that? Perhaps it’ll raise a little capital for the French investors.’
Ned laughed. ‘No thank you. I could never keep up with her schemes and whims.’
Adam sighed. ‘That would make two of us then. Come on, let’s hurry back before it really does get too dark and too cold for sensible mortals to be outside.’
‘Sensible mortals.’ Ned smiled. ‘Quite so.’ And he pushed his hands further into his pockets and hurried towards the sleigh, towards Ailsa.
Ailsa had helped to toss the skates into the box on the back of the sleigh, and stood waiting whilst Lydia and Ella dragged even more blankets out of it.
The three of them tucked more blankets around each other as they sat and waited for Adam and Ned. Ella was sitting next to Ailsa, facing forwards, and Ailsa could see the consternation in her beautiful blue eyes as she concentrated on Ned and Adam.
‘The poor boys,’ said Ella, ‘I feel dreadful that we have the blankets and they don’t.’ She shrank down amidst the tartan, apparently following the conversation as the men headed across to them in a way that only she could do; then she watched them as they harnessed the horse, blowing on their fingers and fastening buckles that refused to comply.
‘Oh it’s no good,’ she said softly. She unwrapped herself and sat upright. ‘Adam. Here. Take this blanket. Tuck it over your legs as you drive. You must be frozen.’
‘But I’m perfectly warm, Ella,’ he said, looking surprised.
‘No, you’re not,’ she replied. ‘You told Ned you can’t ever remember being so cold before. Here. Take it.’
Adam stared at her, then shook his head in despair. ‘I would protest and deny it, but I never could get anything past you, could I?’
‘Never,’ she agreed, frowning at him, her mouth set in a little stubborn line.
Adam protested anyway. ‘But you’re cold and damp yourself, Ella.’ He raked his hand through his hair and looked at her in despair.
‘Not as cold as you.’
‘Ella …’
Ailsa’s heart jumped as she saw an opportunity she could take. She put her hand on Ella’s arm. Ella turned to her, still looking, it had to be
said, a little stubborn.
‘Why don’t you compromise?’ Ailsa suggested. ‘You travel upfront with Adam. You can watch where you’re going and he can share the blanket.’
‘Pardon?’ Ella stared at her. ‘What? I travel up there?’ She pointed to the driver’s seat. ‘With the blanket?’
‘And with Adam,’ said Lydia, slyly. She’d wrapped Adam’s scarf around her head so she resembled a Russian peasant woman. It didn’t look as if her brother was going to get his scarf back this side of Christmas.
A look of confusion passed across Ella’s face, as if she wanted to ride upfront, but didn’t want to admit it.
‘That’s a good idea,’ said Ned. He smiled at Ailsa and his dark eyes softened. ‘That’s something we can do here today.’
Ailsa sat back, and snuggled inside her blanket, feeling ridiculously warm inside – even if her nose was dropping off and she couldn’t feel her face anymore. At last, she’d meddled in their lives in a way he’d supported.
‘Come on, Ella. Out you get.’ Ned held out his hand before the girl could complain, and helped her elegantly out of the sleigh.
‘But it’s high,’ she said, looking up at where she was going to sit, as if that was the final thing she could say to change anyone’s mind.
‘It’s not that high,’ said Adam. ‘Hold onto this – that’s it.’ He made sure she took hold of one of the metal curls that formed the frame of the sleigh and put his hands gently around her waist to lift her up.
Once she was up there, Ella turned to face Lydia and Ailsa, her hands clutching the back of the seat. ‘But—’
‘Here’s a blanket,’ said Lydia, passing one up to her and pushing it into her friend’s hands. ‘Take it. Tuck yourselves up. There now. How marvellous.’
Lydia turned back to face Ailsa and winked broadly, implying full well that Ella would have to complain to the back of her head and wouldn’t be able argue very effectively.
Ned climbed in to the sleigh – beside Ailsa, this time – and she moved the blanket to accommodate them both beneath it. They were supposed to be newlyweds after all. There wasn’t anything wrong with sharing a tartan blanket, was there? And besides, Ned felt warm and safe and solid beside her.
