‘Yes, and you must see it,’ Clara agreed. ‘It’s what first sparked my interest in ancient written languages. There are two different versions of the runic alphabet on it, one of them the earliest, with only sixteen letters.’
‘We’ll have all the time in the world to get to know Meg and show her the important landmarks and history of the valley,’ Henry said. ‘And what a big, jolly family party we’ll be for Christmas dinner this year!’
I thought that was slightly optimistic under the circumstances. Unfortunately it also reminded Mark of something.
Turning to his mother, he said, ‘I hope you’ve finally managed to get through to Piers and make sure he doesn’t turn up for Christmas, Mum?’
She looked nervous. ‘He isn’t answering his phone, but I left several messages explaining, in case he hadn’t got my letter, and I sent him another one. I do hope he’s not ill, or anything.’
‘He’s probably just sulking,’ said Mark.
Lex, who had lapsed into silence again, said he had to go back and do some work now, though I’m sure that was just an excuse. I knew the pottery was winding down ready for the Christmas break.
Clara pressed Sybil and Mark to stay for lunch, but Sybil said she thought she needed to ride out on the moors and think about things.
‘Of course, I’m very pleased to find out about you, Meg, it’s just that it’s all been very unsettling, that’s all.’
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I understand, because I felt exactly the same way when I found out, too.’
Tottie said she’d go with Sybil, since if the forecast was to be believed, they might not be able to ride for a couple of days. Sybil didn’t object, so I expect she’d talk it all over with her friend, like I had with Fliss, and feel much better.
Den cleared the things away, with Teddy’s help … or hindrance, since he insisted on pushing the trolley and it had the kind of wheels that tried to go in two different directions at once.
‘That didn’t go too badly,’ said Henry when the others had gone. ‘I knew it would be a bit of a stunner for poor old Sybil, but Mark took it quite well, really.’
‘Yes, once he was sure Meg and her mother wouldn’t try and claim anything from the estate!’ Clara gave her wide, toothy grin. ‘When we first told them who you were, Meg, Lex said he’d always felt there was something familiar about you and now he could see that it was a touch of the Doomes.’
That sounded about right.
After lunch I went up to my room to be alone for a while, and also to wrap the last of the little sketches I’d been surreptitiously drawing as gifts, then mounting in the card frames I’d bought in Great Mumming.
I looked out of my turret window from time to time and the sky appeared to be taking on an increasingly leaden, snowy aspect.
I rang Fliss up when I’d finished wrapping and gave her the latest instalment of what seemed to be turning into more of a saga than a romantic comedy.
‘It just needs Mum to turn up on the doorstep now and drift about being ditsy and off the wall,’ I finished, then sighed. ‘I wish she would reappear.’
‘I’m sure she’s all right. I mean, River thinks so, doesn’t he?’
Fliss liked River, whom she seemed to regard as somewhere between a fortune-teller and an oracle.
‘Yes,’ I agreed, with more positivity. ‘He is certain she’s alive, so she’s bound to resurface one of these days.’
‘I’ve found a lovely house online,’ Fliss said then. ‘It would be quite a long commute for Cal when he has to go into work, but then, he does travel so much, or work from home.’
‘What about your job?’ I asked.
‘I’d have to give it up and perhaps do supply teaching for a while, but the whole point of moving out is to find somewhere cheaper in the country, where we can bring up a family. I’m getting on, so there’s no time to lose.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ I said, with that familiar ache of loss. Motherhood was not going to be for me, though I’d probably have lots of fun being the mad auntie who turned up from time to time with presents.
‘River’s arriving tomorrow afternoon,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘He knows only that I’m related to the Doomes, so I can give him the whole story. I’ve decided that I’m going to tell him all about that night with Lex, too, and the fallout afterwards. Not to mention the way Lex and Al have behaved since I got here.’
‘That’s a great idea! He’ll put it all into perspective for you and tell you what to do – but I think he’ll say exactly the same as me: you must insist Lex hears what really happened!’
‘I have a feeling you’re right,’ I agreed. ‘I did try to tell Lex once, but he just walked off. I might have to tie him down and gag him before he’ll hear me out.’
‘I think you’ve been reading the wrong kind of novels, Meg.’
‘No, only murder mysteries, and luckily, so far at least, I haven’t felt homicidal.’
Tottie came back from her ride with Sybil, her face glowing.
‘Weather’s getting colder and it’s starting to freeze. There’s ice on the puddles.’
‘Is Sybil all right about Meg now?’ Clara asked. ‘I didn’t realize that she and Mark would be afraid that Meg and her mother would try and claim some money from the estate. Sybil has always been ready to fight tooth and claw to keep Underhill going for Mark.’
‘She was a bit quiet, but it’s a lot to take in at once,’ said Tottie. ‘When we got back, she tried to ring Piers Marten again, but there was no reply.’
‘Perhaps he got her first letter and has already gone to stay with relatives?’ I suggested.
‘Yes, he might have gone to stay with one of the children, I suppose,’ Clara said. ‘He treated his wife very badly and there was a messy divorce when they were still small, but they seem prepared to invite him out of a sense of duty.’
‘If he wasn’t such a horrible man I’d have invited him here for Christmas,’ Clara said. ‘But I really don’t want him under my roof and he’d be a total blight.’
I have to say, Piers Marten sounded fascinatingly ghastly … but not so fascinating that I ever wanted to meet him.
26
Left Luggage
I awoke next morning to a muffled white world and when I looked out of my window, I could still see large flakes of snow helicoptering slowly down from above, like the winged seedcases of sycamores.
It looked very pretty, though I thought the damp roads would have frozen yesterday evening, so that the covering of snow on top would make them treacherous.
River was supposed to drive over from Sticklepond today. I hoped he’d make it OK.
Tottie was in the kitchen, polishing off a poached egg, and she told me the local farmers had already been out to clear and grit the lane.
‘They’re on a contract from the council to do it, but actually, they need to give priority to keeping the road along the valley and up to the moors clear if they can, because of getting to the livestock.’
She pushed the coffee pot towards me and added, ‘Clara and Henry are working and Teddy’s going to help me this morning in the conservatory. I’d better go and winkle him out of the morning room.’
I didn’t ask where Den was: he seemed to come and go as he pleased, with no set hours other than those involved in supplying an endless stream of good food.
I wandered off into the studio and propped the iPad, showing the photo I’d taken, next to the portrait of Henry on the easel so that I could compare the two.
The head and hands … nothing to do there. Or to Lass, a furry rug across his feet …
But the way the faded old jewel colours of the Persian carpet on the dais merged into the darkness behind Henry … yes, that needed just a little more.
When I resurfaced, it was late morning and the day had brightened. I heard the swoosh of snow sliding off the roof, so a thaw must have set in.
I cleaned up my palette knife, then went through into the drawing room, where I found Clar
a and Teddy doing a jigsaw puzzle on a board laid over the coffee table.
Teddy looked up. ‘I don’t think I want to be a gardener when I grow up,’ he told me seriously. ‘Tottie made me wipe hundreds of leaves, but they were shiny already.’
‘I think you might become an artist,’ I said, going over to the bay window and peering out past the Christmas tree. I could see stretches of the road along the valley and they looked dark and wet, with ragged white edges.
The road to Thorstane at its highest point over the moors probably wouldn’t have thawed yet, but whatever state it was in, it evidently hadn’t hindered River’s arrival, for right at that moment his familiar ancient and battered Land Rover came chugging up the drive.
‘Here’s River now. He’s early!’ I exclaimed.
‘Oh, good,’ said Clara, who was slapping bits of jigsaw into place twice as fast as Teddy. I suppose it was finding all those joins in inscribed pottery and stone fragments.
A small figure, wrapped in a dark woollen cloak and wearing baggy black boots and a rainbow-striped knitted hat with a long point that ended in a tassel over one shoulder, climbed out.
I headed for the porch to find my wellies, but Den, with his sixth sense for visitors, got to the door first.
‘You Meg’s granddad?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I’m River.’ He gave Den one of his singularly sweet smiles.
‘Then go on in and I’ll bring yer stuff, won’t I?’
‘How very kind of you, and I am a little chilled. Everything on the back seat is to come in,’ he added, then caught sight of me.
‘Meg, my dear!’ He came up the steps and embraced me warmly and I hugged him back, realizing how pleased I was to have his familiar, reassuring presence there.
‘How much better you look now! The air of the Lancashire moors must suit you. And the rose-pink hair, too – a bright and hopeful colour.’
Well, hope is supposed to spring eternal, and until the pneumonia wore me down, I’d always been more of a glass-half-full person.
‘Oh, it’s good to see you!’ I said. ‘But come into the drawing room and meet everyone.’
Alerted by the noise of arrival, Henry had come out of his study. Lass pattered past him into the hall to inspect River’s legs while he removed his cloak and hat.
Without them, he was revealed to the assembled family in all his glory: a padded tabard of some greenish brocade, worn over a long black tunic. His white hair was loose down his back, but his beard neatly plaited. In one ear lobe shone a small silver star.
Teddy regarded him with awe.
‘Are you an elf?’ he asked, after a moment. ‘Or maybe … a wizard?’
‘Neither,’ River said. ‘Though it’s an easy mistake to make. I’m Meg’s grandfather-in-spirit.’
That made him sound as if I’d bottled him in vodka.
‘I was worried the road over the moors would be too bad for you to get through,’ I told him.
‘I set out early and I had the snow chains, though I didn’t need them. My friend in Sticklepond advised me to take the road from Thorstane, rather than use the pass and it was only tricky at the highest point.’
I remembered my manners and introduced him to everyone and he shook hands, just like an ordinary person, which he certainly isn’t, but then, you could say that about any of the inhabitants of the Red House, too.
‘I suppose you’re quite used to bad driving conditions, living up in the Black Mountains,’ said Henry.
‘It can be a little extreme in winter,’ agreed River, ‘though the Farm itself is not quite as high above sea level as you are.’
Clara insisted he take the chair nearest the fire, though the room was so warm anyway that he’d probably thawed out instantly.
Den bore a succession of items from the Land Rover past the open doorway. It was like an economy version of one of those game shows, where things pass you on a conveyer belt and you get to keep everything you can remember afterwards.
A battered suitcase, tied with string, was followed by a large holdall covered in Air India stickers and several odd-shaped parcels, some of which River retrieved and pressed randomly on Clara and Henry.
‘A little something from the Farm,’ he said.
They contained the cake, goat’s milk cheeses and various other edible goodies that Maj had packed up for him to bring. The Cellophane bag of crisp gingerbread stars were already pierced and threaded with thin ribbon loops and were a big hit with Teddy, who wanted to hang them on the tree in the hall right then and there.
‘After lunch,’ said Clara. ‘The hall is full of luggage right now.’
We heard the inner door to the porch close and Den appeared with a small, brown painted tin trunk.
‘That’s the lot, ain’t it?’ he said, stopping in the doorway.
‘Thank you so much,’ said River. ‘Do you want that trunk in here, Meg?’
‘It’s Mum’s, the one from the attic!’
‘Yes, I thought I might as well bring the whole thing. Luckily the birth certificate was on top, but you might discover other relevant documents further down.’
‘Good idea,’ approved Clara. ‘But there’s no rush to look through it, Meg. We already know Nessa’s name was on the birth certificate.’
So the trunk was taken up to my bedroom, along with a large hessian bag full of brown-paper-wrapped packages, which were apparently gifts for me from my Farm family.
River’s luggage was deposited in his room, apart from all the eatables, which Den carried off to the kitchen.
‘Tottie’s missing all this,’ Teddy said, as if the circus had come to town.
‘She’s probably still in the garden or the conservatory and has forgotten the time,’ Henry suggested.
‘I’ll go and get her,’ said Teddy, heading for the door.
‘Put your coat on if you go outside,’ Clara called as he vanished, with Lass plodding after him, as one duty bound to keep an eye on the smallest member of the family.
Now River had warmed up, he discarded the quilted tabard. The hem of the tunic underneath was decorated with hieroglyphs rather than runes. His trousers were still tucked into the long black boots, which had pointy toes, but now he removed these too, revealing hand-knitted Welsh wool socks.
‘Is there anything in my bag from the Farm that needs to go into the fridge?’ I asked him, because it could contain almost anything.
‘No, nothing perishable,’ he assured me. ‘It’s just that once it became clear that you weren’t coming back for the Feast, the Family decided to send you a few little Yule presents. And your gifts to us from the Green & Friendly Company arrived. Oshan has unpacked everything, ready to hand out after the Solstice.’
‘I ordered them in a rush, but I got everyone a little eco-friendly something, so I hope they like them,’ I said. Most people were getting sets of pencils made from twigs and bamboo toothbrushes, which were probably not that exciting. ‘I had about five minutes to get everything done before I left London.’
‘That was my doing, but look how well everything is turning out!’ said Clara. ‘Come on, let’s have lunch and then afterwards, River, Meg can show you your room so you can unpack and settle in.’
Tottie came in from the garden as we reached the hall. She was introduced and offered River a rather earthy hand, which he grasped without hesitation. Her trug was full of long, pointed orange carrots that reminded me of River’s hat.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said briskly, then added to the rest of us, ‘Teddy will be along in a minute. He just wanted to check if the pineapple in the conservatory has grown enough to eat yet.’
‘A pineapple? I’d like to see that,’ River said interestedly.
‘Tottie’s got all kinds of exotic fruits and plants in her hothouse,’ I told him resignedly. I clearly wasn’t going to be able to keep its existence secret. ‘Her fingers are so green, they’re practically chartreuse.’
‘Meg told me what you grow on the Farm. We must both b
e gardening at about the same elevation, so we can compare notes,’ Tottie said. ‘I believe we both keep bees, too?’
The way River was instantly fitting into the household, you’d think weirdly dressed elfin men with long silver hair and plaited beards arrived to stay at the Red House every day … though, of course, Clara had already met him. He had the happy knack of always being at home wherever he found himself, and in any company.
He had two bowls of mushroom soup and great hunks of wholemeal bread – I didn’t know where he put it all. Then afterwards, they broke open one of the truckles of cheese he’d brought with him, which luckily for me was not goat. They must have done a trade with a neighbouring smallholder.
As we ate, we told him the full story of Nessa and George’s brief and misguided romance, if you could call it that, which resulted in the baby who became my mother.
‘So now you have two homes and two families,’ he said. ‘How fortuitous that you should choose Meg to paint your portrait, Clara. It must have been pre-ordained by the Goddess.’
Then he talked a lot about the mysteries of karma and predestination and so on, but I didn’t take much notice. I already felt a sense of wonderment at the filament-fine thread that was woven through our lives, joining us together.
I came back to earth when they switched to talking about the Solstice.
‘I’m so looking forward to the ceremony tomorrow evening,’ River told them. ‘I brought my own robes with me, because I thought I could wear them to add to the ambience of the occasion, if no one objects.’
River’s robes are made of a kind of silver lamé with appliquéd symbols on the back and around the hem. They would certainly add to the ambience of any occasion.
‘If you do, you must wear lots of clothes under them to keep you warm, like you do at home,’ I told him firmly.
The Christmas Invitation Page 26
