Clara was drinking her usual whisky and soda, and Sybil and Tottie held glasses of golden mead.
‘… strong fetlocks and a sweet nature,’ Sybil was saying, so I deduced they were discussing something equine.
‘Everything I always looked for in a man,’ I said, and Tottie gave her bark of laughter.
‘What is?’ asked Lex, coming in with a laden log basket. There were starry drops of melting snow in his dark curls.
‘Strong fetlocks and a sweet nature,’ said Sybil, smiling.
‘That’s me to a T, then, but unfortunately, I can’t marry all of you.’ He put the log basket next to the fire and carefully added one or two more to the blaze.
The door opened again and Zelda wandered in, a slightly dreamy expression on her face. She was dressed in something short, holly-berry red, and with interesting cut-out bits that revealed selected portions of her curvy, but petite, anatomy.
‘Mark all right?’ asked Clara.
‘Yes, he’s—’ She broke off and blushed. ‘How did you know I’d been talking to him?’
‘Intuition, darling,’ said Clara.
Sybil stared at Zelda, a frown between her eyes. She looked as if she was about to say something, had Henry, Teddy and River not joined us at that moment.
‘No sign of Piers yet,’ observed Henry.
‘No. Perhaps you should rattle the whisky bottle and a glass together at the bottom of the stairs?’ suggested Clara.
‘Actually, when I went up to change and found him still flat out on the bed, there was a distinct smell of brandy,’ said River. ‘I think he may have had further supplies in his Gladstone bag.’
‘I suppose if he doesn’t appear by the time Den beats the gong, we’ll have to wake him up,’ Tottie said. ‘And we still have to get him down to Flora’s once he’s been fed.’
‘Some solid food and a cup of coffee should do the trick,’ Clara said.
‘I hope Flora won’t find him too much of a pain,’ said Henry. ‘Perhaps I should warn her to lock up the mini-bar in the guest lounge?’
Sybil looked unhappy again. ‘Piers does drink rather a lot. Daddy was always much worse when Piers was staying with us.’
‘I’d back Flora to cope with Piers any day,’ said Clara. ‘There’s no need for you to look so guilty and worried, Sybil: it’s not your fault he’s here.’
‘What are we all doing tomorrow?’ asked Henry, changing the subject. ‘I know you young ones are going to Underhill in the morning, to help Mark.’
‘Yes, if the road is clear enough I’ll run us all up there. Zelda’s staying on but I’ll bring Meg back for lunch,’ said Lex.
‘I’m hoping you might give me another sitting in the afternoon, Tottie?’ I suggested.
‘I don’t see why not,’ she agreed.
‘I’m steaming full ahead with my memoirs,’ said Clara. ‘I’m going to finish the current volume, before starting my next crime novel.’
‘There is to be another volume, then?’ enquired Tottie.
‘Oh, yes, because I feel that finding Meg heralds the start of a new chapter in our lives, don’t you?’
‘I do,’ agreed Henry. ‘And now my own work is finished, bar the final polishing, perhaps I might also start a second volume: about the village coming back like a ghost during the last dry spell.’
‘It really did look odd when walls and ruined houses started to reappear,’ Tottie said.
‘I wish I’d seen that,’ said River.
‘I’ve got some photographs in the library. I’ll show them to you later,’ she promised.
‘I’ll be the village postman as well tomorrow,’ said Henry, and River offered to go with him to help.
‘What about me?’ asked Teddy. ‘Shall I come to Underhill, Uncle Lex, or be a postman with Henry and River?’
‘Den said earlier that he’d really like some help in the kitchen tomorrow morning,’ River said. ‘It was something about a chocolate log, and that he was counting on you.’
‘Oh, yes, the log!’ Teddy exclaimed. ‘I’d forgotten we were going to make that.’
Den threw open the door and ushered Piers through it with a mock bow and the words, ‘’Ere’s ’is nibs down fer ’is dinner.’
Piers must have applied cold water to his hair, for it lay in flat, dull white locks across his head. His glacial eyes watered and he was preceded by a strong smell of brandy.
‘Light blue touchpaper and retire,’ suggested Den.
Lass, fixing her eyes on Piers, growled low in her throat. It was quite impressive for a dog who spent most of her time either eating or fast asleep. Wisty and Pansy, curled up in a heap before the fire, took no notice at all.
‘Den, I’ll help you with the chocolate log tomorrow,’ Teddy offered.
‘I was counting on it, Teddy, wasn’t I? And I’ve made you a treat for dinner – a rabbit.’
This seemed unlikely, but Piers brightened up.
‘I’m partial to a bit of jugged hare, or rabbit with mustard sauce.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Clara. ‘It’s a pink blancmange rabbit for afters, isn’t it, Den?’
‘That’s right. There’s rice pud fer anyone who don’t fancy that.’
‘Hare today and gone tomorrow,’ joked Tottie, and we all groaned.
‘Is no one going to offer me a drink?’ said Piers.
‘Dinner’s ready, ain’t it?’ Den said, brandishing the gong. ‘And yer already smell like a distillery.’
‘Let’s all go in,’ Henry said, hastily getting up, and we all followed suit.
I’d never seen Sybil wearing anything but riding clothes before, but tonight she’d put on a wrap dress in an old gold colour that suited her very well.
Unfortunately, this had the effect of turning Piers gruesomely gallant.
‘How lovely all the ladies look tonight,’ he said, leering at Zelda, ‘but especially you, Sybil. You must let me take you in to dinner.’
He drew her arm through his and led her into the hall, as if they were in some period drama set in a stately home. I noticed Sybil’s perfume as she went past, something very strong and unusual, yet somehow familiar.
In the hall Piers came to a sudden stop under the kissing bough.
‘Well, well, here’s an opportune bunch of mistletoe!’ he said, then kissed Sybil, though she turned her head at the last minute and it landed on her cheek rather than her lips.
Undaunted, he said gaily, his eyes moving from me to Zelda in her red mini dress, ‘Now, who’s next?’
‘Nobody wants to kiss you, Piers,’ said Clara firmly. ‘But we do want our dinner, so let’s go into the dining room before it goes cold.’
‘I feel I’ve just had a narrow escape from a ghastly experience,’ I whispered to Lex.
‘I can’t remember anyone ever kissing me under the mistletoe,’ he replied. ‘But I like to think I’m a more attractive proposition than Piers.’
‘Maybe you haven’t tried his scattergun method of asking?’ I said, grinning.
‘No, but there’s no one left to fire at now, except you and Pansy … and call me picky, but I’d prefer not to kiss a dog.’
I looked up and found his dark green eyes looking down into mine were not agate-hard at that moment, but soft and a little sad.
On a sudden impulse, I stood on tiptoe and kissed him quickly … or at least, it was meant to be quickly, but his arms went round me, holding me close and the moment went on for ever.
Then Pansy suddenly emitted a sharp and jealous volley of yapping and we fell apart, staring at each other, before bursting into speech at once.
‘Meg! I—’ Lex sounded oddly shaken.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean—’ I began.
A voice interrupted us. ‘You two want yer dinner out ’ere?’ asked Den, who was heading for the dining room with a covered dish, followed by River, carrying a basket of bread rolls.
‘I see the Goddess put the idea of the kissing bough into my head for a purpose,’ River sai
d, and smiled benignly on us.
34
Well Spiced
Lex and I took our seats at the dining table, carefully not looking at each other, which wasn’t easy, since we were directly opposite. Another leaf had been added to the table to make room for us all. As well as Sybil and Piers, Den was dining with us and had laid a place for himself between Tottie and Clara.
We passed round the basket of rolls and the butter and Den uncovered the serving dish to reveal two smaller ones inside, which Piers regarded with disfavour.
‘What on earth are those?’
‘This one’s vegetable pâté, and the other mushroom,’ said Tottie.
‘Mushrooms are vegetables,’ Teddy said.
‘Fungi, smarty-pants,’ said Tottie amiably.
‘Oh God, I’d forgotten you were all vegetarians. I should have remembered those weird snacks you serve up at your Boxing Day party,’ said Piers. ‘It’s a wonder anyone goes to it, what with that and the lack of a decent drink.’
‘If you haven’t managed to get away by then, Piers, do feel free to give it a miss and stay at the guesthouse,’ Clara told him.
‘Ditto Christmas Day,’ agreed Henry.
Piers’ brandy-clouded mind seemed to find the concept of a vegetarian Christmas dinner impossible to grasp.
‘But you must be having turkey on Christmas Day, surely, if only for your guests?’
‘No, of course we’re not. It’ll be a delicious savoury nut roast instead,’ Clara told him. ‘We usually have mini salmon en croûte parcels for starters, though.’
Piers’ mouth had dropped open, which wasn’t a pretty sight. ‘But … not even a Christmas ham?’
‘At the Farm, we keep two pigs just to dig up the soil where we wish to plant,’ said River gently. ‘They’re better than any Rotovator.’
Piers ignored him and appealed to Sybil, who he seemed to feel was his only ally in the present company.
‘Surely the Westphalian ham you always have at Underhill could be brought over here and—’
‘Not into my house, it can’t,’ said Henry firmly.
‘There is a ham, Piers, but that’s going to keep Mark going over Christmas, while he’s working. But he’ll join us here for Christmas dinner, of course.’ Sybil gave Piers a timid smile. ‘I really don’t mind being vegetarian while I’m staying here, because Den cooks such delicious food!’
Den looked flattered, though we were always praising the wonderful things he produced for us to eat.
‘We do have Christmas pudding and a cake and trifle,’ Tottie said, offering a sop.
‘I need meat,’ he said. ‘I can’t live on lentils and lettuce leaves.’
‘I expect Flora will cater to your inner carnivore at the guesthouse,’ Lex said. ‘You’ll probably get a full English breakfast.’
Piers grunted. ‘It’s to be hoped so.’ He looked around the table and said, ‘You’ve forgotten the wine.’
‘We don’t really go in for wine with dinner much,’ said Clara. ‘In fact, we’re not great drinkers at all, any of us. Shall I pass you the water jug?’
‘Water?’
You’d think she’d suggested passing him a poisoned chalice.
‘My apple wine is very good, so we could open a bottle of that, if you fancy it?’ offered Tottie as a concession, but Piers just stared at her blankly.
‘Well, please yourself.’ She shrugged.
‘What are we having for our main course tonight, Den?’ asked Henry.
‘Kedgeree, but without any ’addock, though I cooked the rice in fish stock, didn’t I? Lentils, spices, eggs and cream.’
‘Sounds delicious,’ I said, wondering if he would give me the recipe for Oshan. If he replaced the fish stock with vegetable, used vegan cream and omitted the eggs … No, on second thoughts, perhaps not.
‘We’re going Angular Indian tonight,’ said Den. ‘Afters is rice pud with cardy-moms.’
‘Anglo-Indian,’ corrected Clara.
Den seemed to be about to dispute this point, but Piers said, ‘That’s rather a lot of rice and I’m not fond of it, or anything spicy.’
‘We all love anything spicy,’ said Tottie. ‘Syb does too, don’t you, Syb? We usually have a good hot curry on Boxing Day evening, so it’s just as well you won’t be here for that.’
The kedgeree was golden and delicious, though Piers made a show of picking at a mere spoonful. Afterwards, River carried in the big tureen of rice pudding and Den a pink blancmange rabbit, quivering on its dish.
‘I like rice pudding, but not when it’s got big green seeds in it that taste like perfume,’ said Teddy, as Tottie scooped blancmange into his bowl.
‘I don’t see how you can tell what perfume tastes like, Teddy,’ said Zelda. ‘It’s hardly part of your normal diet.’
‘I know what he means, though,’ said Clara. ‘It does taste odd when you inadvertently bite into a cardamom pod.’
‘I think Sybil’s wearing pod perfume,’ said Teddy, looking fixedly at her.
‘Is it a bit strong?’ she asked, anxiously. ‘I don’t usually bother, except for a splash of Penhaligon’s Violetta, but they sent me a trial size of this new one. I’m not quite sure if it’s me or not. I did dab a bit on when it arrived on the day of the Solstice, but I was mostly outside, so I didn’t notice it.’
‘I thought it was familiar!’ I said. ‘I must have noticed it at the Gathering, when you were cleaning up my hands and face.’
‘I like it, but I think it’s wearing you, rather than the other way round, Syb,’ said Tottie.
‘It’s a delightful scent,’ River assured her kindly. ‘Perfect for special occasions, like this happy gathering.’
He beamed around the table, though not everyone was looking entirely happy and at that moment I saw Zelda’s face freeze and her eyes suddenly widen. Then Piers, who was sitting next to her, gave a yelp and snatched his hand from under the tablecloth.
‘I think my bloody finger’s dislocated!’ he exclaimed.
‘Oh dear, have you hurt yourself?’ Zelda said sweetly. ‘You really should be more careful!’
‘I caught it on the table edge,’ he said, seeing all our eyes on him and swallowing down the angry remark he was clearly about to make.
‘I’d try not to do that again,’ suggested Clara drily.
Sybil had missed this byplay, for she was deeply engrossed in a comfortable chat with River about gardening. They appeared to be getting on very well, something Piers didn’t seem pleased about, because he kept scowling in their direction until we rose from the table.
Zelda and Tottie took a very sleepy Teddy straight up to bed. Lex and I helped Den clear the table while the others went into the drawing room.
‘Nearly time to get rid of ghastly Piers,’ Lex said, closing the door on the dishwasher. Then he grinned. ‘I don’t think he’ll try anything on with Zelda again, do you?’
‘No, it served him right! Though I do feel a tiny bit sorry for him,’ I confessed. ‘I mean, he doesn’t know he’s ghastly, does he? He thinks he’s God’s gift to women. And then, he is very old.’
‘Late seventies isn’t that old these days and, anyway, being old doesn’t entitle you to be obnoxious, does it?’
‘’E’s always been bleedin’ obnoxious,’ observed Den, who was now making the coffee. ‘A nastier pair than ’e and that George were, yer’d never find. ’Ard to believe ’e was ’Enry’s brother.’
And my grandfather, I thought, though I didn’t feel madly keen to acknowledge the relationship with him.
Den went off to his flat and we took the coffee through. Predictably, Piers spurned it and demanded something stronger.
‘If you’re not having coffee, Piers, then I might as well take you down to Flora’s now,’ suggested Lex. ‘She’s expecting you, and we don’t want to leave it too late because the roads will be freezing again.’
‘I don’t think I want to go out into the cold again this evening,’ he said pathetically. ‘It�
��s too much to ask of a man my age and—’
‘I’m driving you down; it’s not as if you’re going to walk,’ pointed out Lex. ‘I’ll bring the pick-up round and you can get in when it’s warmed up, so you’ll only be out in the cold for two seconds.’ He got up and left the room.
Piers turned to Sybil. ‘I wanted to have a little private chat with you after dinner, dear girl,’ he began. ‘Perhaps before I leave we can—’
‘You’d better start putting your outdoor things on now, Piers,’ Henry interrupted. ‘Lex has gone for the pick-up and he’ll be ready for you in a few minutes.’
‘Yes, you mustn’t keep him waiting,’ Sybil said.
I thought she looked relieved, until he gave her a hard stare and snapped, ‘Come and see me at this guesthouse tomorrow morning, Sybil. I’ll be expecting you.’
‘Oh … but I’m not sure I …’ Sybil stammered.
Piers’ voice became oily. ‘I came all this way to see you, my dear. You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?’
She stared at him, swallowed hard and then, summoning up a weak smile, said, ‘No, of course not. I’ll walk down if there hasn’t been heavy snowfall overnight.’
Lex sounded his horn and everyone enthusiastically bundled Piers into his coat and scarf, then urged him out. It was snowing, but in a half-hearted way. Lex helped Piers to get in and then went back round to the driver’s side.
Before I could stop myself I’d called anxiously, ‘Be careful, Lex!’
‘Don’t worry about me. I’m used to the weather up here,’ he said, smiling at me, and got in.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Clara assured me, giving my arm a pat. ‘Come along in before we let all the warm air out.’
Back in the drawing room, there was a palpable lightening of the atmosphere.
Zelda and Tottie returned from putting Teddy to bed and reported that he’d fallen asleep instantly.
Sybil said, ‘Teddy’s such a lovely little boy. I remember Mark at that age …’ But then her face clouded over and she looked anxious again. During the course of the evening I’d become sure she had something on her mind, but I’d no idea what.
The Christmas Invitation Page 36
