A Christmas Cracker

by Trisha Ashley

‘I suppose it doesn’t matter really and Mercy does like animals,’ I conceded. ‘It would just have been good to ask her if it was OK first.’

  ‘He’s an ickle doggie that everyone will love,’ she said, kissing the top of the pug’s head with an enthusiasm I wished she’d expend on me occasionally.

  Once we were getting closer to Godsend, I reverted to the subject most on my mind. ‘Just give Mercy a chance to get to know you on this first visit – don’t go into any details about what your mail-order firm actually sells,’ I suggested, because her upbringing had made Lacey totally matter-of-fact on the subject of sex, which to her was just another business opportunity.

  She looked astonished. ‘You think she might disapprove? But that’s so old-fashioned and puritanical!’

  ‘Actually, Mercy’s pretty broad-minded on the whole, most Quakers are, but I’m not sure how she’s going to take it – and my uncle was really strait-laced, so he would have been horrified by the idea of something like Instant Orgy being run from Friendship Mill.’

  ‘Well, now I’ve had more time to think about it, I’m not sure that I want to relocate my business to the sticks,’ she snapped. ‘For a start, I hadn’t realised it took so long to get all the way up here! But anyway, if you invest your own money in the redevelopment and you’re a director and shareholder, you can do what you like.’

  ‘Not quite: Mercy will be investing some of her own money in the mill redevelopment and I’m sure will remain the majority shareholder.’

  ‘She’s got money of her own, not just what you’re uncle left her?’

  ‘Yes, she was an heiress and she’s still loaded, even though she’s given away a fortune to charities, especially those working in Malawi.’

  ‘And she’s no children of her own to leave it to?’

  I could see where she was heading with this. ‘She’s guardian to her Malawian goddaughter, Liz, who calls her “Grandmother” and she’s very fond of her. I’m sure she’ll support her through school and university and leave her well provided for, and I should think her pet charity projects will get some hefty sums of money, too.’

  I glanced across at Lacey and saw her beautiful, pensive face, chin still resting on top of Pugsie’s head.

  ‘So you see, darling, I’d like her to get to know and love you before you go into details about your business – and when you’ve seen the scale of the mill project, you might even want to help me with that, instead. It would be fun to work together, wouldn’t it? We’d make a great team.’

  ‘What, give up Instant Orgy? You must be joking,’ she said. ‘And when we’re married she’ll have to get used to what I do for a living, wherever it’s based, so better sooner than later. I’m not ashamed of it.’

  ‘No, of course not,’ I agreed quickly, and gave up with a sigh. Maybe she’d think it over and see that tact in the first instance would be a very good idea … or perhaps Mercy just wouldn’t be as shocked as I thought she would be.

  Pugsie began to make unmistakable retching noises. ‘God, he’s going to throw up. I told you not to give him what was left of your dinner,’ I exclaimed. ‘Hold his head over something, quickly.’

  ‘Like what?’ she demanded, holding him away from her.

  ‘Your handbag – that’s more than big enough,’ I suggested.

  ‘It’s a Bayswater – you’re mad!’

  But luckily I’d just turned off the motorway and pulled into a lay-by with a squealing of brakes. Lacey opened the door just in time to let Pugsie empty the contents of his stomach into the long grass, but relations all round were still a bit strained by the time we reached Mote Farm.

  Chapter 30: Unfettered and Free

  Q:What do you call a penguin in the Sahara?

  A:Lost!

  After dinner I cleared away and stacked the dishwasher, then set out the tray for coffee, before going back through. It was weird, not feeling the clasp of the tag around my ankle.

  Silas was half asleep in his armchair with Pye curled up on his lap, but Mercy was bobbing up and down, eagerly listening for the sounds of arrival. As soon as the bell pealed, she was off into the hall like a whippet.

  ‘Silas,’ I hissed, ‘I think they’re here!’

  ‘What?’ he exclaimed, giving a galvanic jerk that startled Pye into jumping off and stalking away in high dudgeon. ‘I wasn’t asleep, I just closed my eyes for a second.’

  ‘Of course – but I think your nephew and his fiancée have arrived. Mercy’s gone to let them in.’

  ‘Load of nonsense!’ he uttered in tones of disgust. ‘Another damned stranger in the house.’

  I didn’t take that personally, because he’d got used to me now, but if Mercy’d heard him swear, she’d have washed his mouth out with soap and water.

  She was back now, herding the visitors before her like an over-eager sheepdog. Randal didn’t look to be in a good temper, though with that thin, straight mouth and square jaw, it’s hard to tell. But after one glance at him I just stared at Lacey Bucknall in amazement: she was the most stunningly beautiful woman I’d ever set eyes on.

  She was a little taller than me, slender, but also curvy in the right places. Her skin was palest alabaster, lit from within, her eyes huge periwinkle-blue pools with lashes that fluttered like black butterflies … though I expect she darkened them, since her cloud of silken hair was a vibrant bronze-red.

  ‘Here we are – and a warm welcome to your future home, my dear,’ said Mercy, kissing the newcomer, a salute that was received rather than reciprocated. Lacey was clutching a fat fur muff with both hands, rather like a comfort blanket, which I thought must be a current fashion trend.

  She cast a rather disparaging glance around the dark-panelled room with its intricate moulded Tudor ceiling, and said, ‘Well, as to that, we’ll see, won’t we? It’s very old,’ she added, though not as if that was a good thing.

  Mercy took this at face value. ‘It is indeed very old and I’ll show you round tomorrow, unless Randal would like to. But at the moment I expect you’d like to see your room and then have a drink and something to eat. But first, let me introduce you to my brother, Silas, and Tabby.’

  Silas held out his hand, as one duty bound, and before shaking it she bent and put the grey-brown muff on the floor. It sneezed and turned two bright, black button eyes on the assembly.

  ‘Oh – it’s a pug!’ I said. ‘Is he—’ But my enquiry as to whether he was used to cats died on my lips as he and Pye spotted each other at the same moment.

  Pye immediately fluffed himself up to twice his size and a less brave, or possibly more intelligent, dog would have backed off with due meekness at this point. Instead, the small creature hurled himself into battle, yapping and snarling.

  Astonished and affronted, Pye held his ground and dealt the intruder a sharp smack across the nose, claws out, which sent him bowling across the room like a furry football.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Mercy. ‘I was just about to tell you that Lacey had brought her little doggie with her, but I’d quite forgotten about Pye.’

  ‘Pugsie!’ exclaimed Lacey, with more animation than she’d so far shown and Randal scooped up the little dog and handed it to her.

  ‘I forgot about the cat, too,’ he said. ‘It’s Tabby’s. It was here last time I came.’

  ‘His poor little nose is bleeding,’ Lacey said, examining the panting pug, whose eyes were bulging alarmingly as she clutched him to her bosom. ‘You vicious, nasty creature!’ she said to Pye.

  Pye had sat down again and was washing the contaminated paw he’d swiped Pugsie with. He stopped and gave her a look and she recoiled.

  ‘What’s the matter with his eyes?’

  ‘Nothing, he’s just got one milky blue one, and one green, that’s all,’ I said. ‘And I’m so sorry he hurt your dog, but he did attack first, and Pye was only defending himself. If dogs ignore him, he doesn’t take any notice of them.’

  In fact, I think Pye considers the disgusting creatures totally below his notice
, so had Pugsie abased himself from the start, he’d have been tolerated.

  Pye now turned his mismatched eyes on the dog and said warningly, ‘Mrrow!’

  ‘Put the dog on the floor and let them sort it out between them,’ Silas suggested, sitting down in his chair and clearly feeling he’d done all that good manners could expect of him. ‘I don’t think he’ll make the same mistake twice.’

  ‘He’s not hurt really, Lacey,’ Randal assured her. ‘It’s just a little scratch on his nose. But I don’t see why Tabby’s cat should have the whole run of the house. He could stay in the kitchens while we’re here.’

  ‘You explain that to Pye, then,’ I told him, and he gave me a cold look from those hazel eyes.

  ‘We like having him about and I’m sure they’ll get used to each other,’ Mercy said optimistically. ‘Do let Tabby take you upstairs and show you your room now, Lacey, while I go and make the coffee. I expect Pye will come with me – he always hopes for a little titbit, don’t you, pussums?’ she said fondly to him.

  ‘I don’t know about coffee, I could do with a stiff drink after that,’ Lacey said. ‘Vodka and soda, if you’ve got it.’

  ‘I’m afraid we’re a temperance household, dear,’ said Mercy.

  Lacey looked blank. ‘A what?’

  ‘They don’t drink, or even have alcohol in the house,’ explained Randal.

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s like the Dark Ages up here,’ she muttered, but luckily I don’t think either Silas or Mercy caught that.

  ‘Get my case from the hall, will you?’ she said to me tersely, clearly thinking I was the home help.

  ‘Get it yourself,’ I said, startled into rudeness.

  ‘I’ll bring it up,’ Randal said, a hint of amusement in his voice. ‘You go ahead with Tabby, darling. Mercy, where have you put her?’

  ‘The French bedroom, Randal.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ I said to Lacey, who was still gazing at me as if no one had ever been rude to her in her life before, which maybe they hadn’t.

  Still carrying Pugsie, she followed me upstairs and along the passage to the west wing, where I opened the door and ushered her into her charming room.

  ‘Here we are,’ I said. ‘Pretty, isn’t it?’

  Lacey surveyed the draped and crowned bed and then remarked, ‘It looks like a set from a bad porn film.’

  ‘I’ll have to take your word for that, I haven’t seen any kind of porn film,’ I said, glad that Mercy had sent me to show her up to her room, rather than take her herself!

  ‘The bathroom is just across the passage, though I use that one too, so if it’s occupied just go along to the right a bit and you’ll find another.’

  ‘What’s that dreadful smell?’ She was sniffing the air with her perfect little retroussé nose.

  I sniffed experimentally with my great big hooter. Ever since I set eyes on Lacey I’d felt oversized and remarkably plain.

  ‘There isn’t one. All I can smell is hyacinths.’

  ‘Then that’s what it is. They’re vile and you’ll have to take them away.’

  ‘Randal, darling,’ she said, turning to him as he appeared in the doorway with her case, ‘someone’s put stinking flowers in my room!’

  ‘I’ll remove them,’ I said quickly, and picking up the pottery trough of offending blooms, made a hasty retreat down the backstairs to the kitchen.

  Mercy had just made a pot of coffee and put it on the tray when I went in and she looked surprised to see me carrying the hyacinths.

  ‘Lacey loved them, but flowers give her hay fever,’ I said tactfully.

  ‘Silly me, not to have thought of that,’ she said. ‘Do put them in your sitting room if you’d like them, dear. Now, are you joining us for coffee?’

  ‘If you don’t mind, I think Pye and I will stay in here now,’ I said. ‘If we close the kitchen door, he and Pugsie won’t have another confrontation tonight and perhaps we can introduce them carefully to each other in the morning.’

  ‘It hasn’t been the best start,’ Mercy commented. ‘She seems a reserved kind of girl, doesn’t she?’

  ‘I expect she’s just tired and it’s always a bit of an ordeal facing a room full of strangers, isn’t it?’ I suggested.

  ‘You’re right, that will be it!’ Mercy said, looking more cheerful.

  When she’d gone, I opened the kitchen door and Pye and I went out into the herb garden at the side of the house, which had been out of bounds to me at night since I’d arrived.

  We followed the path round the edge of the moat to the foot of the terraces behind the house. The shutters hadn’t been closed over the mullioned windows of the drawing room and a tall, broad-shouldered and unmistakable figure passed one of them, then stopped and looked out.

  I didn’t think he could see us in the dusk and there was no reason why we shouldn’t have been in the garden, but I felt like an intruder. We carried on, circumnavigating our little island and then retreating back to our rooms.

  In bed, there was no weighty tag to tether me to my past, and my dreams that night were unfettered and free.

  Chapter 31: Four-Legged Friends

  Q:Why did the skeleton go to the New Year’s Eve party on his own?

  A:Because he had no body to go with!

  I woke early as usual next morning and though the sky was still a translucent dusky cerulean blue, the birds were already singing.

  I opened the doors through to the kitchen so Pye could go out and then tiptoed upstairs for a shower. There was no sound of anyone else stirring yet, though I knew Mercy wouldn’t be far behind me.

  I left the bathroom as pristine as I’d found it, ready for Lacey when she made an appearance, and I was just coming out when I heard a muffled yapping from the direction of the French Room. Then a door opened and closed and Pugsie hurtled towards me down the landing, like a fur-covered bullet.

  I recoiled, but his intentions were apparently friendly, for when he reached me he wriggled his whole body and would have wagged his tail, had he had enough of one. He yelped again, meaningfully.

  ‘You want to go out, don’t you?’ I said, resignedly scooping him up and carrying him down the steep stone back stairs and into the kitchen, where Pye greeted us with a disgusted-sounding ‘Pfft!’

  ‘Right, you two: best manners, OK?’ I warned, putting the pug down. But I needn’t have worried, because Pugsie had learned his lesson. He lay down and rolled over submissively and Pye sighed, got up in disgust and oozed out through the cat-flap into the garden.

  Pugsie watched him go, seemingly astonished by this feat, so I had to open the door and take him outside, where he peed for quite ten minutes on the box hedge.

  ‘You realise if Bradley spots you doing that to his garden, he’s likely to turn you into a small pair of mittens, don’t you?’ I asked him, and he grinned, his tongue lolling out. He was overweight and rather grotesque, but quite endearing for all that.

  He followed me back inside, where we found Mercy had started cooking bacon and eggs, and Pugsie immediately transferred his attention to her.

  ‘I expect he’s hungry,’ I said. ‘He’d better have those saucers you used for Pye when he first arrived, because Lacey probably hasn’t brought his dishes with her,’ I suggested. ‘I hope she remembered to bring some food, though.’

  ‘I’ll ask Randal when he comes down – he’s usually an early riser. But what about Pye, have they met again yet?’

  I told her they had, and that I thought Pye would tolerate the intruder, as long as he kept to his place. Then I put my share of the bacon in a bun to take with me and made my escape to the mill.

  A couple of quiet hours working in the old stockrooms before everyone else arrived was infinitely more attractive than the prospect of sharing the breakfast table with Randal!

  At last I’d finished all the clearing, cleaning and sorting, and everything destined for the museum was stacked up in the middle of one room and covered with dustsheets.

  I’d volunteere
d to paint the walls with a neutral undercoat, while Mercy and Silas debated the final colour, so I got on with that next. Painting was soothing and I wasn’t conscious of time passing until Dorrie Bird appeared with a cup of tea, a slice of marble cake and some gossip.

  ‘Randal’s here, showing that fiancée of his over the mill. She’s a beauty and no mistake, luv,’ she told me, putting the cup and plate down on the top rung of the ladder.

  ‘Yes, she’s stunning,’ I agreed.

  ‘Still, beauty is as beauty does, and her manners aren’t so pretty,’ Dorrie said darkly. ‘When Randal was showing her the cracker workshop I overheard her say, “God, all the people here are so old – and those crackers are such total crap I’m surprised you sell any.”’

  ‘Age is immaterial – and just wait till she sees our wonderful new range of crackers!’ I said. ‘Have they gone, now?’

  ‘Only into the other buildings. She said she’d got some kind of business she might relocate here when they’re married – or at least, he seems to think she will, but she didn’t sound that enthusiastic to me.’

  ‘I think it’s mail-order party supplies, and there’d be plenty of room to accommodate that. Did she have a little pug dog with her?’

  ‘No dog at all that I saw, unless you count Randal,’ Dorrie said, grinning. ‘He was panting after her, all right. But then, I expect most men do.’

  ‘Lacey of Troy, the face that launched a thousand ships,’ I said absently, thinking that Lacey must have left Pugsie at the house, so I only hoped Pye didn’t forget himself and eat the poor little morsel.

  ‘Hey up,’ Dorrie warned me as Lacey and Randal walked into the first of the museum rooms, then she gave me a conspiratorial grimace and sidled out past them.

  ‘These rooms look huge when they’re almost empty,’ Randal said, ‘but you don’t have to paint the walls yourself, Tabby. We’ll get the decorators in.’

  ‘Actually I quite like doing it, and it’s just the undercoat to freshen it up. The electricians are going to change the lighting and put some more sockets in later, so I’ll probably have to retouch it before the final coat goes on and the new flooring’s laid.’