A Christmas Cracker

by Trisha Ashley

  Mercy was keeping Randal, now somewhere in Australia, in the loop with what was happening by way of emails, though I expect at least half of them instead exhorted him to eat well and look after himself.

  And he’d be back all too soon, like a boomerang.

  Emma and Marco paid another visit, this time to see over the cracker factory while it was relatively quiet on a Saturday, though some of the workmen were still around.

  None of the cracker makers were there, though, so I showed Marco and Emma how to make one myself and then they had a go. Their first attempts were a lot neater than mine, especially Emma’s. I thought she was a natural at it.

  When we came out, we decided to walk up into the woods a bit, to where there’s a little shingle beach by the stream and Marco played quite happily while we sat on a handy nearby log.

  I asked her how the daily Skype chats with Desmond, in Qatar were working out.

  ‘They’re a total pain: he expects me to be home and ready to talk to him at the same time every day, and when I’m not, he’s angry.’

  ‘I thought it might just turn into another way of controlling you,’ I said.

  ‘You were right, because despite what he promised when he was home, he still wants to know what I do every moment of every day, and now he can ask me face to face.’

  She looked pensive. ‘He says there’s a possibility he’ll get a year’s contract after this and then we could go out and live in Qatar too.’

  ‘Would you want to move to Qatar for a year?’ I asked, startled.

  ‘Not really. I wouldn’t be able to work over there, and Marco would have to fit into a new school, which might not be that easy, though I expect there’s an International School.’

  She looked at him affectionately as he scooped some kind of water creature up in his cupped hands and examined it carefully, before letting it go again.

  Today he was back in the ruff, but I don’t think he was anyone in particular, he just liked wearing it.

  ‘I’m trying not to think about it – maybe the year’s contract won’t happen,’ she said.

  Back at the house we went into my sitting room, where Marco told Pye and Pugsie all about his theatre group’s coming performance of Alice in Wonderland, in which he was to play the White Rabbit, while Emma and I were discussing the pop-up illustrations I was working on for our joint book project.

  She was fine-tuning the words of the story to go with them, so the whole thing should soon start to come together … as long as she didn’t vanish to Qatar for a year!

  Life wouldn’t be the same without her, or Marco, who entertained Silas and Mercy over tea by acting out part of his White Rabbit role.

  Oh, my ears and whiskers!

  Chapter 43: Christmas Every Day

  Q:What’s the best Christmas present in the world?

  A:A broken drum: you just can’t beat it!

  By the time Randal finally returned from Australia, the Liberty designs had been approved, the order confirmed and the cracker team were working flat out – and me too, when I wasn’t running round on errands for Mercy.

  It’s odd that summer should be the peak time for making Christmas crackers, but so it is, and once the Christmas shop opened we’d have a seasonal feel to the place all year round.

  When Mercy phoned her dear boy, to make sure he had arrived home safe and well, he told her that he felt fine, but he’d advise anyone bungee jumping in the Antipodes not to go for the cheapest option.

  She was not entirely convinced about his health, but she’d be able to see for herself the following weekend – and the planning permission was finally passed on the day before he arrived, so we had something to celebrate!

  This time Randal was alone, because apparently Lacey had gone to a friend’s wedding in Cornwall and was staying down there for a few days.

  This seemed to make him extra morose, which wasn’t helped by his not being able to get in touch with her.

  ‘The phone reception must be as bad as here, or she’s let her mobile run down and forgotten the charger,’ he said, coming back into the drawing room from yet another failed attempt to contact his beloved.

  ‘Or she simply switched it off because she was enjoying herself so much she didn’t want to be bothered?’ I suggested brightly, and he gave me a glare.

  ‘Here,’ I said, handing him a glass of ginger beer and we clinked glasses with Silas and Mercy to toast the passing of the planning permission and the future success of the enterprise.

  ‘Now can I have a decent cup of tea and something to eat?’ asked Silas grumpily, so I passed him the plate of sandwiches. Since the time we’d tried out a Mexican taco recipe on him, he’s been very suspicious and now had a tendency to lift the top off and inspect the contents, but on this occasion all he found was egg mayonnaise, or ham and mustard.

  ‘Did Lacey say anything about Pugsie, last time you spoke?’ asked Mercy. ‘I thought perhaps she might want you to take him back.’

  ‘No, she didn’t mention him, and to be honest, I’d forgotten he was up here, too,’ he confessed, bending to stroke the little pug, who wriggled ecstatically. ‘Do you mind keeping him a bit longer, if I still haven’t spoken to Lacey before I set off back to London tomorrow? I’ve got work to do before I fly out to India, so I can’t have him.’

  ‘No, he isn’t any trouble at all. In fact, he’s company for Pye, isn’t he, pussums?’ she said.

  ‘Ppfft!’ Pye said disgustedly and stalked off back to the kitchen.

  Randal’s mind was clearly still elsewhere. ‘Lacey wanted me to go to this wedding with her, but I didn’t know either the bride or groom, and anyway, I needed to come up here and settle a few details about the café before I go off on my next trip – the last long-haul one.’

  ‘I’m so glad, dear. India, did I hear you say?’ Mercy asked.

  ‘Yes, and Nepal, but I’m still waiting for the final itinerary. Filming two programmes back to back has made for difficult scheduling.’

  ‘We’ll be so happy when you’ve finished your programmes and are home for good,’ Mercy said. ‘And we have some more good news for you: Liberty is going to feature Marwood’s crackers in their Christmas window display.’

  ‘I’d love to go and see it,’ I said wistfully, ‘but I should think we’ll be really busy in November, finishing off the last cracker orders for delivery before Christmas.’

  ‘Yes, orders are positively rolling in now, Randal, and it’s all thanks to dear Tabby,’ Mercy said. ‘Her enthusiasm and artistic eye have been invaluable.’

  ‘I haven’t had that much input, really,’ I said modestly, ‘it’s been more of a team effort.’

  ‘No, I think Mercy’s right and it’s your fresh eye that’s turned things around,’ he said to my complete surprise, but then he spoiled the moment by adding, ‘That museum’s not going to be worth the space it’s occupying, though.’

  ‘You wait and see!’ Silas said, grumpily.

  ‘Yes, the proof of the pudding will be in the eating,’ Mercy told him, and then they went into the library to spread out the plans for the mezzanine area of the mill and decide on a whole lot of details about the seating and kitchen areas.

  I don’t know why designer’s interior sketches all look like space-age walkways, dotted with impossibly slender and elegant people.

  I left them to it and went to my sitting room to work on a pop-up page for the book, collecting Pye, and another glass of delicious ginger beer from the fridge on the way.

  We had roast duck for dinner and since I’d never cooked one before, I helped with that. In fact, I had to put it in the oven, because it takes ages and Mercy and Randal had taken the plans and gone down to the mill.

  She’d left the times written on the back of an old envelope, though: it went in for half an hour on a high setting, then the oven was turned right down and that was it, for about three hours.

  Mercy came back in time to roast the potatoes in the fat, while I set the table and then Randa
l neatly quartered the cooked duck with a large pair of chicken shears.

  Over dinner, Randal and Mercy were still full of their plans for the café and the second phase of the development, but Silas was more interested in the fact that he could now get on with finishing the museum.

  His rheumatism seemed to be playing him up tonight and he retired to his rooms after dinner, while Randal vanished into the library, presumably to try Lacey’s mobile again.

  He came back with a brow like a thundercloud, so I assumed he’d had no luck.

  ‘You still here?’ he said to me, sounding surprised.

  ‘No, I’m a hologram,’ I said tartly. ‘Do you want me to go away?’

  ‘No, of course he doesn’t, dear – do you, Randal?’ Mercy asked.

  ‘I thought she’d have gone to the pub,’ Randal explained. ‘Don’t you usually do that on a Saturday, Tabby?’

  ‘I’ve been to the pub a few times, but it’s hardly a habit and I don’t always go in the evening, either, because Nancy Dagger does a mean Sunday lunch.’

  ‘I’ve heard she’s a good cook,’ Mercy said.

  ‘Your cooking is much better,’ I said loyally, and she blushed.

  ‘I thought you went there to meet up with Guy Martland,’ Randal said, eyeing me closely. ‘Jude says he’s suddenly wanted to spend more time with the family since you arrived.’

  ‘Now I come to think of it, didn’t you tell me Guy said he’d be up again this weekend, Tabby?’ said Mercy.

  ‘I’ve never met Guy anywhere intentionally,’ I said coldly to Randal. ‘But he did text me that he’d be up this weekend – and then sent me another to say something had come up and he wouldn’t.’

  And now I came to think of it, his messages had suddenly dried up, just like Lacey’s. Maybe someone had cut the wires between the frozen north and the south of England?

  ‘You seemed very friendly, especially letting him walk you home from Old Place,’ Randal said, still looking at me narrowly, though I don’t know why he was so interested in whether I was having a fling with Guy or not.

  ‘I did not let him, I simply couldn’t stop him,’ I said, with dignity.

  ‘It’s just as well that he did walk you home, given what happened,’ Mercy said brightly and then, to my complete embarrassment, described the scene with Jeremy and Kate.

  ‘Guy was quite the hero, then,’ he said sardonically, then asked me curiously, ‘What did you do with the ring?’

  ‘Nothing!’ I said indignantly. ‘I haven’t got it.’

  ‘Tabby can’t remember seeing it since she went to prison,’ Mercy said. ‘Still, I expect that unpleasant young man she was engaged to will find it somewhere about his house eventually.’

  ‘Let’s hope he does, because I certainly don’t want my relatives exposed to any more scenes like that,’ he said pointedly.

  ‘I didn’t know he was going to turn up – especially with Kate,’ I snapped back. ‘And Guy totally believed me about the ring!’

  ‘I don’t think Guy’s as black as he’s been painted,’ Mercy said. ‘Perhaps he did do a few silly things when he was younger, but he’s probably ready to settle down now and I’m sure he’s got his eye on Tabby.’

  ‘Then he’d better cast his eye somewhere else,’ I said firmly.

  ‘Lacey doesn’t like Guy very much,’ Randal said. ‘But he’s friends with some of the people she knows, so she can’t avoid him all the time. She said someone should warn you not to get involved with him, because he’s a love-rat.’

  ‘I think it’s most unkind to call the poor boy any kind of rat,’ Mercy protested, then changed the subject by dropping the bombshell that she intended to leave me, Silas and Arlene in charge of the mill at the start of Liz’s school summer holidays, while she took her back to Malawi to visit her relations.

  She’d already told me, but Randal’s jaw dropped.

  ‘What? I thought you weren’t going to fly long-haul any more?’

  ‘No, I only said I wasn’t going to work abroad, though this may well be my last trip.’

  ‘But … you can’t possibly leave Tabby in charge!’

  ‘She won’t be managing everything alone, but sharing the responsibility with Arlene and Silas,’ Mercy reminded him.

  ‘She’ll still be in a position of trust – and I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ he said stubbornly.

  ‘Randal, you really must try to overcome these unworthy prejudices against Tabby, who has truly proved her worth.’

  ‘Thank you for your trust,’ I said to her sincerely. ‘And we’ll all do our utmost to keep things going while you’re away.’

  ‘I’ll only be gone a couple of weeks, anyway,’ she said, ‘and I’ll always be contactable by email, if nothing else.’

  Randal was still eyeing me uncertainly. ‘I’ll go over the books when I return from India,’ he warned me.

  ‘You can check the books and count the crackers till the cows come home, but you won’t find anything wrong,’ I said.

  Feeling I’d had enough of Randal for one evening I wished them good night, but I didn’t go to my rooms. Instead, followed by Pye, I let myself out of the kitchen door and wandered through the dark scented knot gardens, with their herbs and rosemary and the sharp tang of box. It was very soothing and totally quiet, except for the occasional hoot of an owl.

  I was sitting on the bottom step of the terrace just above the moat when Pye hissed warningly.

  ‘Ill met by moonlight, Titania. There’s no sneaking up on you, when your familiar’s about,’ said Randal’s gravelly voice.

  ‘Did you want to sneak up on me?’ I asked. ‘Push me into the moat, perhaps? Only I can swim, so that would be pointless.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you’re allowed to dunk witches any more,’ he said, and then, uninvited, lowered his large frame down next to me.

  ‘Hello, Pye. Are you speaking to me now? What if I promise you a bacon rind in the morning?’

  Pye’s milky eye seemed to glow eerily. ‘Mmrow?’ he said, quite mildly, before getting up and sauntering off.

  ‘His allegiance can be bought, but only temporarily,’ I told him.

  ‘You seem very attached to each other.’

  ‘He was my mother’s cat, too … which makes him the last living link between us.’

  There was a silence while we both regarded the chewed-silver-penny moon, reflected on the moat’s surface.

  Then he said, ‘I trust Charlie Clancy’s opinion – he’s rarely wrong in his judgement of character – but … sometimes I wonder if you were quite as guilty as he thought you were.’

  ‘Gee, thanks, I’ll treasure those words for ever,’ I said.

  ‘And other times, I think you’re a sharp little witch trying to pull the wool over all our eyes,’ he said, ignoring that. ‘On the make – only I just haven’t figured out how yet.’

  ‘I’m going to run off with the entire Marwood’s luxury cracker stock and sell it on the street,’ I said scathingly. ‘Don’t be daft. The only money that passes through my hands that isn’t earned from my greetings card illustrations, or my wages, is the cash Mercy gives me when I run errands for her. She’ll tell you that I always give her the receipts and the change.’

  ‘I expect she would, because you’ve certainly got her under your spell,’ he said, turning his head to look at me. The moon silvered his hair, but made mysterious dark pools of his eyes. He put his hand under my chin and pushed it up, bending to stare into my face, as if he could find what he wanted to know written there. He was so close that our breath met and mingled … and then our lips touched, fleetingly.

  He sprang away and rose in one lithe movement, as if the contact had seared him, and strode off without another word.

  ‘Weird!’ I murmured, shaken and staring after him.

  ‘Ppft!’ agreed Pye, materialising from the shadows.

  Chapter 44: Snowed Under

  Q:What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?

 
; A:Frost bite!

  If anything, Randal was even more monosyllabic than usual in the morning, so I began to think that maybe last night’s fleeting kiss hadn’t actually happened. Or at any rate, was accidental, because it had been the merest brush of the lips … so it was odd that I could still feel that momentary pressure.

  My eyes met his dark hazel ones as he sat at the kitchen table and I looked away again quickly, turning my back so he couldn’t see that I was blushing. He was probably comparing my dark ordinariness with Lacey’s alabaster skin and red-gold hair, which would light up the room like a bright flame.

  Or it would have, if she’d come with him and ever got up for breakfast.

  Mercy, who was buttering toast with a lavish hand, told me that Randal had offered to drive her and Silas to the Quaker meeting, but I left long before them, in Mercy’s car, because I’d arranged to spend the day with Emma.

  It was Marco’s birthday and he’d decided on a fancy dress party at home for his six closest friends, mostly from his theatre group, so I’d been roped in to help. I had a tin full of iced fairy cakes as my contribution, and Marco’s present – a very realistic-looking broadsword, helmet and breastplate, which had reminded me of the suit of armour in the drawing room.

  I got back by late afternoon, having had an exhausting but pleasurable time, and bearing two paper napkin-wrapped pieces of cake, which Marco insisted I bring back for Silas and Mercy.

  And I hadn’t told even Emma about the kiss, because I was now convinced that Randal had merely misjudged the distance between us and the contact wasn’t intentional …

  He’d long since left for London and Mote Farm had sunk back into its usual air of quiet enchantment, with the two elderly siblings cosily having tea together in the drawing room, while Pye tracked the movements of the Invisible Ones and Pugsie snored.

  While Randal was winging off to yet more exotic locations, here at Godsend, with the planning permission finally in place, the activity at the mill ratcheted up several gears.

  The mezzanine floor was being strengthened before the café was fitted out and the interior of the Christmas shop completed. Arlene and I had spent many happy hours designing the layout and sourcing the stock and I was slowly rediscovering my love of Christmas to the point that I was now becoming evangelical about it.