by Jane Linfoot
Willow’s eyes are flashing. ‘We have an air tight home with heat exchangers and filters.’
Fliss is still puzzling. ‘So where do scented candles fit into that? I mean, they have flames and smoke don’t they?’
Miranda’s rolling her eyes as she heads for the French windows. ‘Fine, I’ll be outside, don’t worry, Willow, I’ll blow every last carbon particle out to sea.’
Willow’s shaking her head. ‘So much negativity …’
I’m not up for any more of Willow’s wacky interventions, I’d rather smooth this over myself. ‘I could bring the juniper sprig off my door down if that would help?’
Willow’s eyes are closed, her nostrils are flared and she’s holding her outstretched fingers in front of her face. ‘Give me a few moments, I’ll realign.’
All I can say is, anyone who can rebalance anything with Oscar hammering the hell out of the floorboards and the scrap that erupts between Tiff, Tom and Tansy over their rock-paper-scissors game is a stronger woman than me.
When Willow opens her eyes again she’s just in time for a mad rush into the kitchen. Keef and Bill come shuffling back through, Miranda blows in with a wind gust from the French windows that’s so huge it sets the gingerbread men on the tree spinning. Then Libby comes in, her hands deep in the pockets of her pristine cream ski jacket.
‘Is anyone else feeling cold?’
Tom’s detached from his headphones during the last scuffle with Tansy and he pulls a face. ‘Keep up, Mother, the boiler’s gone out. Everyone’s freezing their arses off in here.’
‘Tom …’ Libby sounds a warning note then blinks at him. ‘So why are you sitting there in your T-shirt? For goodness sake put your coat, hoodie and hat back on.’
Miranda drags in a breath, pulls herself up to her full five feet nothing and turns a searing gaze onto Bill. ‘But the heating is on again now, you are here to tell us you’ve sorted it?’
‘Errr …’ The length of the pause, we all know what’s coming. Especially me, because at the last moment Bill catches my eye and gives the smallest shake of his head.
Keef jumps in. ‘It’s fine, we’ll call the engineer, they’ll have it mended in no time.’
Miranda’s eyes are wide in horror. ‘But if it needs mending, that means it’s BROKEN?!’
Bill blows out his cheeks and when he speaks his voice is extra low. ‘That’s correct. And you have our word on this, we’ll do our best to get it fixed as quickly as we can.’
He sounds so down and defeated, it takes every bit of my will power to stop myself from racing across the kitchen and throwing my arms round him. Which is a totally stupid reaction that would be completely counter productive and probably cause complete chaos due to the kids erupting and Bill being mortified. It would be way more helpful to do something practical like phone the engineer and tell him to get his butt round here ASAP. Offer a mahoosive bribe or two. Some gin. A free stag party. A Range Rover or something like that. Ambie’s so loaded I’m sure he’s got them coming out of his ears.
And I suppose we’re all silently asking ourselves the same question – when a boiler crashes this close to Christmas, what are the chances of getting it repaired before the New Year? Even with the heat from the Aga the warmth is seeping away from the kitchen. If the heating stops belting out, every other room in the castle will be completely inhospitable within a few hours, if it isn’t already.
Libby narrows her eyes and as she pats down her hair and turns to Bill her voice is calm and measured, but very steely. ‘So, what do you suggest we do next?’
I just know. When she moves this on, it’ll be to insist he finds us suitable alternative accommodation. And I also know Bill’s got no money, that we are his last-ditch attempt to stay afloat. If he has to fund a hotel for twenty people over Christmas, it’ll ruin him.
I’m leaning back in my chair, I know they’re all looking at me, but for once I don’t care. In fact, that’s exactly what I want them to do. I take a deep breath, make myself sound super-upbeat, and fire.
‘Hey, this is Cockle Shell Castle, we’re #TeamChristmas!’ Jeez knows where that came from, but I simply know I have to head Libby off and fast. ‘What I suggest is while you take everyone out for the morning, Libby, we’ll get the fires roaring in the family rooms. And when it’s warm and toasty you can all come back, and everyone can hunker down. We’ll put on our Christmas onesies, roast chestnuts, snuggle under our duvets, eat lashings of delicious home made pizza by the fire and have a mahoosive, record breaking Christmas film-athon.’
If my mouth’s still hanging open, it’s because I’m staggered at what came out there; I haven’t winged it like that for so long, and there were details and everything. I mean, onesies … records … chestnuts? How did I think of throwing them in? I didn’t mean to do this, I seriously doubt I would have done if Libby hadn’t had Bill’s back rammed hard up against the wall. I used to be gutsy, always diving in with my ideas at meetings, being inspiring, geeing up our work team. But this last year I’ve buried myself as far under the table as I could and said nothing. There’s a part of me punching the air in my head because it feels so good to have come out of hiding and be doing it again.
‘Pizza …?’ It’s Willow. ‘I take it that will be gluten free?’
Abso – bloody – lutely. ‘Of course.’
Fliss is beaming. ‘Watching The Holiday in the glow from the fire? That’s it, I’m in.’
Tiff’s eyes are shining. ‘Will it last all night, like a giant castle sleepover?’
I’m nodding madly. ‘Why not?’
Tansy’s jumped up. ‘And go all the way into tomorrow?’
I laugh. ‘So long as there’s a woman standing … it won’t have ended.’ I have no idea where the hell we’re going to get all the films from when we can’t stream them, and then I have a brainwave. ‘Everybody bring your favourite DVDs, we’ll vote on what to watch.’
Twenty-four hours, we might have to have some repeats. But so long as it gets Libby off Bill’s back, we’ll make up the rest as we go along. And in the meantime we’ll cross everything that we can find an engineer who can get the heating fired up again. Although for now, with this fun afternoon and evening ahead of us, the heating is the last thing anyone’s thinking about.
26.
Dashing all the way …
A crisis at Cockle Shell Castle was never going to happen quietly. However much trouble the rest of us have with Cornish communications, Keef and his mates manage fine. Who knows what secret signalling system they use, but as I wave off Fliss, Libby, Willow and the kids not long later, the silver surfies are already rolling in, heading for toast in the kitchen.
Milo was totally determined to join Miranda and Ambie for a morning in the hot tub, but I saved him from himself and sent him off to Falmouth instead to buy chestnut supplies. Between us, we could have sourced them closer, but this way we’re spared the sight of him playing gooseberry between Ambie and Miranda in his (newly purchased) swimmers and Santa hat. Someone should tell him, forcing them apart is never going to work. The more he disapproves and tells them not to, the more determined they’ll be to stay together.
When I first suggested staying home I assumed I’d be personally throwing on logs and building huge versions of the fires we usually have. But after a second breakfast listening to reminiscences about big wave wipe outs and admiring the pineapple print on Keef’s new-to-him surfie joggers, Rip and Brian head off to man the fireplaces. Then while Bede, Taj and Slater ferry massive quantities of wood across from the wood store beyond the coach house, I go into the pantry room to sort out today’s first supermarket delivery.
Willow might be appalled by the gender politics, but for once it makes sense. She and Libby have a strict system and even if I mostly avoid cooking I know where they like things put away. Better still, it means that when the engineer arrives and Bill and Keef show him into the boiler room further along the corridor, I’m on hand to listen in. Not that it does me much go
od. He’s there for all of two seconds and three bangs, then he lets out a long whistle, marches off to his van, and drives away again. Then another two loads of shopping arrive and for the next couple of hours I keep warm stacking the fridges.
By the time I’m done, the heap of logs outside by the hot tub is huge. As I wander through to the main part of the castle I can see my breath in the hallway, but when I open the door to the family room I’m met by a wall of warmth and Miranda’s shrieks of laughter at some story Keef’s telling her.
Lighting the open fires really brought these rooms to life before, but now they’re so much bigger the fires are making the heart of the castle beat even more strongly. The firelight’s glow brings a warmth to the rooms that’s about more than just the heat. And with the rainbow Christmas trees, the fairy lights around the windows and in glass jars on the coffee tables, and Miranda’s huge pots of pine branches, it’s all so wonderfully sparkly and Christmassy. The leather and velvet chairs by the fireside look so inviting I have to stop myself sitting straight down in them.
‘Not in the hot tub, Miranda?’ I’m smiling, because laughing helplessly is so much more like the Miranda I know than the tetchy, argumentative one we’ve seen the last week.
She eases open her scarf, wiggles her eyebrows and waves her tobacco. ‘I popped out for a ciggy, bumped into Keef, and one thing led to another.’
Keef’s face cracks into a beam. ‘She’s been admiring my motor home, and I’ve been extolling the virtues of a wild heart, the freedom of the open road, and being true to yourself.’ He breaks off to grin at me. ‘You can’t do that in two minutes you know.’
‘Obviously not.’ It’s taken these two all morning and then some. ‘Any news from the heating man?’
‘Who?’ It’s what everyone else is obsessing about, just not Keef. For a moment he looks bemused then it clicks. ‘Oh, that. Nothing concrete, he’s coming back tomorrow.’
‘Anyway, I’m just going to fill all the jam jars with tea lights ready for later.’ I’m holding up a big bag of candles, trying to justify why I’m here even though there’s no reason why I should feel like I’m intruding when Keef’s only standing around with a box.
There’s a rattle of the door handle, then Bill comes striding across to us. ‘Great, that’s brilliant, candles are just what we need.’ He’s carrying a box too and he’s turning to me. ‘You do realise your quick thinking saved me back there, Star-girl.’
‘You’re welcome, William.’ While I try to decide if I mind Star-girl less than Pom Pom I send him a wink across the fireplace where the flames are roaring through a truly enormous fire. ‘Who knew everyone would forget about the cold and embrace the filmfest?’ I certainly didn’t, but I’m pleased they have.
‘You totally sold it to them.’ He gives a grimace as he slides the wide box down on the coffee table. ‘Without you intervening I’d have been toast.’
I suspect he’s right, but I’m not going to rub it in. I’m thinking of the last time he came in with the boxes of decorations, how it seems more like a lifetime ago than five days. ‘You’ve been shopping, scouring the charity shops again for DVDs for later?’ Except the dull thud the box made as it hits the wood should have told me it isn’t right for them.
He shakes his head. ‘We’ve lost the heating, we had to have mistletoe, Libby’s already been chasing you on it.’ He whips off the lid of the box with a flourish.
‘Is that where you’ve been?’ He might have mistletoe, but he’s still looking stressed enough to make my heart squish for him.
He’s rubbing his hands. ‘My mate Rory, from Huntley and Handsome wine merchants and Roaring Waves brewery buys it by the lorry load to give away to his customers with their Christmas deliveries. And since we’re his most valued specialist local gin supplier, he was happy to help.’
As I lean in I get the size of the haul. ‘Wow! That’s a whole lot of Instagram mileage there.’ The box is brim full and I can’t help smiling as I finger the simple pale green leaves. As I see the clusters of pretty white berries a thought hits me. ‘I’m treading on Miranda’s toes making commercial suggestions here, but you really should make Cockle Shell Castle Christmas gin. I can already see the labels, a scattering of stars and sprigs of mistletoe …’
Miranda’s eyes are gleaming like topaz, but her naughty glint is back. ‘I can see your nudist well-being clients now, Bill, goosepimples on their bums, their heads full of motivational quotes, downing their frankincense gin cocktails on your private beach.’
Bill’s shaking his head. ‘Thanks, Ivy, your second must-do inspiration for today, I’ll definitely work on that …’
‘Anyway, back to the mistletoe.’ Before these two come to blows. ‘There’s enough to deck out an entire castle and then some.’
‘That’s a whole heap of kisses for someone.’ His lips twist as he looks down at Miranda. ‘Don’t say I never bring you anything, I hope you’re going to put it to good use.’
Miranda gives a haughty toss of her head and ignores him entirely.
Keef gives a cough and gives Miranda a hard stare. ‘Just be sure you choose the right prince to kiss, Mirry. The wrong one and you’ll be throwing your life away.’
Miranda closes her eyes and shakes her head. When she opens them again, she’s firing at me. ‘I hope you’re listening there, Ivy-leaf, whatever I once said about Bill I take it all back. Milo’s the catch around here.’ She picks up a sprig from the box and as she passes it to me she’s beaming. ‘Here, take this, run along and find him. There’s no time to lose, not now you’re looking so pretty with your lovely new hair on show.’
I’m rolling my eyes at Merwyn, but this time he just looks at me as if he’s seen it all before. ‘Sorry, Miranda, Milo’s gone out.’
Bill’s shaking his head and giving me the kind of look I just gave to Merwyn. ‘Thank Christmas for that.’
I’m making my smile as bright as I can and frantically moving this on to somewhere less awkward. ‘Great, well … so what’s in your box Keef?’
He puts it down on the table too, and pulls back the flaps. ‘DVDs for our film night.’
‘You’re coming too?’ Jeez knows why I’m surprised.
‘It’s this or the Gardening Club Christmas Disco. The guys were saying earlier, we’ve had eighties Christmas discos up to our Santa hats already this December, something new on a Saturday night will shake us up.’
‘So all of you, then?’ From the way Bill’s making throat cutting gestures at me, he’s getting totally shown up by his dad here.
Keef’s nodding. ‘Might as well make the most of the fires, in any case, you’ll need us here as stokers.’
On the up side, he has brought films. ‘We need all the DVDs we can get, so long as they aren’t too adult.’ They’ll have to get past Willow’s censorship panel.
Keef looks totally unconcerned. ‘These are kiddie ones, I came across them in the coach house earlier.’
As Keef’s eyes flash up to Bill’s face it crumples. For a moment he looks distraught, then his expression clears and he goes back to just looking beaten and knackered.
Now Keef’s wincing as he turns to Bill. ‘That is okay? I mean, you don’t mind?’
Bill’s stammering. ‘A-a-absolutely fine … b-b-brilliant … why wouldn’t it be okay? … it’s a few DVDs … why ever would I mind?’
I’m peering in, hoping to see where the problem might be. ‘Peppa Pig, ooo, and The Snowman, that’s a good one for later, Postman Pat, Olaf’s Frozen Adventure …’ As I see the reindeer on the cover I shudder and as I look up at Bill his face is drawn and three shades paler under his stubble.
The whistle he lets out is similar to the one the heating engineer did earlier. ‘And despite the reindeer you said that without faltering, Star-girl, that was brilliant.’ He’s holding his hand up. ‘High five for that?’
I lean across and hold up my hand. ‘Why not?’
But as soon as my palm collides with his I have my answer. Tingli
ng fingertips and shivers that shoot right up my arm then loop to zip up and down my spine. And not in a good way. That’s why not. I write it on my brain so I won’t get caught out again. No more high fives. And stay away from the mistletoe. And the man. End of important health and safety warning.
There’s definitely no shivers on Bill’s side, because he’s moved right on, his jaw is set square and very rigid and he’s nodding at the box. ‘If you dig deep enough you should find Frozen in there too.’
I’m straight back in, flicking through the cases and sure enough it’s there. ‘Hey, you’re right.’
Miranda taps the pointy toe of her boot and gives a cough. ‘If you’ll excuse us, we must push on.’
‘Fine.’ I’m not sure what can be so urgent, although she could be needed in the hot tub.
Keef nods. ‘We’re bringing extra blankets over from the coach house then pulling in a quick trip back to the motorhome. I promised to show Miranda the wonders of the fold out bed mechanism.’
‘Really?’ It’s my turn to wince and pull a face at Miranda. I’m not judging, just a bit shocked and horrified at the implication.
Miranda sends me a butter wouldn’t melt smile as she links arms with Keef and they head for the door again. ‘Being free as a bird doesn’t happen by itself, Ivy-star, I still have a lot to learn.’
As I’m always telling Milo, she’s a grown up, she should be able to make her own decisions. We all have to trust her and let her get on and live her life.
‘Don’t let us hold up your flying lessons.’ Bill’s shaking his head at me as they go. ‘I’ll get the big screen ready and then I’ll get the guys to give me a hand rearranging the chairs.’
I grab the Roaring Waves box and whistle Merwyn. ‘We’ll deal with the mistletoe and bring down the kids’ duvets.’ Then I have a thought. ‘You do know Milo’s not completely behind Ambie and Miranda.’
Bill sniffs. ‘Milo is a total snake in the grass, I’m pleased you agree.’
