by Lulu Taylor
‘Sorry, Mum,’ she muttered. ‘It’s just … it’s just something I really want. That’s all.’
Michelle sniffed. ‘I know, love. I’m sorry too. Maybe … well, let’s see come Christmas, shall we? Maybe things will be better then.’
7
CHRISTMAS AT THORNSIDE manor was always a lavish affair, and this one promised to be no different.
Even though she was getting too old to bounce around, Daisy came down the stairs feeling excited. There were going to be some gorgeous new treasures for her to take possession of, and it was also a proper family day here at Thornside. Although she liked it when they spent Christmas skiing at the Gstaad chalet, it was best when everyone was here, where it felt most like home with all the proper Christmassy things.
‘Happy Christmas!’ Daisy chirped as she came into the drawing room, where Sarah was already sitting on a sofa reading one of her pony books.
Sarah looked up, smiled shyly and returned a ‘Happy Christmas’ in her quiet voice, then went back to her book. She was quieter than ever, and seemed to want to shrink into herself and disappear behind her glasses and the thick fringe that fell over her brow. She had always been kind enough to Daisy, but seemed happiest when alone with her horses. Daddy had bought her two – a grey mare called Mindy and a white pony called Bobo – and they were kept at the stables of an adjoining farm. Most days in the holidays, Sarah was to be seen pulling on jodhpurs, riding boots and a thick jumper, grabbing her riding hat and heading off to be with her beloved horses. She would spend all day at the stables: cleaning, mucking out, grooming the horses, caring for the tack and exercising Mindy and Bobo. She had taken Daisy out on Mindy once, but Daisy had been frightened to find herself so high up with only the reins to hold on to, and Mindy hadn’t helped by galloping off with her when an irresistible open field had presented itself. When Daisy had finally been able to pull the mare up, she had slid to the ground, trembling, promising herself she would never get on a horse again.
Without a love of horses to bond them, Daisy and her half-sister had always remained a little distant from one another, and that had only increased as they grew older. Perhaps, Daisy thought, it was because it was so obvious that she was Daddy’s favourite. Nevertheless, she was sure Sarah felt some affection for her.
She wondered if her sister had noticed her new outfit. Daisy and her best friends had been allowed to go shopping in Harvey Nichols, flitting around the upstairs floors where the cool stuff for teenagers was on display, and she’d bought an amazing Moschino tunic dress which she wore with a loose chain belt slung round her hips, and some Lanvin flats. Last year she’d been done up like a kid in a smocked floral number, but now she felt grownup and trendy – a lot more so than Sarah, who despite being nearly sixteen was in a plain skirt, high-necked blouse and a red jumper, like some kind of old biddy.
Daisy looked over at the fireplace where five fat Christmas stockings were propped up. Here at Thornside, stockings appeared at the ends of beds but were kept like vast overstuffed sausages to be opened when the family were together. Big presents would be given later after lunch, when they all gathered in the great hallway where the twenty-foot Norwegian spruce reached up almost to the second floor.
‘Where’s Will?’ she asked, looking about for her half-brother.
‘Upstairs of course,’ replied Sarah. Will was seventeen now and in the sixth form at Winchester. He had become even more silent and intense, interested only in the computer he had in his room, and his music, to which he was almost obsessionally devoted. He had lately moved to a big space in the attics which had been soundproofed and laid out with state-of-the-art electronics, where he could play his music and hunch over his computer for hours on end without bothering anyone. Even though Daddy had arranged the new rooms for Will, he seemed to resent the hours his son spent there, and was always ordering him downstairs to spend time with the family. Will just sat there in furious silence, clearly longing to be back upstairs again.
When he was around, Daisy found herself in awe of him. He had always been a mysterious character, five years older and hardly caring about her existence. Her first memories of him were of a freckly, messy-haired boy, who was always off on private adventures in which she could have no part. Some strange physical transformation had overtaken her half-brother since she had last seen him. He was much taller than before, having shot up over a foot to a towering six foot three inches, and skinnier, as though he had depleted his fat stores with the rapid growth. He was strong, though; she could see well-formed muscles on his arms and across his chest and shoulders as a result of the rowing he did. His hair had darkened from bright ginger to a chestnut auburn, and in certain lights Daisy could see golden glints on his chin and cheeks where red-gold stubble was breaking through the skin with its light dusting of freckles. Sarah had the same hair colour, though hers was long, pulled back into a thick chestnut ponytail that curled down her back like a river.
Daisy was never quite certain that Will even liked her. He sometimes shot her looks of such coldness and near resentment that she felt he must hate her – but then, a few minutes later, he would speak to her in a perfectly friendly way and she would wonder if she had imagined those other feelings of his.
The room filled with an unmistakable presence as Daddy came in, imposing in his navy blue velvet jacket and red silk bow tie, a pair of monogrammed slippers from Church’s peeping out at the bottom of his dark trousers. ‘Happy Christmas!’ he boomed, and opened his arms. The girls ran to him, covering his smooth face with kisses. He laughed and then frowned. ‘Where’s Julia?’ he asked gruffly. ‘And that rascal Will?’
‘Here’s Mummy!’ said Daisy, seeing her mother coming down the stairs. She noted with relief that Julia looked composed and elegant in a red Dior shift dress. Her fair hair was shiny, brushed into the usual sharp bob framing her delicate, heart-shaped face. She was thin to the point of bony but Daddy was proud of his wife’s aristocratic elegance and slender proportions. ‘I can’t stand women who turn into plump milch cows!’ he would sometimes bellow. ‘Now, your mother, Sarah … that’s a woman who didn’t care and who turned to fat as a result.’ Sarah would blush scarlet and seem to sink back into herself, as though painfully aware of her own puppy fat.
Julia Dangerfield moved delicately on her kitten heels across the flagstoned hall, her blue eyes unsmiling despite the curve to her scarlet lips. ‘Merry Christmas, everyone,’ she said lightly as she offered her cheek to Daddy for a kiss.
‘Where’s that boy?’ he growled. ‘He’s driving me to the limits of my patience.’
‘He’s just a teenager,’ Julia said in a reasonable tone. ‘You must give him a little leeway.’
‘I’ve never given anyone leeway in my life!’ declared Daddy loudly, puffing out his huge chest. ‘And I’m not about to start with some angst-ridden adolescent!’
Julia’s jaw seemed to set and there was the faintest lift of her eyebrows and a small sigh. She looked over at the girls. ‘Happy Christmas, Daisy … Sarah.’ They went obediently to kiss her, Daisy breathing in the familiar and rather intoxicating scent of Fracas, which her mother always wore.
‘Sarah,’ commanded Daddy, ‘go upstairs and get your brother. Tell him he’d better come here now or there’s going to be merry hell to pay.’
Sarah went at once, running up the stairs.
‘I won’t have that boy spoil Christmas,’ growled Daddy. ‘Where’s the bloody champagne?’ He frowned. ‘Drake knows we’re here, doesn’t he? Julia, ring the bell.’
Things had to go exactly as Daddy wanted them or he would be swift to show his anger. Already Daisy began to feel nervous at the way his face was darkening. Once the storm started, it could quickly worsen and then anything might happen.
Julia pressed the button by the fireplace and an instant later the butler was there, outwardly calm but, Daisy could tell, a little flustered. He was carrying a tray of crystal flutes and an ice bucket containing a bottle of vintage Dom Perignon, i
ts neck wrapped in a pure white linen napkin.
‘Sir,’ Drake murmured as he came in, placed the tray on a small table and prepared to open the bottle. ‘Merry Christmas, sir.’
‘Sod your Merry Christmas!’ snapped Daddy. ‘Having a lie-in, were you? Come on, man, get on with it.’
Drake nodded politely and untwisted the wire around the neck of the bottle. A second later, he had removed the cork with the faintest popping sound and was topping up the glasses with the fizzing liquid. The girls were given a drink as well – half a glass for Sarah and Daisy, while a full flute waited for Will.
‘M’lady,’ Drake murmured, placing a glass by Julia’s side. She had sat down on one of the gilded Louis XVI chairs by the fireplace and was staring into the flames that flickered in the grate.
There was the sound of footsteps and then Will and Sarah came into the room.
‘About bloody time!’ said Daddy. ‘Come on, boy, get your glass … everyone, get your champagne.’ When they were all ready, Daddy made the traditional Christmas toast – ‘To the ongoing, eternal success of the Dangerfields, and to my father who gave us all the blessings we enjoy!’ – and they all drank.
The cold bubbles prickled Daisy’s tongue. She was sure she’d learn to enjoy champagne eventually – after all, everyone else seemed to love it – and she liked the slightly fuzzy feeling it gave her.
‘And now,’ Daddy said, happier once the day was back on track and all were present and correct, ‘stockings.’
The bulging stockings were handed out and they each took a turn to extract a present and open it. As usual, Daddy had spoiled them all. Julia unwrapped her diamond-encrusted Cartier watch with raised eyebrows and a smile. Among many other trinkets, Sarah received a Gucci purse and a pair of diamond earrings, Will a Dunhill wallet and an Armani belt, and Daisy a necklace of pure pink pearls and a beautiful antique Fabergé egg to add to the collection that her father had been building for her since she was little. This one was set in turquoise enamel and gold, and opened to reveal a golden couple, the woman in a ballgown, the man in tails, dancing on a miniature turntable while a Viennese waltz chimed away from somewhere inside.
‘It’s beautiful, Daddy!’ she said with a beaming smile, breathless with excitement. ‘Thank you.’ She rushed over and kissed him. ‘I love it so much.’
He smiled, gratified. ‘These are just little things. Your big presents are waiting for later.’
‘Drake!’ said Julia, holding out her glass. The butler came over obediently and poured in more champagne. She had put the watch on and it glittered around her wrist.
Daddy watched, then said sharply, ‘That will be all, Drake.’
The butler bowed. ‘Very good, sir. Lunch will be served at one o’clock precisely.’
‘See to it that it is.’ Once Drake had gone, Daddy turned to his wife and said, ‘Don’t start, Julia.’
‘What do you mean?’ She smiled sweetly. ‘It’s tradition to have champagne on Christmas Day, isn’t it? And I know how you like things done properly.’
He stared at her, his dark eyes glittering with anger, but made an effort to control himself. ‘Let’s just try to be a happy family today, shall we? For one day in the year.’
Daisy heard a snort and turned to look at her half-brother. Will was sitting hunched on the sofa, his expensive presents lying discarded on the floor next to him, as though the costly designer leather meant nothing at all.
‘What is it?’ Daddy said sharply.
Will shrugged. ‘Nothing.’ But the expression in his eyes and the petulant thrust of his lower lip said everything.
Why is he so angry? Daisy wondered. When Daddy’s so good to us? She knew that it must be horrible to have your parents not live together, to have your father marry again to someone who was not your mother, but surely Will couldn’t remember a time when things had been any different? And, after all, he spent just as much time with his mother as with his father, when he wasn’t at school …
‘Be careful, boy,’ Daddy said in a menacing voice. ‘I’ve had just about as much of you as I can take. Any more attitude from you, and the Ferrari that’s waiting outside is going straight back.’
A scowl creased Will’s face and his green eyes sparked, but he said nothing.
‘Mustn’t make Daddy cross!’ Julia said gaily. ‘We all know what happens when Daddy gets cross!’ She tipped back her head and emptied the contents of her champagne glass.
‘I warned you, Julia,’ Daddy said, his voice low. Daisy shivered. Julia got up and walked to the drinks tray. She picked up a bottle of vodka and poured herself a large tumblerful. Then she turned and smiled at her husband.
‘I know, darling,’ she said, her eyes icy. ‘I know it very well.’
Daisy stared at them both, frightened. Surely they weren’t going to start one of their rows today, were they? She felt torn between her parents. She loved her mother but had never felt from her the warmth and adoration she received from her father, and as a result was far more likely to run to her daddy for hugs and kisses. It was as though there was an invisible force field around Julia that kept everyone, even her daughter, away from her.
Daddy seemed to be working hard to control himself. He said through gritted teeth, ‘Please, let’s try and get through today without any tantrums or bad behaviour.’
Will got up from the sofa. ‘Come on, Sarah,’ he said, his voice startling Daisy with its deep masculine timbre.
‘Where are you going?’ demanded his father, frowning.
‘To call Mum. She’s on her own today, remember? We’re going to wish her a Happy Christmas.’ He stalked out of the room, Sarah following timidly behind.
Daddy watched them go, then beckoned Daisy over. ‘Come on, Princess. Bring that egg of yours, I want to see it up close.’
By the time Will and Sarah had returned from their long phone call with their mother, Julia had made several more trips to the drinks table and it was getting harder to ignore the evidence of her condition. She’d begun to slur her words and her usual elegant walk was marred by swaying and stumbling.
Daisy knew that Daddy was trying to ignore it, but she could also tell by the stiffness of his shoulders and the set line of his mouth that he was growing more and more furious.
Drake appeared and announced that lunch was served, and they went through to the dining room which was laid out in the Christmas best: gleaming silver, fine linen, heavy crystal, and long tapering candles burning in the candelabra. Crackers from Asprey, each containing a solid silver trinket, sat by every plate. A vintage Sancerre was chilling in the giant silver ice-filled cooler while a decanter containing Château Haute Brion ’82 stood to breathe on the cabinet, waiting to accompany the main course. Three maids in black uniforms stood with their backs against the wall, watching the family take their places at the table and waiting for Drake to give them the nod.
Daisy settled herself into her chair, hoping she might be allowed to taste a little of the wine, although she wouldn’t be too unhappy with a glass of fizzy cola.
The sight of the table in all its finery seemed to cheer up her father, and when the staff began to bring in the food – plates of Scottish smoked salmon with a prawn and salmon mousse, and tiny poached quails’ eggs on miniature circles of rye bread, dripping in hollandaise – he seemed happier.
‘Happy Christmas, everyone!’ he said, when they had been served. ‘You may begin.’ He piled up a forkful of salmon as Drake moved discreetly about, filling up glasses. ‘How was your mother?’ he asked, looking at Will as he shovelled food into his mouth.
Daisy sliced through the soft pink flesh of the salmon and put it in her mouth, savouring the sweet, smoky flavour.
‘She was fine,’ Sarah said quickly.
‘I asked your brother. Can’t he speak for himself? He’s said precious little today.’ Daddy smiled coldly.
‘Mum is all right, considering she’s spending Christmas on her own without us,’ retorted Will, flushing.
> Daddy chewed slowly. When he’d finished, he said, ‘Your place is here with me. You spend plenty of time with your mother. Today, she is at liberty to make her own arrangements.’
Will glowered at his father but said nothing.
‘I’ve had enough of this ridiculous side-taking,’ Daddy announced, his eyes hardening. ‘You are my son and daughter – you are both Dangerfields.’ He put down his cutlery. ‘I’ve decided. From now on, you will spend the majority of your time here at Thornside. Your mother is exerting too much influence on you, that’s clear. You’re both becoming spoiled, bolshie little monsters.’
Sarah’s face went bright red and her eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip and stared hard at her plate, letting her chestnut hair fall in front of her face to hide it from her father.
‘You can’t do that,’ burst out Will, furious. ‘We’re not babies! It’s up to us how we spend our time and where we live!’
‘I don’t think so,’ said his father in a voice of steel. ‘You will do as you’re told or regret it.’
Daisy felt a nasty shiver run down her spine. Daddy had never spoken to her like this. She didn’t know what she would do if he did.
‘Leave the poor little fuckers alone,’ said Julia suddenly from her end of the table. She lifted her glass to her mouth and took a great gulp of the white wine Drake had just poured her.
Daddy looked at his wife. ‘What did you say?’
‘You heard me! Why don’t you take a break from ruining everyone’s lives today? It’s fucking Christmas after all!’
‘Julia, control yourself,’ hissed Daddy, his eyes fierce.
She threw back her head and laughed. ‘Sorry, am I being naughty? Everyone must behave, mustn’t they? We all know what the punishment is for being bad.’
