Emma, standing at the window of her bedroom, was momentarily transfixed as she gazed down at her gardens. The snow and the ice had created the most magical effect, enveloping the land in a strange white silence, an overwhelming stillness that seemed like a palpable thing to her. But despite the breathtaking beauty spread before her, Emma knew that beyond the great iron gates of her house, the roads and country lanes were dangerous, very treacherous in this kind of weather.
As she turned away and walked through into the upstairs parlour, she could not help but worry, thinking of her family and friends who were currently driving on those roads. All were courageously braving the icy conditions in order to spend this special evening with her. It had been a tradition for many years, and none of them wanted to miss it. She hoped each one of them would arrive safely and without any mishaps.
Emma already had a full house.
Once they were back in Yorkshire, Paula had lost no time in moving her family into Pennistone Royal. Jim, the babies, the nanny and the male nurse were already ensconced. Emily had brought Amanda and Francesca home from Harrogate College earlier in the week. David and Daisy had taken the train from London yesterday, accompanied by Alexander and his fiancée, Maggie Reynolds. Edwina and Anthony had flown into Manchester Airport from Dublin that morning, had reached the ancient house in time for a late lunch.
Pausing at her desk, Emma picked up the guest list, scanned it quickly. Her sons and their wives had been invited, but she was quite certain they would not come. Well, it did not matter any more. She was adjusted to their absence from her life. Kit and Robin would avoid her again. She knew why. They were as guilty as hell about their treachery towards her. Elizabeth was not coming either, was remaining in Paris with Marc Deboyne, but at least her daughter had been gracious when she had phoned to decline and to wish her a happy Christmas. I hope this is the last husband she’s going to have, Emma thought, her glance travelling on down the list.
Her eyes rested briefly on Jonathan’s name. He had accepted. So had Sarah. They were driving over from Bramhope together. She could not help wondering about their current chumminess. Were they up to something? Now, Emma Harte, no bad thoughts tonight, she cautioned herself. It instantly struck her that she was unutterably weary of intrigue. It had dogged her all of her life. She was getting too old to pick up the sword again.
A thoughtful look settled on her face as she remained standing at the desk, clutching the guest list. She was eighty. She had paid her dues long ago. Her time was now far too precious to indulge in battles. Let them get on with it, she muttered. As I shall get on with my life – what’s left of it. All I want is to have peace and quiet and to be with my dear old friend. We’ll march on together into the future, Blackie and I…a couple of old war horses. She felt as if a great burden had been lifted as she suddenly acknowledged that she had abdicated eight months ago. She was out of the fray. She was determined to stay out.
Emma finished perusing the list. Blackie, who was spending Christmas with Bryan and Geraldine in Wetherby, was due to arrive with them and Miranda shortly. The entire Kallinski clan had also promised to come early. The Hartes would be out in full force tonight. Randolph, too, had a house full, since his mother, Charlotte, and his Aunt Natalie, were staying at Allington Hall with Sally, Vivienne and himself. Winston was a self-invited guest at Pennistone Royal, had walked in at four o’clock with his suitcase and three large shopping bags top-heavy with gifts. Only Philip and Shane are missing, Emma murmured to herself, putting down the list. But perhaps next year they will be here. We’ll all be together. Then the three clans will really be complete.
The clock struck six.
The chimes roused her from her meandering thoughts. She gazed down at the one remaining present that lay on the desk. Earlier all of the others had been taken downstairs to the Stone Hall to be placed under the tree. Sitting down, Emma thought for a moment, then inscribed the card carefully.
There was a knock on the door. ‘Cooee, Gran, it’s me,’ Emily called, floating in on a cloud of perfume.
Emma lifted her head, smiled at her granddaughter. ‘And don’t you look lovely!’ she exclaimed, scrutinizing her intently. ‘That’s the dress tartan of the Seaforth Highlanders,’ Emma remarked, referring to the long taffeta skirt Emily wore, immediately recognizing the plaid. ‘My father’s old regiment, and Joe’s and Blackie’s when they were in the First World War. It certainly looks smart with your white silk shirt.’
‘Yes, I thought so too.’ Emily planted a kiss on Emma’s cheek, said quickly, ‘You seemed a bit surprised when Winston arrived this afternoon. I could have sworn I’d told you he was coming to stay.’
‘No, you didn’t. But that’s all right.’ Sitting back, Emma pursed her lips, gave Emily a pointed look. ‘I expect it’s too much to ask you to behave yourselves, but please, do be discreet if you’re bedroom hopping.’
Emily’s face flushed. ‘How can you think a thing like that, Grandma!’
‘Because I was young once, believe it or not, and I know what it’s like to be in love. But be careful, dear. After all, we do have a lot of house guests. I wouldn’t want your reputation besmirched.’
‘In this family! Good God, nobody can afford to throw any stones –’ Emily stopped. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, Grandma.’
‘Don’t apologize for speaking the truth, Emily. But remember what I’ve just said.’
Nodding and looking relieved, Emily drifted over to the fireplace, stood observing her grandmother. ‘You should always wear dark green velvet. It’s very becoming on you, especially with all your emeralds.’
‘Goodness me, Emily, you make it sound as if they’re dripping from every pore. I’m only wearing Paul’s ring and earrings and Blackie’s little bow. But thank you for the compliment, and tell me, what’s happening downstairs?’
‘Amanda and Francesca are finishing trimming the tree, at least the top half which I started earlier. Little monkeys, they haven’t helped me one bit today. All they’ve done is loll around in their room, listening to the Beatles and shrieking their heads off, or alternately swooning and being silly. I routed them out an hour ago and set them to work.’
‘Good for you. I’m going to have to take those two in hand during the holidays, put my foot down. There has to be a limit on the time they spend listening to those records. Apart from anything else, the racket was deafening this afternoon. Anyone else down yet?’
‘Aunty Daisy, looking gorgeous in a red silk trouser suit and masses of rubies and diamonds –’
‘Why do you always exaggerate?’ Emma shook her head, faintly reprimanding, but her eyes were fond. ‘She doesn’t have masses of rubies and diamonds, to my knowledge.’
‘Well, a pair of beautiful earrings,’ Emily admitted, wrinkling her nose. ‘She was helping to set up the bar. Jim’s there, in the new wheelchair you got for him, having a drink and –’
‘He’s started a bit early, hasn’t he?’ Emma exclaimed, a silver brow lifting in surprise.
‘What do you mean started early? He hasn’t stopped since lunch.’
Emma was dismayed. ‘Ought he to be drinking?’ she asked. ‘He’s on pain killers – so Paula told me. That combination can be awfully dangerous.’ Her eyes grew flinty with a mixture of concern and annoyance.
Emily nodded. ‘I mentioned that to him a few minutes ago, so don’t you say anything. He told me to mind my own business. He’s awfully grouchy, I don’t envy Paula one bit.’
‘I’ve noticed his moodiness. Still, we have to make allowances, I suppose. Has Paula come home from the store yet?’
‘No, but she should be here any minute.’
‘Oh dear, the roads are so bad tonight…’ Emma’s voice faltered.
‘Don’t fret, Gran, she’s a careful driver. Besides, she went over to the Harrogate store this afternoon. However, knowing Paula she’ll probably stay until closing time. But at least her driving time has been cut in half.’
‘I’ll rest ea
sier once she gets here. Well, continue, who else has made an appearance?’
‘Maggie. She’s sorting the Christmas tree decorations, helping the girls. Alexander and Uncle David are hanging mistletoe. Hilda and Joe are preparing the refectory table for the buffet, and Winston’s stacking gifts under the tree.’ Emily smirked. ‘Oh yes, and Aunt Edwina is making herself useful for once – she’s instructing Winston exactly how to arrange the packages for the best effect. As if it mattered.’
‘At least she’s talking to a Harte for a change. That’s certainly a step in the right direction.’ Emma motioned to Emily. ‘Come here, dear, I want to show you something.’
As Emily joined her, Emma lifted the lid of an old leather jewellery case and then handed it to her granddaughter.
Emily gasped, staring down at the beautiful diamond necklace lying on the dark red velvet. It was a glittering lacy web of brilliant, perfectly cut and mounted stones. The diamonds had such fire, such life, such matchless beauty, Emily gasped again. ‘This is extraordinary, Grandma, and obviously very old. Where did it come from? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it.’
‘No, you haven’t, because I never have. I haven’t even tried it on since I’ve owned it.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Emily said, her eyes perplexed.
‘I’ve never wanted to wear it, and I only bought it when it was auctioned because – well, it was a sort of symbol to me. It represented everything I never had when I was a young girl – when I was a maid at Fairley Hall.’ Emma took the case back from Emily, lifted out the necklace, held it up to the light. ‘Yes, it’s superb. Superb. It belonged to Adele Fairley, Jim’s great-grandmother. I can still recall the night of a big dinner when I helped Adele to dress, fastened this around her throat. I was very bitter that night. The necklace, you see, represented the grinding toil and drudgery of the villagers, and my father, my brother Frank, and I myself.’ Emma shook her head. ‘When the Fairleys went down the drain, after Adam died, Gerald put this up for sale.’ Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘I outbid everyone,’ she explained and placed the necklace in its case.
Emily said, ‘But why have you never worn it, Grandy?’
‘Because it was suddenly meaningless to me once I owned it…I preferred the things which had been given to me with love, by those who loved me.’
‘What are you going to do with it?’ Emily eyed the fancy wrapping paper and silver ribbon on the desk. ‘Oh I know! You’re going to give it to Paula because she’s married to Jim.’
‘No, not Paula.’
‘Then who?’
‘Edwina.’
‘Edwina. Why her? She’s always so awful to you!’
‘So what. And just because she behaves badly doesn’t mean I have to do the same. Anyway throughout my life I’ve tried to rise above that sort of thing. Always remember that it is far better to be gracious in difficult situations, Emily, than to sink to the levels of others. Anyway, Paula wouldn’t want this. She might bear the name of Fairley, but I don’t believe she considers herself to be one, no, not at all. On the other hand, Edwina does. The Fairley name is important to her, and I think she, above everyone in the family, would appreciate owning this and –’
‘But Gran,’ Emily began.
Emma held up her hand. ‘Edwina was denied her birthright because she was illegitimate, and I know how much the circumstances of her birth troubled her, perhaps still do. I feel it is only proper that she has something that belonged to them – this kind of family heirloom. I don’t want it, since it has no meaning for me. Neither am I trying to ingratiate myself with her, or redeem myself in her eyes. I simply want to give it to her, and that’s all there is to it. She will enjoy wearing it, of that I feel sure. Now, perhaps you would be kind enough to wrap it for me, Emily.’
‘Of course I will. May I sit at the desk? It’s easier to work there.’
‘Yes.’ Emma rose, walked across to the fireplace, stood with her back to it.
Emily glanced at the necklace again, closed the case, began to wrap it, thinking what an extraordinary woman her grandmother was. There was no one like her in the whole world. She was so generous and so very forgiving. Damn Edwina, she thought. I wish she would make just one gesture of love towards Gran. That would make me feel better.
There was a tap on the door. It opened and Paula looked in, exclaimed, ‘Hello, you two! I’m frightfully late, I’m afraid. The Harrogate store was mobbed all day, like bedlam when we closed. Then the roads were ghastly. See you both in a while. I must pop in on the babies and Nora before I change.’
‘Thank heaven you got here safely,’ Emma was filled with relief at the sight of Paula’s smiling face. ‘And take your time, dear. Nobody’s going anywhere.’
‘I will.’ Paula closed the door softly.
Emma said to Emily, ‘Once you finish wrapping the necklace I think we’d better go downstairs. The O’Neills and the Kallinskis will be arriving any moment.’
‘It’s finished.’ Emily clipped off the end of the silver ribbon, sat back to admire her handiwork. She lifted her dancing green eyes, focused them on her grandmother. ‘I bet old Edwina has a heart attack when she opens this later, Gran!’ she said, grinning mischievously.
‘Really, Emily, sometimes –’ Emma shook her head, tried to look disapproving without much success.
The Stone Hall at Pennistone Royal derived its name from the local grey stone which had been used throughout – on the ceiling, the walls, the floor and the fireplace façade. But it was more than an entrance hall, had the overtones of a huge sitting room with its handsome Jacobean and Tudor furniture which partially underscored the architecture of the house.
Dark wood beams criss-crossed the stone ceiling, introduced a touch of warmth, as did the faded Aubusson carpets on the floor, the antique tapestries and oil paintings on the walls. The baronial overtones were further diminished by the blaze of rosy light from the chandelier and wall sconces, and the huge fire crackling up the chimney back. Pots of yellow, pink and purple chrysanthemums and deep-orange amaryllis sparked some of the wood surfaces, and tall brass urns filled with dark green holly, bright with red berries, graced several corners.
But taking pride of place and dominating the hall tonight was a giant Christmas tree. This was nine feet tall, with wide spreading branches and it towered up to touch the edge of the minstrels’ gallery at the far end of the hall.
Emma, descending the staircase with Emily, paused halfway, stood for a moment admiring the scene. ‘Oh, doesn’t it look festive!’ she cried. Not waiting for a response, she hurried down, glided across the floor to join the throng of family members, her eyes sparkling, her face wreathed in smiles.
‘Hello, everyone,’ she said. ‘And well done. You’ve obviously worked hard to make the hall look beautiful tonight. Thank you.’
They came to greet her in turn, kissed her, told her she looked wonderful. Winston took the gift she handed him and put it under the tree. Jim, who had trouble manœuvring the wheelchair, could only wave.
Emma hurried over to him, rested her hand on his good shoulder, squeezed it, bent to kiss him. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, her concern for his well being apparent in her expression.
‘Bloody awful, but I’ll survive.’ He gazed up at her through his light silvery eyes, then grimaced. ‘What a rotten way to spend Christmas.’
‘Yes, I know, dear, and you must be terribly uncomfortable. Can I get you anything?’
‘No, thanks. Where’s Paula? She should be home by now. It’s almost six-thirty.’ His voice was unexpectedly querulous, and he scowled at Emma, his mouth twisting into an angry line which he could not manage to conceal. Before she had a chance to answer, he exclaimed, ‘I don’t know why she had to go to the store today. It’s ridiculous the way she works, and it is Christmas Eve. She ought to be here with her family. The babies need her, and furthermore, so do I – crippled as I am in this way. I think she’s inconsiderate.’
Emma drew back, amaze
d at his words, his nasty tone, his sudden burst of petulance. She knew he was not feeling well, but she could not help thinking that he was overdoing it a bit. She said softly, ‘It’s because it is Christmas that she had to be at the stores today, Jim. You know this is her busiest period.’
‘She should have left at noon,’ he groused, ‘come home to me. After all, the circumstances are a little exceptional, wouldn’t you say?’
Emma bit back a sharp retort, knowing she must excuse him, blame his irascibility and immaturity on his condition. She said, more quietly than before, ‘I was never an absentee landlord and I doubt that Paula will ever be one either. And as a matter of fact, she just got back. She’ll be down in a few minutes. She’s changing into a cocktail dress. I see you have a drink and your cigarettes, Jim, so if you’ll excuse me I’ll go and deal with those two rowdy teenagers.’
Hurrying over to the tree, where Amanda and Francesca stood on two stepladders quarrelling furiously, Emma exclaimed, ‘Now, girls, stop that and come down. At once, do you hear!’
‘Yes, Grandma,’ Amanda said dutifully, quickly doing as she was bidden.
Francesca lingered. She placed a silver bell on the tip of a branch, craning her neck to study it.
Amanda, having reached the bottom of the ladder, took a step back, watching her sister. She shrieked, ‘Not there, you clot! It’s right next to a silver icicle. You need more colour on that branch. Put the red star you’re holding in that spot instead of the bell.’
‘Go to hell!’ Francesca retorted. ‘I’m sick of you tonight. You’re a dimwit. And far too bossy.’
‘That’s enough!’ Emma snapped. ‘Get down, Francesca, and immediately. Otherwise you’ll spend this evening in your room.’
‘Yes, Grandy,’ Francesca mumbled, clattering down the stepladder to join her sister who was standing next to Emma.
‘Now upstairs, both of you.’ Emma gave them a disapproving glance. ‘You look like a couple of street urchins. I want you out of those disgusting jeans and grimy shirts and into more suitable clothes. Instantly. And wash your faces and brush your hair. I’ve never seen you both in such an appalling state. And please don’t dress alike. I’m getting sick and tired of this twin-sister act of yours. You’re like a music hall turn.’
Hold the Dream Page 61
