Chapter 21
Loathe at First Sight
I have heard nothing from N since my ultimatum and I am missing him dreadfully. The others talk of little except the Victory celebrations tomorrow but though I am so very glad this awful war is over, I cannot wholeheartedly lose myself in the excitement of it all as they do.
May, 1945
When I opened the back door the snow was still falling in big, fluffy flakes, and had banked up so I had to wade through it practically up to the top of my wellingtons.
Merlin turned around almost immediately and asked to go back in, which I couldn’t blame him for in the least, even if I would have preferred his company.
I don’t think I’d quite appreciated how pitch black it would be out there without the yard lights on and the moon hidden behind clouds. The wind was clanking something against the metal gate, but otherwise the snow seemed to have a deadening effect on the usual country night noises. It’s lucky I’m not of a nervous disposition.
I switched on my torch and trudged across to the barn, with its sweet smell of hay and warm horse. Nutkin was hanging his head drowsily and barely flickered his ears at me when I shone the beam at him, but I couldn’t see Lady at first. This threw me into a panic until I found her lying down very comfortably in the warm straw, with Billy next to her.
I went quietly out again and bolted the door, then made my way across to the generator room and into the silent darkness. It was just as cold in there as it was outside, since the back wall was slatted for ventilation.
It all looked subtly different in the dim light but, according to Henry, all I had to do was flick a couple of switches to turn the generator on manually — and then, if that had no effect, startle the machine with a quick and underhand thump to a vital bit of its anatomy.
This, he’d assured me, never failed.
I’d just pressed down the switches (with no discernible result) when I sensed rather than heard a slight movement in the doorway behind me and knew I was no longer alone.
‘What the hell are you doing in here?’ demanded a deep, rumbling and ominously familiar voice, which then added more urgently, ‘And don’t touch that—’
But he was too late, because after the first heart-stopping second, logic had told me I was in no danger from that quarter — so I’d ignored him and dealt the generator a sudden blow. This had the desired result: it burst instantly into roaring, throbbing noise.
Then I turned round and said calmly, ‘Why don’t you put on the light now it’s working again, and introduce yourself?’
But unfortunately, when he did, I decided I’d liked him much better in the dark. To say he was a large man was like saying that grizzlies are quite big bears, for he was not only extremely tall, but broad across the shoulders too. A pair of red-rimmed, deep-set dark eyes looked out of a face that only the words ‘grim’ and ‘rugged’ seemed to describe, framed by the fur-edged hood of a giant parka.
‘My God, it’s the abominable snowman!’ I heard my voice say rudely, though in my defence it has to be admitted that I’d had a long and very trying day. ‘That’s all we need!’
He covered the expanse of floor between us in two quick strides, pushing back the hood to reveal a lot of short dark hair, all standing on end, and looked down at me (which was not something I was used to) with a heavy frown furrowing his forehead.
Those new theories about us all having a bit of Neanderthal DNA might be true, then.
‘Holly Brown, I presume?’
‘Yes — and you don’t have to tell me who you are, because it’s obvious now I can see you better: Jude Martland. I thought you were in America?’
‘I was,’ he said shortly. ‘But the last I heard from Noël was that Tilda had had an accident and been rushed off to hospital, so I didn’t know what the hell was happening! I’ve been travelling ever since.’
Well, that would account for the red-rimmed eyes and the dark stubble, at least, though the bad-tempered expression was probably a permanent feature on a face that could only be described, even by his loved ones, as rugged rather than handsome.
‘You were so concerned you came straight back?’
I must have sounded incredulous, because a spark of anger glowed in his eyes and he snapped back, ‘Of course I did! With a mercenary witch in charge of my house, I didn’t hold out much hope that anyone would be rallying round.’
‘Thanks. If I sounded surprised, it’s because you didn’t strike me as someone who would care enough about any of your family to fly back straight away.’
‘I can’t imagine where you got that idea. .’ He paused, still glaring at me. ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’
‘No, I’m glad to say I’ve never met you before in my life.’ I rather wished it had stayed that way.
‘You look vaguely familiar. But never mind that — where are Noël and Tilda? There was no sign of life at the lodge.’
‘Here, of course! They moved in with Jess on the afternoon after the accident, and your Aunt Becca came the next day, so she’s here too. I did try and call your mobile to tell you what was happening.’
‘I was probably over the Atlantic by then.’ He looked at me thoughtfully. ‘So, who else had you already invited to stay with you, some friend or other? There were two cars by the gate, though the snow’s drifted over them.’
‘Of course I didn’t invite a visitor!’ I snapped. ‘I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing while looking after a house, unless I had prior permission from the owner.’
‘Then whose is the second car?’
‘The small one is mine, but the other—’
‘A plaintive voice from the cold outer darkness broke in. ‘Excuse m-me,’ it said through chattering teeth, ‘d-do you think you c-could p-possibly c-continue this c-conversation indoors? Only I th-think I’ve got hypothermia.’
Jude Martland moved to one side, revealing his companion to be a smaller, fair man. He seemed to have several layers of clothes on, though going by the outer one, a light raincoat, none of them was terribly suitable for trekking through snowdrifts in arctic conditions.
‘I’d forgotten about you!’ Jude said, then turned to me: ‘Look, I’m going to bring the Land Rover into the shelter of the yard. You take him into the kitchen and thaw him out.’
‘Yeah, and what did your last one die of?’ I muttered, but he was running his hands over the gently throbbing generator and didn’t hear me. Honestly, men and their toys!
‘It’s fine,’ I assured him. ‘Henry showed me what to do if it wouldn’t start automatically. There’s no mechanical skill involved that I can see.’
‘There is if it goes wrong,’ he said, then turned and strode off.
‘Well, do come into the house,’ I invited the shivering stranger and he followed me in gratefully. I made him take his soggy shoes and outer layers off in the passage and put them in the utility room to dry off, along with mine.
Now I could see him better, he was very handsome, in a thin, fair way — chilled but perfectly preserved. ‘I’m M-Michael Whiston,’ he said, holding out a hand like a frozen blue fish.
‘Holly Brown — come on through, it’s warmer in the kitchen. And never mind the dog, Merlin is harmless.’
Merlin didn’t seem terribly interested in the stranger, except in a polite sort of way, but at the roar of the Land Rover’s engine outside and then a pair of heavy thuds — presumably as baggage was tossed through the back door — he uttered a low bark and began to wag his tail.
‘Just as well someone’s glad to see him,’ I muttered. I pulled up a chair next to the Aga for Michael and then fetched a picnic rug from the utility room and draped it around him. He smiled gratefully.
I’d put the kettle on and was making tea by the time Jude came in, in stockinged feet and drying his hair on Merlin’s towel. He tossed it aside and bent to fondle the old dog’s ears.
‘I looked in on Lady — she seems fine,’ he said grudgingly.
‘Of course she’s fine
, I kept telling you she was. And Becca’s keeping an eye on her now, too.’ I handed him a mug. ‘Give your friend this, he’s got hypothermia. I’ve put brandy in it.’
‘Not the good brandy from the dining room, I trust?’
‘No, I used that up in the cake. This is some cheap stuff I got from the pub.’
‘You put my Armagnac in the cake?’ he asked with disbelief.
‘I had to make a Christmas cake in a hurry and I assumed it wasn’t much good or you would have locked it in the cellar with the rest of the booze. Mo and Jim wouldn’t have touched it anyway and neither would I — all the Homebodies staff are vetted for honesty, soberness and reliability.’
‘I forgot about it until too late, but it was Sharon I didn’t trust, not Mo and Jim.’ He stared at me. ‘I’d never have thought of anyone putting the last of my father’s good brandy in a cake, though!’
‘It’s not the last, Noël found another bottle in the cellar. And anyway, the cake is for your family and it smells delicious. Now, for goodness sake, give the tea to your friend before it goes cold!’
‘Michael isn’t my friend, I’d never met him before tonight. He’s just another fool who got his car stuck on the lower road trying to take a shortcut.’
‘The SatNav sent me down there,’ the man said, gratefully clamping both shaking hands around the mug, though at least his teeth seemed to have stopped chattering. ‘But the snow got too bad and I couldn’t go any further.’
‘I had to bring him with me, I couldn’t leave him to freeze to death in his car. I’ll be surprised if even the snowplough gets through in the morning, if it carries on like this.’
‘I’m astonished you got up here at all if it’s that bad, because George Froggat said the bottom end of the lane often gets impassable in snow and ice and the weather’s much worse now. But I sincerely hope you’re wrong, and it thaws out a bit by morning.’
‘I had chains for the tyres in the back of the Land Rover, so I stopped and put them on as soon as I left the motorway. But no-one in their right mind would drive up narrow country lanes in this weather without them.’ He gave the other man a look of scorn.
‘Well, thank you for rescuing me, anyway,’ Michael said, with an attempt at a smile. ‘And for making me put on half the clothes in my suitcase, too!’
I sat down at the table with my tea and Merlin immediately abandoned his master and came and sat down, leaning against my leg as he usually does, his head on my knees. Jude gave him one of the frowning looks he’d been bestowing on me earlier, though slightly puzzled, too.
Now I’d got over the surprise, I’d started to wonder how Jude’s arrival would affect me: after all, I was only here to house-sit and he wouldn’t need me now. Still, time to sort that out in the morning. I’d pray for a sudden thaw!
‘I’ll have to give Michael a bed for the night,’ Jude said.
‘Then I’m afraid it will either have to be yours or the little servant’s room next to mine in this wing.’
He had been pushing back his unruly dark hair, which was trying to curl damply, but now stopped and stared at me with his treacle toffee-coloured eyes. ‘Why? What’s the matter with the others? I mean, only three of them can be occupied, apart from yours?’
‘Actually, no, all the rooms in that wing are in use tonight: your brother Guy arrived earlier and his fiancée — or ex-fiancée I should say, since they’ve had a falling-out — followed him. I’ve put her in the nursemaid’s room next to Jess, since Guy wouldn’t give up his room for her and we couldn’t put her in yours, because it was locked and even Noël didn’t have the key.’
‘What, Guy and Coco are here?’ he demanded, missing most of the explanation and going straight to the nub of the matter.
‘Yes, Coco managed to run her car off the road and I have no idea where it is now, but the other car outside is your brother’s.’
‘Guy’s got a nerve, coming up here while I’m away!’ Anger sparked in his eyes.
‘He certainly has: he seemed to think he could simply turn up and the Chirks would feed and look after him!’
‘And I suppose you let him bamboozle you into letting him stay?’
‘Look,’ I said shortly, ‘I got back from a shopping trip to the village and he was here already, with your aunt and uncle, in his family home. How do you think I, the house-sitter, was supposed to eject him? Oh, and he’d had a couple of drinks by then, too, so there was no way he could have driven anywhere.’
‘I suppose not,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘You said Coco had an accident? Is she all right? Where is everyone?’
‘Coco’s fine, apart from some exhausting hysterics after arguing with your brother when she arrived, but it’s been a bit of a day, and they’ve all gone to bed. I was just about to as well, once I’d checked on Lady and Nutkin, but then the electricity went off and the generator obviously wasn’t going to start up on its own.’
‘I hope you’ve been keeping the heating on all the time at a low level, like I said in the instructions?’
‘I don’t think it has any temperature other than low, does it? But I haven’t touched it and I’ve also kept the fire going in the sitting room day and night and opened all the upstairs bedroom doors to let the warm air circulate and air them, luckily.’
‘Except mine, presumably?’
I shrugged. ‘Unless any air sneaked in through the keyhole.’
‘I don’t mind where you put me, I’m just grateful you’ve taken me in,’ Michael offered, sounding much better.
‘The only bedroom left used to be a servant’s one and is a bit Spartan, but it’s warm and comfortable enough and I’ll make your bed up and put a hot water bottle in it,’ I told him.
‘You’re very kind: bed with a hot water bottle sounds like bliss.’ He gave me that charming smile again and I found myself smiling back.
‘That’s all right. You’ll have to share my bathroom, which is just opposite — in fact, you’d better have a hot bath before you turn in. Come on.’
‘What about my bed, aren’t you going to make that, too?’ asked Jude sardonically.
‘No — and if your room is chilly and musty, it’s your own fault for locking it.’
I led Michael up the backstairs, first collecting his two expensive-looking bags from the hall, where Jude had dumped them in a puddle of melting snow with his own. I put out towels and ran a bath while he unpacked his night gear, then while he was in there I made his bed up.
I heard Jude climb the backstairs and walk along the passage, heading for his own wing, and apart from Merlin the kitchen was deserted when I fetched the hot water bottle.
Hoping Michael wouldn’t fall asleep in the bath, I went up to my own bed after washing up the mugs and saying good night to Merlin. Luckily the bathroom was now empty and, in fact, the whole house seemed quiet when I cautiously opened the door to the gallery a crack and listened: a brooding silence reigned.
I had a feeling it wouldn’t be quite so tranquil in the morning. .
By now, I was at that stage beyond exhaustion where you’re looking at everything through thick glass, so I climbed into bed and picked up Gran’s latest journal, saying aloud, ‘Please let me have jumped to all the wrong conclusions so there’s no possibility I’m related to that objectionable man!’
Chapter 22
Outcomes
I have been feeling ill, especially in the mornings, and although it is still early to tell, I am sure I am expecting. I sent a note to N asking him to meet me urgently and intend to slip out very late this evening. Pearl and Hilda, who are in my confidence and very anxious to know the outcome, will wait up to let me back in again.
May, 1945
I woke very early, before it was light, and lay there for a little while thinking about poor Granny, for whom the outcome I had feared seemed to have come about. She didn’t marry Ned Martland in the end, but I don’t know if this was because he abandoned her (which looks horribly likely) or because he was killed before it could
happen.
And here I was, landed in the middle of a Christmas house-party (the very thing I had tried to avoid), for the family of the man who seduced poor Gran — it’s bizarre!
But I suppose everything at Old Place might be about to change with the arrival of the master of the house, because presumably I was now redundant — surplus to requirements. Assuming, that was, that Jude knew how to cook?
And it was at that inconvenient moment that I suddenly realised that before the arrival of Guy, Coco and the objectionable Jude, I’d actually begun to enjoy all the Christmas preparations and would be sorry to leave!
But if they clear the roads I expect Jude will send Coco and his brother packing back to London, and expect me to leave too. He might want to count the silver first, since he seemed to have a very nasty, suspicious mind.
Up to that point, though, I knew my duty and would carry on as usual, so I got up and showered, then dressed in sensible jeans and jumper and went downstairs to let Merlin out and give the horses a bit of carrot.
It was still pretty dark, but I could see that the snow had drifted up one side of the yard and not the other, where the Land Rover stood. I didn’t think it seemed worse than the previous night though, just crunchier underfoot.
I cleaned out the ashes and stoked up the embers of the sitting-room fire, got everything out ready for breakfast and laid Tilda’s tray.
While I was busy, the radio kept announcing that it was Christmas Eve, as if I might have the five-minute memory of a goldfish, but somehow these reminders didn’t seem to hurt quite so much as they usually did, possibly because I had so much else on my mind at the moment.
Perhaps, at last, I was starting to relinquish the past and move on. A fresh start in the New Year — and maybe a fresh new life to go with it. Thank goodness nowadays having babies out of wedlock was totally acceptable, unlike in Gran’s day!
Merlin was eating his breakfast, liberally sprinkled with his medicine, and I had made giblet stock and a bowl of stuffing for tomorrow and was putting a batch of biscuits in the oven, when Michael came diffidently into the kitchen. He looked a different man to the frozen one of the night before — very handsome in a slightly haggard way, with fine features, light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was wearing a pale cashmere jumper to rival Guy’s, over cream chinos, which was about as practical an outfit for the country as any of Coco’s.
Twelve Days of Christmas Page 20
