Chapter 23
Pieced Together
At my news N went quite pale with shock, though he quickly recovered and took me in his arms, repeatedly reassuring me that everything would be all right. He was so much his old, loving, sweet self that I went back to my lodgings feeling very much better.
May, 1945
A little later the generator stopped roaring suddenly as the mains electricity came back on. According to Noël, in winter it flickers on and off more often than the fairy lights on the tree. Still, at least the generator had switched itself off, as it was supposed to.
By late morning we were all gathered in the sitting room over elevenses of tea, coffee and, by Tilda’s request, the Dundee cake that was Old Nan’s annual gift to them.
‘Then we can say how much we enjoyed it, when we see her,’ she pointed out.
‘Are we seeing her?’ asked Guy.
‘Oh yes, she and Richard will be here for dinner as usual tomorrow.’
Jess and I had water-iced the biscuits in bright colours and were hanging them on the tree with loops of embroidery silk that she had found in an old Victorian sewing box from the morning room, for want of ribbon. Becca was steadying the ladder while I reached up to do the higher branches.
Tilda was on the sofa in front of the fire, with Merlin on the rug at her feet, and Noël, Michael and Guy were at the table in the window, trying to finish piecing together one edge of the jigsaw that I’d bought at Oriel Comfort’s shop, with Coco restlessly watching them from the window seat. There is something very compulsive about a jigsaw puzzle, although it didn’t seem to have that effect on Coco; but then, that was probably nicotine deprivation.
Jude had retired to his little studio office next to the library, though he must have heard Coco’s screech when she finally saw George’s tractor coming up the drive pushing aside the fresh snow like an icebreaker, because he was there when I came back from letting him in.
I expect I must have looked a little bit pink and ruffled, but I regained my composure while George got over his surprise at finding Jude back from America.
‘Never mind that,’ interrupted Coco from the window seat. ‘What I want to know is, has the road been cleared, so we can get away?’
‘I hope by “we” you mean you and Michael,’ Guy said.
‘If you are going to be so mean and I can’t get my car out, then I’m sure Michael would drop me at a railway station.’
George took off his battered felt hat and ran his fingers through his thick thatch of silver-fair hair so that it stood on end. ‘Hold your horses! Liam had a hell of a job clearing the lane down to the village this morning, the old snow’s ridged into ice underneath the fresh stuff. And young Ben from Weasel’s Pot was at the pub, and he told him the lane below the farm is impassable and nothing’s moving down on the main Great Mumming road either.’
‘But that’s ridiculous! Surely, if Jude got up here last night, it’s possible to drive down again?’ Coco exclaimed.
‘It hadn’t frozen over with all this fresh snow on top last night,’ George said, looking her over dispassionately, as if she was a rather poor heifer.
‘And I only just made it up the hill to Weasel Pot with chains on the wheels,’ Jude put in.
‘Yes, and though I don’t doubt you could get down to the village and back, it would be pointless going further, you’d just get stuck,’ George agreed.
‘But you or someone else with a tractor could get me out of here, couldn’t you?’ wheedled Coco in a little-girl voice. ‘Me will pay you wots and wots of money!’
‘Excuse me while I throw up,’ I muttered.
George shook his head. ‘I told you, it’s impassable.’ ‘But presumably the council will be out clearing the main road by now, won’t they?’ suggested Michael. ‘Might it be possible later today?’
‘You can’t have been listening to the weather forecast or watched the news — the snow’s wreaked havoc all over the country. The council won’t bother with the little roads either, when it’s all they can do to clear the main ones.’
‘Guy!’ Coco said, turning to him. ‘Do something!’
‘Don’t look at me, I can’t perform miracles,’ he said and she gave an angry sob.
‘It’s your fault I’m here in the first place! Mummy and Daddy will be wondering where on earth I am, and they’ve invited the whole family round on Boxing Day to meet you because we’re engaged and bought champagne to toast us. And—’
‘Oh God, she’s going hysterical again,’ Becca said disgustedly. ‘Shall I throw some cold water on her? Please let me do it this time — I’d feel so much better!’
‘Now, Becca,’ Noël chided. ‘The poor child’s just a little overset.’
But Coco was not so far gone that she hadn’t heard this implied threat. She retreated to sob quietly on a sofa as far removed from Becca as possible and Michael followed her after a minute and sat next to her, talking quietly and patting her hand.
‘I’ll be off then,’ said George, looking hopefully at me, but I avoided his eye and let Guy see him out this time.
‘It looks as if I’m stuck with all of you over Christmas, unless some miraculous thaw takes place, which seems unlikely,’ Jude said with resignation when Guy came back.
‘We might as well make the most of it, then,’ Guy said. ‘Coco, do stop making that noise.’
‘I c-can’t help it — I want to go home!’ she wailed.
‘It’s not looking very likely at the moment.’
‘I’m sorry to put you out like this,’ Michael apologised to Jude.
‘Oh, you’re the least of my worries. Don’t give it a thought.’
‘Perhaps someone will help me dig out my car, just in case it does thaw out this afternoon?’ I asked. Jude turned and looked at me from his treacle-dark eyes and snapped, ‘Why, where the hell do you think you’re going?’
‘Home, if I can get out. But if not, I thought perhaps the pub might do rooms. . I mean, now you’re back, the job I was hired for is finished, isn’t it?’
‘Not so fast,’ he said, ‘you invited a houseful of people here and promised to cook for them, so you can’t just take off like that.’
‘Actually, I only invited half of them.’
‘But, Holly, you can’t go,’ wailed Jess, ‘it won’t be as much fun without you! And what’s more, Uncle Jude can’t cook!’
‘There is that,’ he admitted. ‘Though of course, Tilda can.’
‘Tilda can’t cope with the cooking, not after her fall,’ Noël said. ‘She’s still recovering.’
‘Load of old fusspots — I’m fine,’ Tilda insisted. ‘Though why spoil things when Holly and I have everything organised between us?’
Jude turned his dark eyes forbiddingly in my direction. ‘Anyway, when did I say I wanted you to leave? And, by the way, the pub doesn’t let rooms.’
‘You didn’t say you wanted me to. But now you’re here, the job I was engaged for is ended and I’m sure you would rather I went, so—’
‘The job damned-well isn’t ended!’ he interrupted. ‘I’m paying you at great expense to do the cooking for my family over Christmas and you’re going to stay and earn your money, every last penny of it!’
‘Oh, no, you’re quite wrong, Jude,’ Noël told him, looking surprised. ‘Holly refuses to charge us any extra, though I have told her she should be paid for all her extra trouble, when she was expecting to have a peaceful couple of weeks on her own.’
‘I don’t find cooking for you any trouble,’ I assured him.
‘Of course she doesn’t,’ said Tilda. ‘And very good she is, too.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, touched by this unexpected tribute.
‘Not as good as me, obviously, but very good,’ she qualified.
‘Loth though I am to disillusion you both,’ Jude said to them, ‘I am in fact going to be paying Homebodies through the nose for Holly’s services.’
‘No, you’re not,’ I corrected him. ‘It
’s your own fault if you assumed I would do anything you wanted if you offered me enough money, but I’ve already told Ellen that I’ll only be putting in a bill for house-sitting and any extra groceries I’ve had to buy.’
I smiled at Tilda and Noël. ‘I was enjoying myself, actually.’
‘And of course you must stay, Holly, we wouldn’t dream of letting you do anything else!’ Noël insisted. ‘In any case, if she can’t get out, what is she supposed to do, camp out alone in the lodge until she can leave?’
‘I’d be very happy to stay at the lodge, if you didn’t mind?’
‘No, no, of course you are staying here, m’dear!’
‘Yes, for we’ve decided the menus right through to Twelfth Night!’ said Tilda.
‘And Holly’s not only a brilliant cook, she’s fun,’ Jess told her uncle. ‘Merlin loves her too,’ she added as a clincher.
Indeed Merlin, deducing from his master’s voice that he was angry with me, now clambered onto my lap and was facing him protectively, all long, dangling limbs and rough fur.
‘He does seem to be her shadow, I can’t think what’s got into him,’ Jude said, staring at his dog. ‘So, Holly Brown, you’ve wormed your way into the heart of the family in a very short space of time, haven’t you? You seem to be a very dangerous, Becky Sharp sort of woman to me. And I’m still positive I know you from somewhere.’
Having read Vanity Fair, I wasn’t too keen on being likened to Becky Sharp — and I certainly wasn’t a fortune hunter out to marry him!
‘We all thought she looked familiar too,’ Noël said, ‘but I expect it’s only that she has the Martland look — the dark hair, height and light olive skin. So not only does she feel like a member of the family already, she also looks like one and fits right in!’
‘I suppose that could be it,’ Jude agreed.
‘But I get my light grey eyes and dark hair from my grandmother,’ I put in quickly. ‘In fact, apart from being tall and dark, I don’t really look like any of you.’
‘You’re much prettier than Jude, that’s for sure,’ said Guy, eyeing me thoughtfully. ‘Though pretty isn’t really the right word — you’re beautiful, in an unusual way.’
‘What, me?’ I said, astonished. After years of bullying about my height and looks, not to mention Gran’s repeated assertion that I had no reason to be vain, I found this hard to believe.
‘Yes — even George looked smitten with you — and if he didn’t kiss you under that handy bunch of mistletoe in the porch before you brought him in, why were you blushing?’
‘It was nothing, he just took me by surprise. I hadn’t even noticed the mistletoe hung in the porch until he grabbed me.’ I could feel myself going pink again, because there was no mistaking that George fancied me!
‘Becca and I hung that up,’ Noël explained. ‘There’s always a bunch of mistletoe there.’
Behind me, Coco’s piercing voice could be heard saying to Michael, ‘Guy said that housekeeper woman was beautiful — but she’s not, is she? And I mean, she might be tall enough to be a model, but she’s way too fat!’
I turned round and snapped, ‘If you think being a healthy weight is fat, then you’re sick! In any case, I’d rather be fat than so skinny I rattled when I walked! Excuse me: if no-one’s leaving, I’d better go and do something about lunch.’
I went out to the kitchen since clearly I hadn’t got much option but to stay, unless the roads miraculously cleared and this now seemed unlikely. Lunch was only going to be soup and sandwiches and I would lay it in the sitting room. I was getting tired of having so many people underfoot in my kitchen. There were some nice pale blue two-handled soup cups with saucers and stacks of paper napkins. I’d found a stash of real linen ones in the downstairs cupboard, but as far as I was concerned they could stay there until Jude had managed to find a handy skivvy willing to wash and iron them for her lord and master after use.
A few minutes later Jude followed me in and closed the door, then stood there with his arms folded, looking at me in a frowning, puzzled sort of way. I ignored him, as much as you could ignore something that size glowering at you, while I put the soup on the stove and got out some little oval tins of expensive game pâté I’d discovered in one of the cupboards. The use-by date was the end of December, so they needed eating.
‘I wish you’d sit down and stop looming about,’ I snapped eventually. ‘Cooking isn’t a spectator sport, you know.’
He pulled out the sturdiest of the wheelback chairs and sat on it and it protested, but weakly: I think it knew its place.
‘My mother liked to cook and I loved to watch her,’ he said unexpectedly.
‘I envy you that, because I never knew mine: she died when I was born. Gran told me lots about her, but it’s not the same thing,’ I said, softened by this picture of him as a child, hard though it was to imagine now. ‘Perhaps some of the cookery books on the shelf are hers?’
‘I expect they are, but she was just an amateur, while you, as you told me on the phone, are a highly-paid cook.’
‘Chef.’
‘Whatever.’ He fixed his treacle-dark eyes on me and I noticed for the first time that they had disconcertingly mesmerising flecks of gold in them. .
I wrenched my gaze away with an effort and carried on with what I was doing and he said, ‘Look, Holly, I don’t understand what game you’re playing, though it’s pretty clear you’re up to something; but since we need your help over Christmas, I’ll pay you whatever you want. It seems as if you’re going to be stuck here with us, anyway.’
‘Unless I go and stay in the lodge? But I’m not up to anything and nor did I offer to look after your family for money. I did it because I felt sorry you’d spoilt their Christmas — and also, I really like them.’
‘So, are you saying you were just winding me up when you told me your charges were astronomical and that I couldn’t afford them?’ He scowled blackly at me.
‘My cooking charges are astronomical, but I didn’t actually say I was going to bill you for them at any point, did I? I told Ellen not to.’
‘You let me assume you were!’
‘Only because you annoyed me by assuming I was totally mercenary.’
‘I don’t know what’s the matter with you — I got on fine with Jim and Mo! And surely you can’t be this rude to all your clients?’
‘I only give back as good as I get! In fact, I’m a perfectly calm, competent and reasonable person.’
‘Oh yes, perfectly reasonable: after all, you only implied I’d neglected my elderly relatives and then got me so worried that you wouldn’t look after them properly that I got on the first plane back from America. Then I found you’d filled my house full of people.’
‘I filled your house? Whose family, ghastly ex-fiancée, free-loading brother and refugee actor are they anyway, may I ask?’ I demanded. ‘And did anyone ask me if I wanted to double the number of people I was cooking for? Or offer to help me — apart from Michael, who isn’t part of your family at all!’
We glared at each other. He was looking a bit rough, which was probably equal parts bad temper and jet lag. . or maybe he always looked like that?
‘If your uncle and aunt wouldn’t mind, perhaps it would be best if I removed myself down to the lodge,’ I said after a minute. ‘I’ll leave you detailed instructions for cooking dinner tomorrow and tonight’s is really quite simple. I can show you the menu plans and Tilda will tell you—’
‘Just stop right there!’ he snarled, then wearily rubbed a hand across his tired face and gave a long sigh. ‘Look, Holly, I think perhaps we’ve simply got off on the wrong foot. Couldn’t we put the past behind us and start again? If I apologise in fifteen different positions and not mention money, will you please stay over Christmas and do the cooking?’
There was a slight element of gritted teeth about this apology and proposal and I said suspiciously, ‘What, as general skivvy?’
‘As a house guest who has kindly offered to do the coo
king.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I said, ‘perhaps you are right, and we should let bygones be bygones and start over again. But meanwhile, if your vacuous ex-fiancée demands another egg-white omelette, I might just oblige and then rub her silly face in it.’
He grinned suddenly with genuine amusement and I blinked at the transformation: he looked younger — perhaps not much older than me — and if he wasn’t handsome, he was still interestingly attractive. . if you liked the strong-featured, hard-jawed type, that is.
‘She has elderly parents who’ve spoiled her rotten, but she’s not usually quite this bad.’ He paused and added, ‘Was it my imagination or was she turning the charm on me at breakfast?’
‘Only in a general way, I think,’ I said, considering this. ‘She’s all over Michael like a rash, of course, but then, he’s apparently a well-known actor and she’s met him before, so it isn’t really surprising.’
‘I got the impression he was just soothing her down, because it’s you he seems to be getting on with like a house on fire. In fact, if you’ve been snogging George as well, you seem to have managed to get off with two total strangers in no time at all.’
‘I wasn’t snogging George and I haven’t “got off”, as you put it, with either of them,’ I said with dignity. ‘They’re just both very nice men.’
‘Well, my brother isn’t and he seemed to be eyeing you up a bit, too.’
‘What, saying I was beautiful?’ I laughed. ‘Oh, that’s silly, he was just winding Coco up. I think he’s being a bit cruel to her, because he must have led her on to think they were going to get married, or she wouldn’t have sent off the announcement and told her parents, would she?’
‘You’ve met her now: you tell me.’ He got up, narrowly missing the lamp suspended over the kitchen table. ‘So, do we have an agreement? You’ll stay and do the cooking?’
‘I suppose so,’ I agreed reluctantly. ‘But I’m doing it for Jess, Noël, Tilda and Becca — and for Old Nan and Richard.’
‘Richard?’ He raised a thick dark eyebrow. ‘Another man you’re on first-name terms with already?’
Twelve Days of Christmas Page 22
