Twelve Days of Christmas

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘Yes, but there is a very fine Christmas cake uncut, that Holly has made for us.’

  ‘Lavishly using the best brandy, the last of the stock my father laid down,’ Jude said darkly.

  ‘That’s all right, then,’ Old Nan said brightly, then gave Coco, who was sitting next to Michael, a hard stare.

  Michael had evinced genuine delight with his magenta-and-pink-striped scarf and wound it round his neck, but Coco was still fingering her lime-green bobble hat with a blank expression. Though actually, her complete repertoire of expressions only seemed to encompass blank or sulky, which didn’t bode well for her acting aspirations.

  ‘Isn’t that the flibbertigibbet Jude was engaged to last Christmas, the one that ran off with Guy, instead?’ Old Nan asked Becca in a piercing whisper.

  ‘I didn’t run off with anyone,’ Coco snapped, overhearing. ‘In fact, Guy made all the running!’

  Richard smiled benignly around. ‘But now the past is forgiven and forgotten and here we all are together again for Christmas. Coco and Guy are engaged to each other, Nan.’

  ‘No-one is engaged to anyone,’ Guy said firmly.

  ‘But then, if you’re not engaged, what is she doing up here?’ demanded Old Nan querulously. ‘I didn’t like her last time!’

  ‘And back at you!’ Coco said rudely.

  ‘Old Nan is my invited guest,’ Jude pointed out to her, ‘while you are not, so you’d better mind your manners.’

  Jess suddenly jumped up, exclaiming, ‘Oh, I nearly forgot — Liam brought a present from his dad for you, Holly! I left it in the hall while I was hanging the coats up.’

  She ran to get it and I asked hopefully, ‘Did everybody get one?’

  ‘No, just you,’ Becca said with a grin.

  Jess returned with a long parcel that could only be a stick — and it was, with a beautifully carved ram’s head handle.

  ‘You are honoured to have one of those,’ Jude said, taking it from me and examining the carving. ‘He’s renowned for them, but he usually sells them and rarely gives one away.’

  ‘He loves you, he wants to marry you!’ chanted Jess, dancing round me like an evil sprite.

  ‘No such thing,’ I said with composure, though I might have blushed slightly since they were all staring at me.

  ‘Then why did he give you a special present?’

  ‘Jess, don’t tease her,’ Tilda said.

  ‘But who can blame old George for being smitten?’ asked Guy, raising an eyebrow. ‘He’s a widower you know, Holly, with his own farm — a bit of a catch. You could do worse.’

  ‘Uncle Jude is a widower, too,’ Jess said, ‘and he’s got Old Place and lots of money because his statues sell for squillions.’

  ‘That’s a slight exaggeration of my eligibility,’ Jude said, unembarrassed.

  ‘I didn’t know you’d been married,’ I said, turning to him in surprise.

  ‘We forget, because it was such a long time ago and she died young, a bit like that film — what was it called?’ said Becca. ‘Love Story, that was the one.’

  ‘It was nothing like Love Story,’ Jude said shortly, his face going all shuttered, so it was still clearly a painful memory even after all this time.

  ‘And he isn’t Holly’s suitor, either, so it doesn’t matter, does it?’ said Coco with a brittle laugh. ‘I can’t see why everyone is getting so excited, just because an old farmer has given the cook a walking stick.’

  ‘He’s not actually all that old, just a bit weathered,’ Becca pointed out. ‘Late forties, at the most.’

  ‘That is pretty old,’ Jess said. ‘Uncle Jude is only thirty-eight.’

  She seemed to think this was a matter for congratulation.

  ‘And I’m a mere thirty-six,’ Guy said, bestowing one of his ravishing smiles on me, though to no effect: unlike Gran, I wasn’t going to be taken in by a handsome, womanising Martland.

  I was sure he didn’t really fancy me, he just probably automatically flirted with any woman around.

  ‘And I’m a very successful investment banker, too,’ he added as a clincher.

  ‘Change the B for a W and that’s more like it,’ Jude muttered rudely next to me, surprising me into a snort of laughter.

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ Guy said. ‘Anyway, you’ll find I’m much more fun than George: he spends most of his days talking to sheep.’

  I wasn’t used to this kind of flirting, however insincere, and I didn’t know how to play the game, so it was a relief to escape back into the kitchen.

  And I only hoped Jess hadn’t got it into her head to try and matchmake me with her beloved Uncle Jude, because it was an idea doomed by our mutual antipathy from the start!

  Noël welcomed us into the dining room with a lively rendering of The Twelve Days of Christmas, accompanying himself on the piano and Tilda joined in the last verse with a brittle and slightly wavery soprano.

  And the Christmas dinner, if I may say so myself without sounding too immodest, was cooked to a turn.

  The golden-roasted turkey and chipolatas wrapped in bacon, the bread sauce, the crispy roast potatoes and parsnips, the firm, small sprouts from Henry’s garden and good Lancashire gravy so thick you could almost stand a spoon up in it. . all were perfection.

  Once everyone was well lubricated with alcohol to a state of reasonable bonhomie, we pulled crackers, shared the mottos and wore the silver cardboard crowns (which, oddly enough, suited Jude best — with his broad brow, thick straight nose and strong jaw, he looked like a rugged prince fresh off the battlefield). Then we set to, and even Coco, with an air of reckless abandon probably engendered by whatever the green drink was she had had earlier, ate at least a teaspoon of everything.

  I only hoped it would stay in her system long enough to do her some good, and although I was considering hiding her supply of laxatives when I had an opportunity, I wasn’t sure quite what the effect of going cold turkey on the Fruity-Go would have on her. .

  Finally Jude ignited the brandy over the large, domed pudding and carried it into the specially darkened room, the blue flames dancing. Michael brought up the rear, carrying the brandy butter and white sauce.

  At the end of the meal Jude opened champagne and everyone toasted my cooking, which was very gratifying. Then he proposed a second one to Noël’s birthday.

  ‘And Holly’s, too,’ Noël said, raising his glass to me, ‘we share the same birthday.’

  Then they all retired to the sitting room, totally stuffed, though Jude, Jess and Michael helped me clear the table first.

  I loaded as much into the dishwasher as it would take and joined them, after sneaking a bit of turkey into Merlin’s bowl and giving him a Christmas kiss on the top of his rough grey head.

  Old Nan and Tilda had fallen asleep at either end of the big sofa, their feet up on the cushions, and Noël reclined on the smaller one: but the rest of the party were playing Monopoly at one of the tables, even Coco, though she kept laughing a lot for no particular reason and declaring that she was only going to buy pink properties.

  I drifted over to the jigsaw (they irritate me until they are finished, because I like everything neat and tidy) and immediately spotted that one piece was upside down. When that was righted, after carefully examining the picture on the box, I completed a whole corner of sky.

  But then, I’ve found in life that it always pays to scrutinise the packaging.

  Chapter 28

  Christmas Present

  In the end I had to face up to the inescapable truth that my lover had abandoned me. There was no help for it: in desperation I went home and told my parents of my plight. The scene that followed was worse by far than ever I could have imagined.

  May, 1945

  Liam duly appeared in the big farm Land Rover with chains on the wheels, ready to take the guests home. Both were carrying care parcels of cake, sausage rolls and turkey and stuffing sandwiches, to keep them going once the dinner wore off, though personally I felt like a python that h
ad swallowed a goat, and might not have to eat for a month.

  I gave Liam another hastily-packed jam jar full of sweets as a reciprocal present for his father, though I’d also done one for him, so the gesture wouldn’t seem too particular — I was feeling flattered but cautious! I’d now run out of my stockpile of goodies and Liam’s were the Jelly Babies (my particular weakness) that I’d bought for myself.

  ‘Could I hitch a ride with you as far as the lodge?’ I asked. ‘I can get a mobile signal there and I want to phone my friend to wish her Happy Christmas. But I’ll walk back, I need the exercise.’

  ‘It’s going to be dark soon,’ Guy pointed out.

  ‘I can hardly miss my way back though, can I? And I’ll take Merlin with me for company, if that’s all right with you, Liam? I won’t be long.’

  ‘We’ll see to the horses while you’re out,’ Becca said, ‘won’t we, Jess?’

  ‘Or I can do it, Becca, if you’d like a rest?’ Jude offered.

  ‘No, that’s all right — you can do it in the morning and give us both a lie-in!’

  ‘I’ll give you the key to the lodge, if you wouldn’t mind just checking that everything is fine again?’ asked Noël.

  ‘Of course, and perhaps I could collect one or two things that we’ve nearly run out of from the kitchen while I’m there?’ I wasn’t quite sure what he thought might go wrong at the lodge, apart from a burst pipe or the abominable snowman taking up residence. . which he wouldn’t be doing, because he was already living here, at Old Place!

  And as that thought crossed my mind, my eyes met Jude’s dark ones, disconcertingly and broodingly fixed on me again with his brow furrowed. Perhaps he thought I might ransack the lodge for family silver while there?

  I had to wear my long winter coat instead of the warm hooded anorak I would have preferred: one of the penalties of putting on a dress in winter. But it was that or risk frostbite in my extremities.

  Richard and Old Nan were temporarily revived by air so cold that you could feel it penetrating right into all the little branchy bits of your lungs, like extreme Mentholyptus inhalation, but they’d dozed off again by the time Liam dropped me and Merlin at the lodge.

  Everything was fine and I ransacked the kitchen cupboards and filled my rucksack with more ground almonds, dried fruit and other odds and ends that I might need if the Big Freeze continued. Then I locked up carefully and walked a few yards down the side of the road, my feet scrunching on virgin snow, until the signal showed strongly on my mobile.

  It took quite a while for Laura to answer, probably because the noisy family party going on in the background made it hard for her to hear her phone, but when she did, she said she was fine.

  ‘Stone cold sober, of course — oh, the joys of pregnancy! Just you wait.’

  ‘Yes — speaking of pregnancy, I unwrapped that book you gave me right in front of everyone else this morning!’

  She laughed. ‘Sorry about that, but I forgot you wouldn’t be alone. Did they see it? They’ll think you’ve got a bun in your oven if they did!’

  ‘I hid it quickly and only Jude seemed to be looking at me at the time. He was right the other side of the room, though, so he’d need eyes like a hawk to read the title. He has been giving me some funny looks ever since but that’s nothing new: a brooding stare seems to be his natural fall-back expression.’

  ‘Ah yes, how is the lord and master, apart from the brooding, Heathcliff stare and deep, sexy voice?’

  ‘We’ve sort of come to a bit of a truce, but he’s still wary and he seemed very suspicious when I was asking Noël a few questions about Ned Martland earlier. Just because I’m tall and dark, like most of the Martlands, I think he might have started to worry that I’m a family by-blow, wanting a share of the inheritance. And come to that, I might be a family by-blow, or the daughter of one, but I don’t want to be.’

  ‘I take it you haven’t got far enough in the journals to find out for sure, yet?’

  ‘No, though it’s not exactly looking promising.’

  ‘Well, let me know. And I hoped Jude would turn out to be nicer than you thought and you’d get to really like each other,’ she said optimistically. ‘Is he good-looking?’

  I considered this. ‘He’s dark, but not handsome like his brother Guy, because his face is too rugged and he has a square jaw that makes him look a bit grim. But he does have a very attractive smile, when he bothers to use it.’

  ‘He must have used it, or you wouldn’t know! And isn’t he tall as well as dark? Handsome isn’t everything!’

  ‘Yes, he must be a good six-foot-six tall and very broad across the shoulders, though he tapers right down to really slim hips — in fact, he’s pretty fit without his clothes on!’ I added teasingly.

  ‘Holly!’

  ‘Don’t get excited, I just ran into him on my way to hang up Jess’s stocking last night and he was only wearing pyjama bottoms.’

  ‘He sounds to me as if he has a lot going for him, if you can get past your first dislike. I mean, if he’s way taller than you are, that has to be good, right?’

  ‘But I’m not used to a man towering over me and making me feel small, so I’m finding it a bit disconcerting, to be honest. He kissed me under the mistletoe too, even though he doesn’t like me — but it was something and nothing, so I don’t know why he bothered. Men are so odd!’

  ‘Hmmm. .’ she said thoughtfully. ‘How about the other men?’

  ‘I’m getting to really like Michael Whiston, he’s such a nice man and he also likes to cook, but I’m not attracted to Guy the love-rat in the least, because apparently he bears a huge resemblance to his Uncle Ned.’

  ‘And also, presumably, because you know he’s a love-rat?’

  ‘There is that, though I do find myself quite liking him sometimes against my better judgement: he has a lot of charm. He and Jude have made up their argument, but he’s still clearly jealous of his brother, which isn’t a nice trait, and he’s been totally fickle and heartless with Coco. I’m starting to feel a bit sorry for her, actually,’ I added.

  ‘But I thought you loathed her at first sight?’

  ‘I did. But the thing is, she’s twenty-four going on five years old and has clearly been Mummy and Daddy’s little princess all her life, so she can’t seem to cope with not getting her way in everything. She bursts into tears, or sulks. Michael and Noël are the only ones who’ve been really kind to her, because they’re both very soft-hearted. But now she’s showing signs of setting her sights on Michael, so he probably wishes he hadn’t been so nice!’

  ‘Oh?’ she said interestedly. ‘Does he fancy you instead, then?’

  I laughed. ‘No, not at all — and I’m sure Guy doesn’t either, though he tries to flirt with me. But Michael and I are getting to be good friends.’

  She sighed. ‘All these men and you don’t fancy a single one of them, not even a tiny bit?’

  ‘Don’t forget my real admirer, George.’

  ‘George?’

  ‘The slightly-weatherbeaten blond hunk of a farmer. He sent me a present today, a beautifully carved walking stick. Apparently it’s a great honour to be given one, though I suspect from something Liam let slip while driving me down to the lodge that he also hedged his bets by giving one to Oriel Comfort at the village shop, too.’

  ‘Do you really fancy him, then, Holly?’

  ‘A bit. . he’s very attractive in his way, but I can’t see myself as a farmer’s wife. Or anyone’s wife — not again. Been there, done that, and I’m not looking to find another husband, I’m just going to go it alone, as planned.’

  ‘You won’t be alone if you go ahead with the AI and it works,’ she pointed out. ‘Look, why not give it six months first, Holly? Go out with a few men and —’

  ‘I went out with Sam, and that didn’t work.’

  She sighed again. ‘Once, which is hardly giving it a chance, and you haven’t been out with anyone else, have you? If men show any interest, you back off.’
<
br />   ‘But not many of them do, or they’re not serious, like Guy, so you might as well give me up as a lost cause. I met my soulmate and losing him hurt too much to want to try again, even if I believed there was another Mr Right out there, which I don’t.’

  ‘You’re hopeless!’ she said, but affectionately. ‘The children loved their presents, by the way.’

  ‘So they should, when you told me exactly what they wanted!’

  ‘But I didn’t tell you what I wanted, and that was lovely too.’

  ‘Easy! I remembered when the saleswoman in Debenhams sprayed that perfume on your wrist and I thought you were never going to wash your arm again! And I adore my scarf, by the way — I’m wearing it now. Light but very warm.’

  ‘The family send their love and wish you were here with us.’

  ‘It’s probably better that I’m not, I’d only be a reminder that Alan wasn’t there.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, you know he’s always in our thoughts anyway, especially around this time of year. But we’ve accepted what happened and moved on with our lives, even though we miss him terribly — and since your gran died, I’m getting the feeling that you’re finally beginning to do the same.’

  ‘Yes, I realised I’d dealt with Alan’s death by closing the door on it, rather than properly grieving. But now I keep thinking of him and remembering the happy times we had, especially at Christmas.’

  ‘You were twice as brisk and bossy once you’d moved to the country and started working for Ellen, but now you sound much more like the old Holly, though with a bit of extra bite.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I expect being pitchforked into having to cope with Christmas has done you a power of good.’

  ‘You’re probably right, but I still feel guilty about forgetting the anniversary of Alan’s death.’

  ‘No, that was a very healthy sign and you shouldn’t feel guilty in the least.’

  ‘There’s so much to do every day at Old Place that I hardly have a minute to myself and certainly no time to brood over the past — or if I do, it’s over Gran’s past, because I’m dying to find out what happened.’