I looked at him with surprise and then laughed. ‘Do you mean me? Michael and I are becoming good friends, but there’s no attraction between us of any other kind. Strange as it may seem to you, I’m perfectly happy single.’
‘Me too,’ Michael said, coming in just in time to overhear the last sentence. ‘I wish someone would tell Coco that!’
Guy grinned and went back to the others and I said to Michael, ‘I think it’s mean how Jude and Guy keep throwing you and Coco together, just because they’re tired of her. They hope chasing you will keep her amused.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve been pursued before, not to sound too immodest — and she’s not my type. But I’m looking on it as a sort of price to be paid for being made so welcome here over Christmas, the unexpected guest.’
‘I wouldn’t say Jude seems to be making you very welcome!’
‘I think he has his reasons,’ Michael said with a smile. ‘Just as I suspect Guy is flirting with you partly to wind his brother up — though that’s not to say that he doesn’t find you attractive, too, because I can tell he does.’
‘I can’t see why Jude would care if Guy did get off with me. But it isn’t going to happen, even if Guy is under the delusion he can twist me round his little finger if he turns on the charm enough.’
‘We’ll just have to keep rescuing each other if we get cornered,’ suggested Michael.
‘Aren’t you two ever coming back into the sitting room?’ Jess asked, appearing in the doorway still wearing her jewelled crown. ‘I’m bored again!’
‘Just finished,’ I said, putting the mugs on the tray to carry through, along with some Parmesan twists and little bowls of nuts and olives.
Jess came right into the kitchen and directed an interrogative stare at Michael. ‘Michael, do you fancy Holly? Only Guy and George and Uncle Jude do.’
‘Jess!’ I exclaimed.
‘No,’ he answered gravely, ‘I think she’s a really nice person and I hope we’ll always be good friends, but I don’t fancy her in the least.’
‘Oh good, that’s exactly what I thought,’ she said, her brow clearing. ‘She doesn’t really like Uncle Guy that much, I can tell, and George is way, way, too old. So that just leaves Uncle Jude, doesn’t it?’
‘To do what?’ asked Jude, bringing in a tray full of dirty glasses — all lovely old lead crystal ones that would need hand-washing.
‘Oh, we were only discussing who’s got a sweet tooth,’ I said quickly. ‘Jess, do you want me to show you how to make instant microwave meringues and chocolate cake in a mug?’
‘What, now?’ she asked. ‘Isn’t it too late?’
‘Not really — it only takes a few minutes. Then you can eat them before you go to bed.’
‘Great,’ she said. ‘I wish you were always here, Holly — don’t you, Uncle Jude?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, sombrely regarding me. ‘She’s a bit like an irritating speck of grit in an oyster, and I’m not sure if she’s going to turn into a pearl or not.’
If Michael and Jess are right, and Jude is a little bit attracted to me, it sounds as if he really doesn’t want to be — and I feel exactly the same way about him!
Chapter 32
Puzzle Pieces
Mr Bowman is a sweet, kindly man and, though I knew he would be deeply grieved by my story, I hoped he might also find it in his heart to give me some measure of forgiveness and understanding.
June, 1945
Gran’s story has turned terribly sad, but of course I now see where it’s all heading and feel so glad that someone as nice as my grandfather rescued her! But no wonder she was so reserved and totally buttoned up after that!
However, though I can guess the outcome, I’m determined not to jump ahead to the last entries, but read it in order, even though after her decision to go and see the minister she spent three more whole pages in examining the state of her conscience and the depth of her guilt in such exhaustive depth it eventually sent me to sleep.
This morning, after I’d let Merlin out and given the horses a bit of carrot each, I came back in to put the kettle on, only to find Jude already in the kitchen dressed in old jeans and a navy sweater ready for action, sitting by the table putting on his socks.
‘Do you think you could rescue my other wellie sock from Jess some time and remove the pink ribbon?’ he asked, looking up. ‘This is my only other pair and they’re going through at the heels.’
‘Okay, unless you’d prefer me to sew matching ribbon to the other, instead?’
‘Perhaps not,’ he said and then went off saying he was going to replenish the logs in the cellar from the ones in the wood store outside, because we’d got through an awful lot and the next ones could be drying out.
Later he cleaned the ashes from the sitting-room fire before going back out to see to the horse: these were all the sort of jobs I was only too happy to relinquish to him. Well, except looking after Lady: I enjoy spending time with her now.
When I’d fed Merlin I consulted my menus and schedule for the day, so that by the time he returned from the stables, I was well on the way to getting some turkey and ham pies in the oven.
He proved useful for making cups of tea while I was working and then he sat in a chair by the Aga out of the way with a sketchbook, his eyes following me around the room as I made a tray of mincemeat flapjacks and then cast a few fresh additions into the bubbling soup pot.
Now that I knew the way Jude’s eyes followed me round the room was just an impersonal artistic scrutiny, it didn’t really bother me at all. In fact, I kept forgetting he was there and carrying on like I always did when alone — talking to Merlin as I tossed him the odd scrap and, I expect, occasionally singing. I suppose I get almost as engrossed in my work as he does in his.
‘There we are,’ I said eventually, ticking a couple more things off the day’s schedule, ‘just breakfast to get ready now.’
‘Do you get up and go on like this early every morning?’ he asked curiously.
‘I do when I’ve got a house-party job. When it’s house-sitting, of course, I just see to the pets, or plants, or whatever I’m keeping an eye on, then the day is my own,’ I said pointedly. ‘When I’m cooking, though, I find it best to plan the menus and schedule in advance to make it all so much easier later.’
‘I feel really guilty now, especially since you keep saying you won’t accept any extra money. I’ll have to think of some other way of thanking you for all this hard work.’
‘So you said. But don’t bother, because I volunteered to do it — though of course, I didn’t know it would be double the number of people I originally invited.’
He put his sketchbook away and helped me to cook the breakfast which, as I said to him, seemed to be the one meal he could put together without a microwave.
‘You obviously haven’t found my secret cache of microwave all-in-one all-day frozen breakfasts yet, then,’ he said sardonically. ‘Though you can talk, after teaching Jess how to make microwave desserts last night!’
‘I’m not against microwaves, it’s just what you do with them. The meringues and cake are a short cut, but also fun. And now they have the Tilda seal of approval.’
‘They have my seal of approval too, come to that and, by the way, I expect you down at the studio again after lunch.’
‘I thought you’d finished with me yesterday?’
‘No, don’t you remember? I said I wanted to make a maquette or two next.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t think you’d need me for that. And it’s Sunday, so another early cooked dinner — cold cuts, roast potatoes and vegetables. I must raid Henry’s carrot store, I gave the last to the horses. Oh, and pudding will be frozen Arctic Roll, specially requested by Noël. It has to be one of your favourites, too, because there are six in the freezer.’
‘It is,’ he admitted, ‘but strange as it may seem, I like it with lots of hot custard poured over it.’
‘Well, that can be arranged, even if it does
seem weird. But then, I suppose Baked Alaska is a bit odd, too.’
‘I expect Richard will hold a short church service today, seeing the regular vicar won’t be able to get through,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Guy can take Becca, Noël and Tilda down in my Land Rover if they want to go, which they probably will, and stay in the pub until he brings them back. Coco and Michael could go with him, so long as he doesn’t let Coco get drunk again.’
‘I’d quite like to go to the pub,’ I said wistfully, ‘but I’d better stay here and get dinner ready instead.’
‘I’m afraid they’re bound to bring Old Nan and Richard back with them,’ he said apologetically. ‘And did anyone tell you that they always come on New Year’s Eve for dinner too? They can be more audience for the revived Twelfth Night readings.’
‘No-one tells the cook anything. But two more won’t put me out unduly. There’s soup to start with, loads of turkey and ham, and I’ll do a few extra vegetables.’
‘I think there’s still a jar or two of Mrs Jackson’s fruit chutney in the larder,’ he said.
‘There is and I brought some of my own apricot chutney, too.’
I could hear people stirring in the house now — the clank of the water pipes, the creaking of old floorboards and, not least, the unmistakable thump of Jess’s feet as she ran across the landing and galloped down the wooden stairs.
‘Everyone’s about to appear — and these sausages are done, so I’m off to the studio,’ Jude said, handing the tongs to me. ‘Tell Guy about church and the Land Rover. I’ll see you later — and I’m not coming back for lunch so bring me something to eat.’
‘Yes, boss,’ I said sarcastically, and that totally transforming smile lit his face again for an instant: then one blink and it was gone — and so was he.
Later Guy, Coco and Michael all managed to squeeze into Jude’s Land Rover along with the church party, including a mutinous Jess who would rather have gone to the pub. Noël said they would come back up with George, who he was sure wouldn’t mind giving them a lift in his larger vehicle, along with Old Nan and the Vicar.
It looked a bit uncomfortably sardine-like, even though Jess and Coco didn’t take up much room and Tilda is the size of your average fairy. Becca is pretty substantial in the beam end, though. Once they were in, the windows immediately fogged up and Guy leaned across Coco and cranked down the passenger side.
‘You can phone your mum and see if your father is feeling better yet, Coco,’ I suggested and she looked at me blankly.
‘Why? It doesn’t matter if he is, because it’s too late. My engagement is totally over.’
‘And not even a Birkin bag to go back to,’ Guy commiserated and she flushed angrily.
‘I hate you, Guy Martland!’
He ignored her and instead said invitingly to me, ‘Sure you won’t come? You can sit on my lap.’
‘No thanks, I need to sort out early dinner,’ I said, though actually, now it came to it, I rather fancied a bit of time to myself, too.
And it was bliss. I had a quick tidy through the house, plumping up the cushions in the sitting room and pausing to put a few more pieces in the jigsaw puzzle. I can’t imagine why it was taking everyone so long to finish, and I know it annoys Guy when he finds I’ve had a go, but there’s something quite irresistible about a large jigsaw, isn’t there? Oriel was right.
After that I retired to the kitchen with my laptop and updated the notes for my cookbook with things that I’d tried and tested over Christmas, talked to Merlin and then went out with him for a little walk up the track.
A skin of ice had formed on the water trough in the paddock, and I broke that into jagged pieces like clear toffee and hooked them out onto the ground, before we left. Lady was pawing the snow to expose the grass beneath, ignoring the haynet, but Billy was up on his hind legs against the fence having a good go at the bottom of it and Nutkin was thoughtfully chewing a mouthful from further up.
There hadn’t been any fresh snow for ages, so perhaps the worst was over and soon it would start to thaw? Then I, and the rest of the uninvited and unwanted members of the party, could leave. .
Somehow, that was no longer quite such an enticing thought.
The Little Mumming expedition returned in two Land Rovers, the pub party fairly merry, especially Coco. Still, Michael had at least remembered my request to bring back yet more sherry supplies for the elder members of the party, who were getting through it at a surprising rate.
George helped Tilda, Noël and Old Nan out of his Land Rover, though Richard and Becca jumped down unassisted from Guy’s, being still pretty spry. Then he rounded them all up and drove them into the house, a bit like a friendly but worried sheepdog.
I took the chance to thank him for his lovely present and he beamed and in turn thanked me for mine.
‘Won’t you come in?’ I asked.
‘Only as far as the mistletoe — if you insist!’ he said meaningfully, and winked at me — and for a minute, I admit I was quite tempted!
‘Oh, it fell down, so we had to put it in a vase,’ Jess said very quickly, appearing suddenly by my side like a sombre Jack-inthe-box. Tilda had dragooned her into a short black dress over tights for church, though she’d completed the outfit with big black lace-up boots and a long coat. ‘You can’t stand under it any more,’ she added, ‘so it doesn’t count.’
‘Pity,’ he said good-humouredly, though now he was close enough I’d spotted the faint imprint of a perfect lipstick bow on one of his lean, pink cheeks in an odd raspberry shade that reminded me of Oriel, so he’d obviously been spreading his net wide again.
But he didn’t go away totally disappointed, because I fetched one of the turkey and ham pies from the kitchen wrapped in tinfoil to take home for him and Liam. He opened the corner of the foil to look at it, and I thought he was going to go down on his knees in the snow and propose right there and then.
‘What’s he got that I haven’t?’ demanded Guy as he drove off.
‘Sincerity?’ I suggested.
I’d laid the table for Sunday dinner in the dining room, which was easier than the kitchen for such a large party, and then afterwards I cleared up and left them in the sitting room with coffee, sherry, mincemeat flapjacks and the last remnants of the Christmas cake, while I changed into leggings and tunic jumper and took a Red Riding Hood basket of lunch down to the studio, accompanied by Merlin this time.
I didn’t go straight there, though: first I walked on a bit past the lodge so I could update Laura on my suddenly becoming an artist’s model.
‘It’s weird, because he stares at me while he’s drawing, but it’s sort of impersonal. Not that he doesn’t keep looking at me at other times too — Michael and Jess are convinced he fancies me.’
‘How do you know he’s staring, unless you keep looking at him?’ she asked astutely.
‘He is a bit hard to ignore when he’s in the same room,’ I admitted. ‘In fact, he’s a bit hard to ignore when he’s in the same house: the atmosphere sort of changes.’
‘Hmmm. .’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps he does fancy you?’
‘He might a bit, but having been widowed and then jilted, I don’t actually think he wants to — and anyway, he still thinks I’m up to something.’
‘You are, in a way — trying to find out the truth about your gran,’ she said. ‘And I think you’re more attracted by Jude than you’re admitting, because you’re afraid of falling in love again, too!’
‘A bit of physical attraction is neither here nor there! He’s not my type and, going by Coco, I’m not his! It’s really embarrassing playing Viola to Jude’s Orsino, though,’ I said, and gave her a graphic description of our play-acting.
‘Michael is Sebastian, my twin brother, so he gets off with Coco as Olivia in the end, but desperately wishes he didn’t, poor man. He’d feel much safer with me. But at least the play’s keeping Coco fairly amused. She managed to lock herself in an attic earlier today and had a panic attack, and I seiz
ed the moment to give her a talking to about her laxative consumption and confiscated most of them.’
‘Wasn’t that a bit high-handed?’
‘It was for her own good. If the snow doesn’t thaw soon, I might even get a bit of meat on her bones and colour in her cheeks before she goes home.’
‘So I take it there’s still no chance of escape yet?’
‘No, but in any case, I don’t think Jude would let me go until he’s finished with me.’
‘That sounds. . dodgy. But interesting.’
‘As a model in the studio, idiot!’
I’d made Jude a sort of hot chopped-up version of the roast turkey dinner, like giant toddler food, and put it in one of the wide-mouthed Thermos flasks from the kitchen to keep it hot.
One good thing about him is that even with half his mind on his work, he still appreciates my cooking. I shared the flask of coffee, sitting next to him with a certain quiet companionship on the wooden model’s dais while he ate it.
Merlin sat between us, alternately leaning first against me, then Jude, then back again, and sighing a lot.
‘What’s the matter with this stupid dog?’ Jude asked eventually, puzzled.
‘Conflict of loyalties, I think. He feels he should be with you, but he doesn’t really want to leave me. Ideally, he’d like us both to stay in the same place all the time.’
‘But I notice when it comes to the crunch, he more often follows you than me.’
‘Yes,’ I admitted, ‘but he’ll forget all about me when I’m gone. I am going to really miss him, though!’
I put one arm around Merlin and gave him a hug.
Jude watched me with an absent expression I was becoming familiar with and said, ‘Hmmm. . must do some sketches of you two later. But first, back to work again — I’m making an armature to support the sculpture. The maquettes are on that table over there, if you want to see.’
He got up and went back to constructing something substantial and vaguely horse- and human-shaped in bent metal rods, pushed into a large hollow support on a fixed base.
Twelve Days of Christmas Page 31
