Christmas at Wynter House

by Emily Harvale

  Dennis appeared in the hall. 'Hello. Oh. You were-'

  'Yes, Dad. We've been through that. This is Sean Small. He owns the pub and he's brought us some supplies to tide us over till whatever has happened is sorted out.'

  'That's very kind of you, Sean. I'm Dennis. Dennis Grey. I expect we'll be seeing quite a bit of you. We'll no doubt be popping in and out of that pub of yours. We like a drink or two.'

  Sean raised his brows. 'Good to meet you, Dennis. And you'll be more than welcome anytime, night or day.'

  'We're not alcoholics,' Neva quipped. 'Although Dad's comment just now may have made you think we are.'

  Sean shrugged. 'You don't need to convince me. I couldn't care less either way.' He grinned at her.

  'I suppose I deserved that.' Throwing her own words back at her was rather clever. And a bit annoying. 'Thanks again for all this stuff. It really is very kind of you.'

  'It isn't. It was Rafe.'

  'I'm sorry?'

  'Rafe asked me to bring them to you.'

  Neva bristled. 'But he couldn't bring them himself? Do you usually run his errands?'

  Sean glared at her and she wished she could take that back. It sounded petty-minded and insulting even to her ears. But he seemed more amused than annoyed when he responded.

  'Yes. If he asks me to. And he does the same for me. That's what friends do. The reason he didn't come himself is because he's gone to meet someone from the power company. There's a tree down on his estate and it's brought a power line down with it. We think that's what's caused the problem but it should be fixed by the morning. Unless it's something more serious. Oh. And he asked me to apologise for any inconvenience and to tell you that you'll be refunded for tonight.'

  'That's very kind of him,' Dennis said.

  Neva frowned. 'Yes. I suppose it is.'

  'Right. Unless there's anything else, I'll get back to my pub. And my wife. Give me a shout if you need anything.' He turned to go outside but threw Neva a look over his shoulder and in a lower voice added, 'I'll pass on your thanks to Rafe then, shall I? And I'll let him know you were disappointed he didn't come in person.'

  Neva's mouth fell open. 'Disappointed? I've never been more thankful for anything in my life.'

  'Oh? That's not the impression I got.'

  He waved his hand in the air and marched off into the rain and the dark with only the beam of his torch to light his way.

  Chapter Seven

  Neva had the worst night's sleep, ever. Sean's words had stayed with her all evening and she had gone over and over her petty comments. And also what he had said about her being disappointed Rafe hadn't come in person. Did he think she wanted to see the obnoxious prig again? She'd just meant she was disappointed she couldn't be rude to his face. Although thinking of him as a prig made her smile. He did behave as if he were superior and he was definitely self-righteous.

  But he had asked his friend to bring them the lanterns, torches and candles and he had said he'd refund them for the night. That wasn't priggish at all. In fact, that was thoughtful and kind. For some absurd reason, that annoyed her all the more.

  Even when she and her family had decorated the Christmas tree by candle and lantern light, she couldn't stop thinking about how different Rafe was - or perhaps wasn't - from his brother.

  The lanterns, she was surprised to discover, had battery operated faux candles inside but when they were switched on, they gave such an authentic glow that none of them could tell the difference from the real thing.

  Using the playlists on her phone, they'd listened to Christmas songs while stringing the lights - which wouldn't work of course, until the power came back on, but that didn't matter. They sang along to Michael Bublé, danced to Michael Ball, who was one of Dawn's favourites, and tried to guess who half the singers were on a Christmas album from the 1990s that Neva couldn't recall downloading. By the time they had finished the tree, Neva's phone battery was as dead as they were exhausted. But it had been a lot of fun. And the tree looked beautiful even without the myriad coloured lights aglow.

  She and Rowan had drunk far too many Baileys and she had definitely eaten more mince pies and Christmas spiced iced biscuits than was wise. In fact another batch of iced biscuits would have to be made to hang on the tree, because between her and Sasha and Rowan, most of the two batches had been eaten during the evening.

  By 11 p.m. when they fell into their beds, she only mildly noticed the temperature had dropped considerably. The fire remained alight all night, as did the Aga in the kitchen, so the cottage was warm and cosy, but not quite as warm as it had been. Thankfully, there was a stockpile of logs in the log store in the garden.

  When Neva woke, she shivered. Getting out of bed and padding across the wood floor in her slippers, she peered outside and couldn't believe her eyes. Where yesterday and last night, the cobbled street had been awash with water and deep puddles, now it was covered in a sheet of ice.

  She glanced down the street towards the tree. Icicles hung from the branches like long diamond-droplets, glistening in the reflections of the multi-coloured lights, glowing in the twilight.

  That meant the power was back on.

  She ran to the light switch to check, and the bulb hanging from the centre of the ceiling beneath a shade which matched the curtains, cast a pale lemon circle on the floor and across the bed.

  She dashed to the bathroom and jumped in the shower, yawning all the way. She had dreamt she was at Wynter House, not as a paying visitor on the tour, but as a guest. Or maybe more. She had danced with Adam in the ballroom, the one she'd seen in the photo gallery on the website. She walked hand in hand with him through a secret garden. That one she hadn't seen in the photos. Her imagination had provided her with those images. She was happy in her dream. But a long shadow appeared and suddenly she was running. Running so fast she couldn't stop. Until she had woken with a start and shivered.

  She dressed quickly after her shower and, still yawning, went downstairs to find her mum and dad, Sasha and Tempest all eating breakfast in the kitchen.

  'Morning all. I see the power's back on. Yay!'

  'Morning, sweetheart.' Dawn blew her a kiss from her position in front of the Aga. 'It came on about 4 a.m. Your father and I woke up and found our bedside lamps were on. We must've forgotten to switch them off yesterday. We're all charging up our phones, just in case it goes off again. Would you like a cooked breakfast? It's bitterly cold outside.'

  'And extremely icy,' Dennis said. 'I took Tempest into the back garden for a quick pee and I almost fell over twice on the paved patio. I'm not sure we should go for that walk this morning. Not until the day warms up a bit at least.' He yawned suddenly. 'Good heavens, I'm tired. It must be this country air.'

  'Or all the excitement of yesterday,' Neva added, yawning too. 'Or possibly the champagne, sherry, brandy and Baileys we all consumed. I don't think any of us should drive anywhere today. So if we're not going for a walk, I guess it's a day in front of the fire, after all. Rowan will be pleased. Is she up yet?'

  'Fast asleep,' Sasha said. 'And Daddy is snoring like a piggy. Aren't we going to the waterfall?'

  'Probably not today, sweetie. We'll see what the weather does, shall we?'

  'We could go to the pub for lunch,' Dawn suggested. 'It may only be across the way but at least we'd technically be going out.'

  'Excellent idea.' Dennis nodded, yawning again. 'And after lunch, I might take a nap.'

  'I might join you,' Dawn said, rubbing her eyes.

  'You sit down, Mum. I'll cook my own breakfast.'

  'No, sweetheart. I'm fine. But thank you. I'm here and it'll just take a minute. You can make some more coffee though. Your father and I have drunk it all.'

  Neva made coffee and smiled at Sasha. 'Have you switched on the lights on the tree?'

  Sasha's head shot up. 'No.' She jumped off her chair and raced into the sitting room. Tempest chased after her.

  Once Sasha was out of earshot, Neva said, 'I'd still like to
go for a walk this morning, just to clear my head. I didn't sleep that well and I don't want to get a headache. Fresh air will do me good. But I don't want to take Sasha or Tempest if it's as slippery out there as you say. I'll have enough trouble staying on my own two feet without worrying about them.'

  Dennis smiled. 'We'll find something to entertain Sasha. But I wouldn't recommend going far. Make sure you charge your phone. And wrap up warm. It's truly bitter out.'

  'Thanks, Dad.'

  Neva plugged in her phone and poured them all more coffee. Dawn placed a full English breakfast in front of her, together with a round of toast.

  Neva laughed. 'If I get lost, this'll keep me going for at least a week. Thanks, Mum. And thanks again for my wonderful present. I still don't know how to thank you both.'

  'You haven't seen the place yet, sweetheart.' Dawn sat beside her. 'I do hope you like it. It would be so lovely to have you living close by. And between you, me and your father, we're hoping to convince Rowan and Nigel that Merriment Bay might be the perfect place for them and Sasha. And Tempest, of course.'

  'Oh Mum! That would be wonderful. But what about the business? You've just given it to them.'

  Dennis nodded. 'But it doesn't have to have its office in Surrey, or even the yard. Many of our clients are scattered all over the country. Yes, we get a lot of local work, but there's also a lot of competition these days and recently our prices have been undercut several times. If Rowan and Nigel sold their house and bought in Merriment Bay, they'd have cash in the bank for years to come. And they could generate new leads down here while continuing to work for our current clients. We're hoping that, assuming you do like the salon and are happy to move down, they'll see how lovely Merriment Bay is after a few visits and may start the ball rolling without us having to suggest it.'

  'About that, Dad. I've got money coming from my share of the flat in London. I'm happy to put that towards the cost of the salon and the flat in Merriment Bay.'

  'No, no. You keep that in the bank. Or use it to travel, or do the things you've always wanted. Or you may decide to rent the flat out above the salon and buy a little house. Obviously, that's your choice entirely. Seriously, thanks to the ridiculous prices of homes in Surrey, we've made more money than we ever thought possible and with that and our pensions, we'll have plenty to last us for the rest of our days.'

  Sasha raced back in. 'The lights are so pretty. You must come and look!' She dashed off again.

  'We'll be right there,' Dawn said. She smiled at Neva. 'Eat your breakfast, then pop your head in and see the lights and after that, we'll distract Sasha and you can nip out the door.'

  Which is exactly what Neva did. She went upstairs and put on a second jumper. If it was as cold out there as her dad had said, she'd rather be too warm than freeze to death. She headed back downstairs, popped her head around the door and admired the lights, smiling as Sasha shook one present after another from under the tree to guess what was inside. Then she crept along the hall, slipped her walking boots on, grabbed her jacket, scarf and gloves and headed quietly out the front door.

  The cold hit her immediately, making her gasp. It actually made her face hurt; as if tiny arrows of ice were being shot into her cheeks. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. But the sky was now an icy blue with just a scattering of puffy white clouds, and a pale lemon sun fanned out its rays across the roofs. If it weren't for the cold, it would be a glorious day. Especially after all that rain yesterday.

  She glanced down to the river. Was she imagining it? Were her eyes deceiving her? Was the water higher than it had been? She was sure she couldn't see the water when she stood on this very spot yesterday afternoon. But had she really looked?

  Her dad was right. The pavement was icy and the cobbled street was now just like a sheet of slippery glass. She stayed on the pavement and edged her way down towards the footpath they had been on yesterday, although she would be heading in the other direction, against the flow of the river and up to Wyntersleap Falls.

  The water was definitely higher. There was barely any bank visible now. Where Rafe had lain just fifteen or so hours ago, was completely under water. Should she be worried?

  Yesterday, Rafe and Sean were standing on the bridge looking at the river. Were they concerned about it rising? The distance between the riverbank and the cottages wasn't very great. If there was more rain, would the river be lapping at the doors?

  So much for a cosy cottage in an idyllic village setting.

  She made it to the footpath and oddly enough, it wasn't nearly as icy as the pavement had been. Perhaps because the pale winter sunlight was melting the ice along here. The street was sheltered and the sun hadn't reached the ground there yet.

  She turned left just before the bridge and as she walked, she grew more accustomed to the cold. Hedges, shrubs and in places, trees, separated the footpath from the bank of the river and birds darted about above her as if in a hurry to get back to somewhere warm. A robin appeared on a fence post to her left and repeated its friendly song, tipping its head from side to side and flicking its tail as she closed the gap between them. Her foot slipped from under her on an icy patch she had failed to spot and as she reached out and grabbed at the fence, the robin sounded as if it was chuckling; the loud trill now a continuous flow, until it flew off and left her alone.

  Was that thunder in the distance? She steadied herself before deciding to continue. She got drenched yesterday. Why should today be any different?

  She followed the path across the fields as it wound its way through gaps in the hedges and she clambered over rickety wooden stiles. All the while, the thunder grew louder. It was only when she came through one hedge out into the open and looked ahead that she discovered it wasn't thunder. Certainly not the thunder she had thought. It was the torrent of water from Wyntersleap Falls.

  The sight of them took her breath away. Even from the distance of half a mile or so they were pretty impressive. And just a little frightening. She had seen waterfalls on TV but this was the first she'd seen in real life and the sheer power was mesmerising. The drop looked to be around fifty feet but it was difficult to tell from where she was.

  She walked towards them and the sound was deafening; more so when she finally stopped ten feet or so from the edge of the pool, which was just a few feet below her and a frantic swirl of water - a whirlpool of currents. It was a good thing Tempest hadn't fallen in there. Even Rafe Wynter might not have been able to save her.

  She was tempted to get closer but fear, or possibly common sense, held her back. Water was sloshing over the sides onto the rocky surrounds and as she glanced back along the river she saw that even that lapped at the edges of the bank, close to the hedges and greenery, the other side of which was the footpath where she had walked.

  She turned and started back the way she came. It was only four more sleeps till Christmas and one day of her holiday had already gone. But her mum and dad's generosity had solved so many of her concerns and she couldn't believe her luck.

  She had wondered where she was going to live. That problem was now solved. Assuming she liked the flat. And why wouldn't she? Her mum and dad had similar tastes to her and they would never choose a place for her to live that they wouldn't be more than happy to live in themselves, so she had no concerns on that score. That issue could be ticked off her list.

  She had wondered whether to start her new venture in London, or to move somewhere new. That could also be ticked off the list.

  The last part was a bit tricky. She had said she needed to sort out her life and decide what else she wanted to do. She was by no means jealous of Jo. Rob was nice but she didn't fancy him and he definitely wasn't the type of man she would ever fall in love with. But in a way, she did envy Jo's steady relationship. That was something Neva wanted in the future. A stable, loving relationship with a man she could respect and trust and love with all her heart. She wanted what her sister had. But again. She didn't want a man like Nigel either.

  The p
roblem was, she didn't really know what type of man she wanted, other than one who was loyal, loving and kind. He must like animals. And children. He must have a career or at least a job he enjoyed. A sense of humour was compulsory. Good looks would be nice but weren't a necessity. And hair colour, height and physique were all negotiable. If he was a little overweight, that was fine. But he must be relatively fit. She liked walking and wanted a man to do that with. Someone to hold her hand. Someone to share a walk like this.

  Someone like Adam Wynter.

  Adam Wynter was definitely her type. She could happily spend a lifetime with a man like him. She knew nothing about him, that was true, but the thrill she had felt the moment she saw him was very real indeed. Had she fallen in love at first sight? Not really. But it happened to some people. It had happened to a few of her former clients.

  Mrs Neva Wynter. She liked the sound of that.

  A noise like the snapping of a twig made her start and she glanced around her.

  Where was she? She seemed to have veered off the path and was on another one she didn't recognise from earlier.

  'Please don't tell me you've lost them again.'

  Her head whipped round to where the voice had come from and she tilted back her head. On a small hill, not more than twenty feet away, stood a man with broad shoulders and dark brown hair. Was it Adam? The sun was in her eyes and she couldn't see his face but the voice was familiar. Deep but soft and sexy. Her heart sank as the man stepped forward and she saw who it was.

  'Who?' She stuck out her chin and shoved her shoulders back.

  Rafe Wynter walked towards her, brushing a gloveless hand against the hedge as if it were an animal he was stroking.

  'Your daughter and your dog.'

  'As I don't have either, the answer to that is, no. Sasha's not my daughter. She's my niece. And Tempest belongs to her.'