The Christmas Invitation

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘I suspect that’s because she’s realized that though she might have lost Mark, she still has a bird in the hand with Rollo.’

  ‘You think she’s going to set her sights on him, now?’

  ‘He’s dependent on her at the moment. He can’t escape, even if he wants to,’ I pointed out. ‘But good luck to her. I’m starting to think she could even cope with his ghastly mother, too. Clash of the Titans.’

  After a few minutes of wall scraping I said, ‘I did feel worried about Zelda falling for Mark, when he seems so quick to switch from one girl to another.’

  ‘So did I,’ Lex admitted. ‘But she seems to know what she’s doing – and that’s rearranging Mark’s plans for Underhill to suit their future life together, just the way she wants it!’

  I laughed. ‘Including the winters in Italy and skiing! You know, I think they’re made for each other.’

  We set to again with the scrapers and there’s something very satisfying about peeling off long damp tendrils of old wallpaper, several layers deep, to reveal the plaster beneath … even if it was the bedroom of the person I suspected had tried to kill me.

  That was a bizarre thought.

  On the way back to the Red House, Lex suddenly surprised me by saying, ‘There’s been something on your mind all morning, hasn’t there? You were looking very oddly at Sybil at breakfast, too.’

  ‘Was I? I was trying not to look at her.’ I paused, then made up my mind to tell him, even if he thought I was mad.

  ‘Remember at dinner last night, when we were talking about Sybil’s perfume? It’s overpoweringly distinctive, isn’t it? I knew I’d noticed that scent before.’

  ‘Yes, you said – at the Gathering.’

  ‘I assumed that was it, but when I woke this morning I realized that I’d found it unsettling because I connected it with that moment when I nearly went off the ledge.’

  He pulled into a passing place and turned to stare incredulously at me. ‘You mean … ?’

  ‘Yes, I really am sure now that I was pushed and, however ridiculous it seems, I think Sybil did it.’

  ‘But why on earth would old Syb try to kill you?’ he said blankly.

  ‘I don’t really know, unless it was just a sudden impulse when she saw me standing there alone in the dark.’

  ‘That’s not exactly a reason,’ he pointed out. ‘When I spotted you, there was no one remotely near.’

  ‘She could have slipped away quickly, and she was wearing a dark blue ski jacket and trousers.’

  He looked frowningly at me, as if I might indeed be mad, so I said, ‘I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and I think she still saw me as a threat to Mark’s inheritance, even if she was putting a good face on it. But afterwards, at the Gathering, she noticed Mark was …’

  ‘All over you like a rash?’ he finished.

  ‘Something like that. So then she got the misguided idea that he was seriously interested in me, and of course, if we were to get married, that would make his position safe.’

  ‘But it’s all so far-fetched! I mean, even if you or your mum made a claim, there’s no guarantee you’d get anything,’ he said.

  ‘Neither Mum nor I would dream of doing that anyway. I’m happy to have found out about my heritage, but it doesn’t mean they feel like family – or not Sybil and Mark. Henry and Clara do, and I’m very attached to Teddy.’

  ‘And do I feel like family?’

  ‘No, not in the least,’ I said frankly.

  ‘Good,’ he replied enigmatically, and pulled out into the lane again.

  He was frowning. ‘I don’t know if I believe it or not, but I think I should tell Clara and Henry what you suspect,’ he said, to my dismay.

  ‘Oh, please don’t tell them, Lex! Let’s just forget it.’

  ‘You can’t simply forget attempted murder. And what about Zelda?’

  ‘But Zelda isn’t a threat, is she?’ I said, astonished. ‘In fact, Sybil seems fond of her and I don’t see why she should mind if she and Mark get together. It might have been different if it was Flora.’

  ‘I suppose that’s true. I’d still like to run the whole idea past Clara and Henry, though, and see what they think.’

  ‘I don’t want anything to spoil Christmas. It’s bad enough Piers having to be invited for dinner, isn’t it? I can’t imagine he’ll be able to leave before then.’

  ‘No, we’re stuck with the old soak. Or rather, Flora is.’

  He gave me a sideways grin that made him look suddenly and heart-wrenchingly like the old, carefree student Lex from long ago.

  ‘But Nanny Flora will sort him out and probably keep him in line during Christmas dinner, too!’

  When we got back the house was quiet.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ asked Lex, when we found Tottie sitting in the kitchen over a cup of coffee, while the three dogs snored in their baskets by the range and Teddy industriously blobbed glitter glue on a sheet of card at the other end of the table.

  ‘Clara had emails to answer and then she was going to do some work, and Henry is printing out the final version of his book.’

  ‘I thought I heard the sound of a printer as we were coming in, but I assumed it was Clara’s,’ I said.

  ‘Sybil came back from Bella Vista with a headache that turned into a very bad migraine, so she’s taken some pills and gone to her room, and River and Henry delivered the mail and then called in on the Bagginses.’

  ‘River’s just gone to do some wrapping,’ Teddy said, looking up. ‘Do you think he bought me a present at Preciousss?’

  ‘I don’t know. We don’t usually do Christmas presents, but he might.’

  ‘I like River and I’m making him this picture for Christmas. It’s a dragon, sitting on the Starstone.’

  ‘So I see – he’ll love it.’

  ‘Me and Den and Tottie made the chocolate log this morning and iced the Boxing Day Christmas cake,’ Teddy said, and when he’d finished his picture he insisted we go into the larder to admire them.

  The large chocolate log was covered in dark butter cream, artfully scraped into bark-like patterns and adorned with holly and a plastic robin. The cake had been royal-iced, whipped into little peaks like rough plastering and studded with random plastic decorations – a red postbox, a bristly fir tree, a little snow-covered house and a signpost pointing to ‘Merry Christmas’.

  ‘Lovely,’ I said. ‘And what’s this in the big glass bowl?’

  ‘The base for the special trifle we’ll have on Christmas Day,’ said Tottie. ‘Madeira sponge spread with raspberry jam and soaked in a little sherry, then covered in a layer of raspberry jelly – vegetarian, of course.’

  ‘I’ve got to help Den cook lots of things tomorrow,’ said Teddy.

  ‘Yes, he’ll be baking cheese straws and other nibbles ready for the Boxing Day bash,’ Tottie said, then added that she would be in the conservatory when I was ready to paint her.

  I popped upstairs to change first, because I was sure I smelled of old, damp wallpaper. On my way down I noticed that River’s door was ajar and I peeped in. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed with his eyes shut and the room smelled faintly of burnt herbs and joss sticks. He opened his eyes and smiled.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Meg. Just the person I want. I have purchased a few small things from dear Moonflower. When in Rome, do as the Romans – and the Doomes exchange gifts on Christmas morning.’

  ‘That was a kind thought,’ I said, and fetched him the leftover wrapping paper and my Sellotape. The gifts were all contained in one of Flower’s smaller brown carrier bags, so goodness knows what he’d bought.

  I debated telling him my suspicions about Sybil, but since he liked her so much I hesitated, and then in the end I didn’t.

  Tottie was waiting for me in the conservatory and through a gap in the foliage I spotted Lex and Teddy going down the garden to clean out the hens.

  I hoped Lex had thought better of telling my wild suspicions to Henry and Clara.
/>   Tottie took up her pose, holding the now empty wicker cornucopia – the fruit, vegetables and leaves were almost completed, but the wicker itself needed a few touches. The pineapple, seemingly poised above her head, looked just about ripe enough to eat.

  Tottie’s face had come together amazingly quickly yesterday and I’d already worked on some of the background. This, I thought, might be my fastest portrait yet!

  Her expression had turned dreamy and absent again and at one point she murmured, ‘Snake’s head fritillary …’

  It was some time before I surfaced again and the garden was empty, the daylight fading into darkness.

  ‘I think it’s finished, Tottie,’ I said.

  She came over to look, stretching as she did so. ‘I look quite exotic, don’t I?’ she said, in a pleased voice.

  ‘You were the perfect sitter,’ I told her. Then she pottered off in the direction of the garden hall while I moved the easel and my painting gear back into the studio, and propped the portrait up to have a good look.

  Three portraits, all – even if it sounded immodest of me to say so – very good. I’d produced my best work here and I knew who I really, really wanted to paint next.

  Lex.

  I tracked him down to the kitchen, where he was with River and Teddy, making what River always calls God’s Eyes: odds and ends of coloured wool woven on to a frame of sticks.

  Pansy woke up and hurtled towards me as if she hadn’t seen me for a week, yipping round my ankles till I picked her up.

  ‘We’ll have to clear up soon,’ said River. ‘It’s not long till tea. Cheese scones, they just want warming.’

  ‘Lex,’ I said abruptly to him, ‘can I paint you next?’

  He looked up at me for a moment, seeming slightly surprised and then said, ‘Of course. When do you want to start?’

  ‘Tomorrow … though perhaps we could set the pose now? I seem to be on a roll after not being able to paint for so long and I just want to keep on going.’

  ‘All right, just let me wash this glue off my hands and I’ll come to the studio.’

  When he joined me, I’d arranged the dais and chair the way I wanted them.

  He stopped dead in front of the old easel on which I’d placed Tottie’s portrait and said admiringly, ‘Wow! You’re right, you really are on a roll. All three portraits are brilliant.’

  ‘I think I’m doing my best work here and though I usually do paint quickly, here it’s been fantastically fast.’

  ‘Let’s hope mine doesn’t break your run of success, then,’ he said with a grin. ‘Where do you want me?’

  I suppressed the unsettling image that popped into my head and said, ‘On the dais – if you could just go and sit down, I can fiddle with the lighting a bit.’

  I’d already put a fresh canvas on my easel – I’d soon run out of large ones at this rate – and thought I’d draw straight on to it. I’d already done a small sketch of him anyway, without him knowing, as a gift for Clara …

  He sat in the tall, carved chair looking as if it had been made for him. He’d taken off his green fleece in the kitchen and one arm, in a loose white shirtsleeve, lay along the padded armrest, his hand, with its long, mobile fingers, relaxed.

  I studied the pose, angling the lights. ‘I like the white of that shirt you’re wearing and the way your throat rises from the open neck …’

  ‘I’m flattered.’

  ‘To paint,’ I said pointedly. I rearranged the drapes behind him, but it needed something more.

  ‘I wonder if Clara would let me borrow the totem pole from her study. If it was turned so that the hawk head was just behind yours, I think that would give me what I need.’

  ‘The beak echoing the curve of my big hooter, you mean?’

  ‘It’s not a big hooter, it’s a very fine aquiline nose, like Clara’s. But yes, one shape echoed by the other.’

  ‘I’ll go and ask her, if she’s in the study,’ he offered, and came back a few minutes later, carrying the heavy wooden post as if it weighed nothing. He arranged it as I directed until I was satisfied and had taken a few pictures of him sitting in front of it.

  ‘There,’ I said, ‘that will do for today.’

  ‘Then if you’re done, Clara and Henry want us to go into the drawing room before tea.’

  I looked at him with sudden suspicion. ‘You’ve snitched about Sybil, haven’t you?’

  ‘I have told them, yes. It seemed the best thing to do. Come on.’

  36

  Tryst Issues

  ‘There you are, darlings,’ said Clara, when we went into the drawing room. ‘Sybil hadn’t stirred when I looked in on her, and Tottie and River are in the morning room with Teddy, watching an old film, so with luck we won’t be disturbed for a little while.’

  I must have looked worried because Henry smiled at me encouragingly. ‘Lex told us after the Solstice that you’d thought at first you’d been pushed off the ledge, then decided you’d imagined it.’

  ‘Yes, because who would do that? It just seemed so improbable.’

  ‘But I shouldn’t think you could really mistake the feeling of being pushed for even the strongest gust of wind,’ Clara said. ‘So Henry and I are inclined to believe you.’

  ‘I thought she’d imagined it, but when she said about Sybil’s perfume earlier, I started to wonder,’ Lex said.

  ‘You explained everything very clearly, darling,’ Clara told him. ‘And I’m afraid Meg might be right. Sybil’s horrified reaction when we told her who Meg was quite took us by surprise. It had never crossed our minds till that moment that she and Mark would be worried Meg and her mother would make a claim on the estate!’

  ‘At the Gathering, Mark certainly made me think he wasn’t worried about it any more – or about Meg being his first cousin,’ Lex said drily.

  ‘He was rather smitten with her at the time, wasn’t he?’ Henry agreed.

  ‘The trouble is, Sybil noticed it and suddenly got it into her head that Mark and I were serious about each other and that our marriage would make everything right,’ I said.

  ‘Her assumptions seem to have been a little premature, to say the least,’ Clara said. ‘It certainly isn’t you he’s got his eye on now, is it?’

  ‘Most definitely not, and Sybil’s noticed, too.’

  ‘You’d have to be blind to miss it,’ Lex pointed out. ‘He and Zelda have hardly taken their eyes off each other since she got here.’

  ‘It still seems very bizarre that Sybil should attempt to get rid of Meg in such a dramatic fashion,’ Henry said.

  I thought that that was the understatement of the year.

  ‘Only to realize shortly afterwards – though mistakenly, as it turned out – that there was a better way to neutralize her,’ he continued.

  ‘Nicely put, Henry,’ applauded Clara. ‘I believe Meg’s story and I think we must accept that Sybil was the culprit, however unlikely it seems.’

  ‘Though we have noticed that she’s looked very stressed, lately,’ said Henry.

  ‘Yes, so perhaps that night the darkness and the strange rites might have combined with her fears into some kind of nightmare scenario, and when the opportunity presented itself to get rid of Meg, she acted,’ suggested Clara.

  ‘A moment of temporary insanity, which she probably instantly regretted,’ Henry finished.

  ‘Meg would have regretted it even more, had she fallen right over,’ Lex said drily.

  I shivered. ‘It was a horrible experience. Thank goodness you spotted me, Lex.’

  ‘But what are we going to do? That’s the question,’ said Henry.

  ‘Oh, nothing!’ I said. ‘I mean, there’s no actual proof, is there? She could just deny it and then everything would be very uncomfortable.’

  ‘Hmm …’ said Clara. ‘I’m a great believer in having things out in the open, as you know, so that goes against the grain. Though I do think something’s been going on with Sybil for a while.’

  ‘A kind of midlife
crisis, perhaps?’ suggested Henry. ‘Piers seems to exert quite a hold over her, too, though he’s no Svengali.’

  ‘Yes, that’s very odd,’ agreed Clara. ‘Tottie’s her best friend, but even she doesn’t know what’s worrying Sybil.’

  ‘Could they be having some kind of autumn/winter romance?’ asked Henry.

  ‘Not on Sybil’s side at least, Henry, though Piers may have some ideas in that direction. But I expect Sybil’s just wondering how to repulse him, without hurting his non-existent feelings.’

  ‘She definitely looked repulsed when he kissed her last night,’ Lex said.

  ‘Let’s not do anything hasty, but take a couple of days to think over the situation,’ Henry suggested. ‘Put it out of our minds till after Christmas.’

  ‘I’d be happy just to forget about what happened altogether,’ I said. ‘I’m sure you’re right: it was just an unbalanced moment and she’ll never do anything like that again.’

  ‘I think we’ll still need to get to the bottom of it eventually,’ Clara said. ‘But Henry’s right, we should just carry on as normal over Christmas and not let it spoil the festivities. After all, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, so it’s almost upon us.’

  ‘And here come some of the others … and Den with tea, because I can hear the trolley rattling,’ said Henry.

  Since there was no sign of Sybil, Tottie took a cup of tea and a scone up to her room and reported that she was feeling slightly better and hoped to come down for dinner.

  Teddy and Henry went into his study afterwards, to unpack the box of baubles that had arrived yesterday, and I felt strangely tired, so went up to my room with Pansy in attendance.

  I gave Fliss a quick ring and she said she was looking forward to Cal coming home next morning and she was going to tell him about the baby then.

  ‘He’s going to be so excited, but we’ll really have to get going with the house search, because it’s sooner than we planned.’

  I updated her on the Sybil Saga and how I was sure now it hadn’t been an accident and it all sounded more like the plot of a bad thriller than reality.