Christmas at Strand House

by Linda Mitchelmore

  ‘You fickle creature,’ Xander said when he got to Cliff Road. Felix was sitting in Eve Benson’s window. Not that he minded. Eve needed the cat’s company as much as the cat liked a lap to sit on.

  He let himself in and went in search of Christmas tree decorations which were in the spare room somewhere. He remembered packing them away the Christmas before Claire was killed but he hadn’t bothered to get them out since. Did anyone living alone put up Christmas decorations or get a tree?

  Ah, there they were. Rather a large boxful, but Lissy would probably need far more than that if she was going to get two trees as the taxi driver had suggested the day before.

  Eve would be up, he knew that. He often heard her putting out her recycling before it was light. He tapped on her door.

  ‘Oh dear. Total disaster is it?’ Eve said opening the door and ushering him in.

  ‘Quite the contrary,’ Xander said. ‘I’ve just come back for some Christmas tree decorations. And my lorry. I thought I’d better tell you I’ve taken the lorry in case you notice it’s missing and ring the police or something, seeing as you can’t ring me.’

  Eve Benson was yet to embrace mobile phone technology, but had found out somehow that it was expensive to use a landline to ring a mobile number and had declined Xander’s offer of his mobile number.

  ‘Your lorry for a few decorations?’ Eve said.

  ‘Well, not just that. I’ll take Lissy to the Christmas Tree Farm to choose a tree or two later on today. If they’ve got any left.’

  ‘Oh, they will have,’ Eve said. ‘A veritable forest it is up there. I went once when my Ed was alive, and didn’t he moan we had to walk miles to choose one! Anyway, you don’t want to hear all that. I just want to say, though, that I’m glad you’ve got a reason for using those decorations again. No doubt they’ll bring back memories, and so they should, but you’ll be making new ones as well. And now you can tell me to shut up and stop supplying my opinions where they’re not wanted.’

  ‘I’ll say no such thing,’ Xander said.

  Eve was right … memories would come flooding back and he would be making new ones. He’d hold decorations in his hands that Claire had held and that thought pleased him. Claire couldn’t be part of Christmas this year but he could honour the Christmases they’d spent together by using the decorations she’d bought and loved and wrapped so carefully in tissue fully expecting to be able to take them out again. A lump rose in his throat and he swallowed hard. Tears were forming, too, so he blinked them away.

  ‘Time for a cup of tea, I think,’ Eve asked.

  She’d noticed, hadn’t she?

  ‘A quick one,’ Xander said. He knew Eve would be going to Brixham in the morning to have Christmas lunch with her nephew, but as far as he knew she’d be on her own, as per usual, until then. Felix notwithstanding, of course.

  He closed the front door behind him and followed Eve into her cluttered, if welcoming, home in direct contrast to the clean, sparsely – but elegantly – furnished, Strand House. His own lay somewhere in between but he’d have to give it a thorough clean and a tidy up before he invited Lissy, or the others.

  ‘Felix is here,’ Eve said.

  ‘I know. I saw him sitting in your front room window. More or less ignored me.’

  ‘Sulking,’ Eve said. ‘The second you left yesterday he was out of your catflap, over the fence, and miaowing at my door. What could I do but let him in?’

  ‘What indeed. Most cats have at least three homes, so they say.’

  ‘So, how’s it going with your harem up the posh end of the seafront?’

  ‘Harem? One divorcee, one who ran out on her husband yesterday, and one who is a fair bit older than I am. Single. Lissy’s a great cook – she’s the divorcee.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good. That she’s a good cook. That’ll do you good, some proper food, your recycling being full of pizza boxes and takeaway cartons as it is.’

  ‘You’ve been spying on me!’ Xander laughed. Not that he minded. Eve was a good neighbour and looked out for him, took in Amazon parcels and the like, and after Claire had died she’d brought round pasties or a couple of slices of cake more than a few times, simply knocking on the door and handing them over and not engaging him in any sort of conversation that would have brought his – and her – emotions to the surface.

  ‘Better get back,’ Xander said. ‘Someone should be up by now.’ Before he could take Lissy to look for Christmas trees he’d promised he’d take Janey to see Berry Pomeroy castle. He stood up. ‘Happy Christmas Eve, Eve.’

  ‘Ha ha, very funny,’ Eve said. ‘Happy Christmas Eve yourself.’

  She reached up on tiptoe and kissed Xander on the cheek.

  Chapter 15

  Janey

  ‘There are two approaches,’ Xander said. ‘We can either park at the top of the drive, hop over the stile, and walk down – which is the better first view of the castle, if a long way back up again seeing as the carpark’s closed at the moment. Or we could drive to the bottom of the road that runs to the Duke of Somerset’s humble little abode and walk up through the woods which is shorter but not such an impressive first view.’

  ‘Won’t he mind?’ Janey asked.

  ‘Nope. It’s a public road up to his front drive.’

  ‘Oh. Are we allowed in the castle?’

  ‘Not in the castle, no. That’ll have the portcullis down for the winter. But the footpaths in both directions are public. So, what’s it going to be? Left for the steep walk, right for the woodland walk?’

  ‘Left,’ Janey said. How unused she was to being given options, being allowed to choose. And how very good it was feeling.

  When Xander had got back to Strand House after his run and dumped his big box of Christmas decorations on the kitchen island with a huge grin, Janey had been alone, eating toast and marmalade. Lissy was still in the shower – Janey had heard it running for ages – and Bobbie was yet to surface.

  ‘You,’ Xander had said, ‘are just the person I want to see.’

  And then he’d gone on to say if she wanted to paint castles then there was no time like the present. Berry Pomeroy Castle was just ten minutes away by road and there’d hardly be a soul there given it was Christmas Eve and the rest of the world would be making mince pies or icing cakes.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Janey had said. ‘Lissy will probably need help preparing for tomorrow.’

  ‘She might,’ Xander said. ‘But my guess is if she wants help she’ll ask for it. From where I was standing last night I’d say she was more than capable of throwing a meal together. A delicious meal I might add in case you think that was a facetious remark.’

  Janey hadn’t considered it a facetious remark at all and now here she was, sitting beside Xander in his builder’s lorry. How much more a person could see from being so high up. Over hedges. Across the fields to Dartmoor and Haytor in the distance. Into fields where pheasants were pecking at something on the edges of what had had some crop or other in it.

  ‘Right, then, Tracey Emin,’ Xander said. ‘Here we are.’

  Janey laughed. Tracey Emin? She wouldn’t mind earning the money from her art that Tracey Emin did, but she doubted that was likely.

  ‘We’ll park up here.’ Xander pulled over against the end wall of a barn. No yellow lines here telling him he couldn’t.

  Xander came round and opened the door for her and she slid down onto the road. For her five feet two height, it was a long way down.

  ‘Landed safely,’ Xander said. ‘You’ve got your smartphone?’

  ‘Yes,’ Janey told him. ‘And a sketchbook and a couple of pencils I brought with me.’

  ‘That’ll do for now,’ Xander said. ‘Right, over the stile we go.’

  Xander threw his long legs over the stile and stood on the other side as Janey got herself more gingerly onto the path that led down to the castle.

  She could sense the history of the place already. Most of the trees had lost their leaves but they were
so tall they were casting skeletal shadows. There was a still, silent atmosphere. Not threatening, but otherworldly somehow. And it was cold. Colder here than down by the sea. Cold enough for snow? Janey hoped so. She’d never known snow at Christmas but there should always be a first time for everything. She did up the top button of her coat. Thank goodness she’d thought to ask Lissy if she had a hat and scarf she could borrow before she came out. She ought to have put a second jumper on as well but she couldn’t do anything about the fact she hadn’t now. She’d be warm enough on the walk back up.

  ‘Tell me if I’m walking too fast for you,’ Xander said. ‘I tend to forget some think I’ve got lampposts for legs.’ He pulled his beanie hat further down over his ears and hunkered down into his builders’ reefer jacket. ‘Brr. Bit nippy. I always forget how cold it can be up here. Creepy. One of the most haunted castles in the UK. Did I say?’

  ‘You know you didn’t!’ Janey laughed.

  ‘Would you have come if I had?’

  ‘Wild horses wouldn’t have kept me away.’

  With each step she took beside Xander going down the steep and twisty lane she felt some sort of strength propelling her onwards.

  ‘I can’t believe I’ve lived so close to this place all my life and never visited,’ Janey said.

  ‘It happens. I’ve got a neighbour – Eve – who was born in the cottage she still lives in and if you were to spit out a cherry stone it’d land in the sea, and yet she’s never even dipped her toes in it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. Nearly there. Get your smartphone ready. The first sight is always impressive.’

  Janey did as she told, pulling the smartphone she’d had her hand around since she got out of Xander’s van from her pocket. She switched it on.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Janey said, as the rounded the bend. She stood stock still in awe. She hadn’t expected it to be quite so big even though she’d seen photos of it and when she’d been at school there’d been a term when they’d studied local history but the day of the castle visit Janey had been ill and hadn’t been able to go. If only she had.

  ‘Perfect lighting as well,’ Xander said. ‘Now the sun’s decided to break out from the clouds. Hollywood has missed a trick not getting me for a locations manager, eh?’

  ‘Definitely!’

  It was more perfect than perfect to Janey’s artistic eye and she began taking photos.

  ‘Come on. It’s even more awesome when you get to the bottom of the path. Café’s closed at the moment, as are the loos, and the ticket hut’s boarded up, but we can walk around the perimeter and peer in.’

  Janey was glad of Xander’s company, of course she was, and grateful to him for bringing her here and being so kind, but part of her also wanted this experience on her own. Already ideas were forming in her mind how she would paint this castle.

  She followed Xander on down the path, and he led her to the huge gate with the portcullis.

  ‘It’s like something out of a film,’ Janey said. ‘Or Game of Thrones.’

  ‘Better than that,’ Xander said. ‘All hands-on, touchy feely.’ He took a hand from his pocket and placed his palm against the stone. ‘Bloody fantastic builders built this. Wish the blokes I employ could make half a good as job of their stonework as those guys did way back then when they had very little to help them do it by way of tools or technology.’

  ‘I think that’s what so impressive,’ Janey said. She took a few steps backwards and took a photo of the doorway.

  ‘When I was a lad, which wasn’t a million years away in case you’re wondering …’

  ‘Ha ha,’ Janey interrupted. How good it felt to be able to do that and know she wouldn’t be yelled at for doing it.

  ‘When I was a lad,’ Xander repeated with a mock-sigh, ‘me and my mates used to cycle up here. At night. We’d bring sleeping bags and a can of coke and whatever grub we could nick from our mums’ fridges and we’d sleep out under the stars waiting for ghosts to appear.’

  ‘Crikey,’ Janey said. ‘It’s a bit steep from sea level up to here.’

  ‘We were younger then. Invincible as youngsters think they are. The Eighties were quieter on the roads than they are now. Mothers used to fret less about what their kids were up to.’

  Janey had been in junior school in that decade and by the time she was a teenager kids were kept on a tighter rein. Too many dangers. Too many predators of young children, although there always had been more than likely.

  Janey turned her back on the castle and took photos of the path she’d just come down and the skeletal trees that had lined her way. It struck her then, given her last train of thought, that she felt quite, quite safe here with Xander who she barely knew. Far safer than she had ever felt with Stuart, who she’d thought she’d known.‘D’you want to see how me and my mates used to get into the castle at night?’

  ‘Please,’ Janey said.

  ‘Down here, then,’ he said. ‘Dungeons this way.’

  Janey followed.

  ‘Oh, and if you see a lady in white walking across that battlement up there, pretend you haven’t. She means—’

  ‘Death,’ Janey finished for him, laughing. ‘I remember that much from school!’

  ‘Good. Here we are. All barred now so little oiks like I was can’t get in and light barbecues and drink themselves stupid on alcopops.’

  ‘I’m sure you didn’t!’ Janey said.

  ‘I’m sure I did.’

  Janey took yet more photos, most of which she knew she’d delete but there would be a fair few in there she knew she would be able to turn into paintings. An idea flash-forwarded in her brain that she could go on to produce birthday cards or art postcards with these sorts of images on. People would buy them. People who were members of the National Trust, or English Heritage, would.

  ‘It’ll be another half hour’s walking or so to get down through the wood into the lane and back again,’ Xander said. ‘Are your shoes up to that?’

  ‘They’ll have to be. They’re all I brought with me. Oh, and a pair of slippers but I haven’t felt brave enough to put them on yet, preferring to walk around in my socks. You can’t imagine Bobbie in slippers, can you?’

  ‘I’m a gentleman,’ Xander quipped. ‘I won’t answer that.’

  ‘Of course. Sorry. Fishing for compliments, I expect.’ Janey thought she’d forgotten how but perhaps now with a kind and handsome man wanting to be in her company her mind was rememberin. ‘Lead the way.’

  The path was stony and steep for the first part and Xander, very gentlemanly, offered Janey his hand to hold for support. Again, she got nothing but a safe feeling being with him, being offered such an intimate gesture. As soon as the path levelled out, though, Janey took her hand from his.

  ‘Five minutes down the lane and past the pond,’ Xander said when they reached another lane, ‘and the castle will come into view. Get ready for another photo opportunity.’

  ‘Ready,’ Janey said. ‘Oh, larch.’ It never failed to surprise and delight Janey – who loved to paint nature – that larch which was coniferous changed leaf colour in the autumn. The larch further down the lane were glowing a sort of reddish bronze in the morning light.

  And then, there were the ruins of the castle, high up on the hill above. What Janey thought might have been the remains of chimney stacks or what was left of higher buildings stretched high from the castle wall into the pale, clear blue December sky.

  ‘Thank you so much for bringing me here, Xander,’ Janey said as she took photo after photo. A heron flew across in front of her lens on its way to the pond no doubt. It felt ethereal and yet so very right for what her soul needed now. There was a lump in the throat with the beauty of it all and she swallowed back tears; tears of happiness and not the aching fear and sadness of tears she’d cried far too much over Stuart. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Xander said. ‘But we’re going to have to get back. I’ve promised Lissy I’ll take her to go and fetch Chri
stmas trees after lunch. Hence the decorations and fetching my lorry.’ He put an arm on Janey’s shoulder and gently steered her around to start walking back the way they’d come before taking it away again. ‘What will you, and Bobbie, do you think this afternoon while Lissy and I are out denuding the pine forests?’

  Janey had no idea what she’d do yet although there was an idea forming in her mind that it couldn’t be too early for her to start on her painting, now she’d given herself permission to do some and belief in the fact she was good at it. She didn’t have a clue what Bobbie would do. What she had worked out, though, was that Xander was ever-so-not-so-subtly letting her know he didn’t want either of them on board while he took Lissy on a Christmas tree hunt. He wanted them to be alone.

  Even though a new romance wasn’t on Janey’s radar, and wouldn’t be for some time, she felt a warm glow of something flow through her – much like the brandy Lissy had given her for the shock the night before – that she was being warmed by the first flames of someone else’s.

  ‘I’ll think of something,’ Janey said, quickening her pace.

  ‘Are you coming, Janey?’ Bobbie called out to her from the hall doorway. They’d all finished lunch and now Xander and Lissy had just left to go and look for Christmas trees. Janey was sitting, legs curled under her on the couch by the window, looking through the photos she’d taken up at Berry Pomeroy castle.

  Bobbie stood in the doorway in a knee-length white coat with a funnel neck, black buttons and a very wide black patent belt. On her feet she wore vertiginously – well, they were vertiginous to Janey – high-heeled black boots that disappeared up under the hem of the coat.