by N/A
“I’m really okay, Jen.”
“Sure?”
“Yes. I haven’t had chance to talk to you about it, but over the last six months I’ve learned a lot about myself and I’ve realised that while I had thought Luke was my soulmate, he didn’t make my heart sing or my emotions fizz as much as…”
She stopped, relishing the curl of happiness zipping around her body and causing a smile to stretch her lips.
“As much as what?”
Millie glanced down to the bottom of the stairs and her heart performed a flip-flop of pleasure when she saw Zach staring up at her.
“As much as what?”
“Sorry, Jen. Got to go.”
“Millie…”
“Don’t worry. I’m absolutely fine. In fact, I’m better than fine. I love you, Jen. Send my hugs and kisses to the girls and tell them I’ll see them on Christmas Eve.”
“I will but…”
“Bye.”
She severed the connection with her bewildered sister, excitement rushing through her veins. She had no idea whether Zach had heard her conversation with Jen, unsure if she wanted him to have heard or not, but she was certain of one thing; that whatever label she chose to put on her relationship with Zach, whenever she was in his company he made her spirits soar and her self-esteem burgeon.
She smiled at him, taking in the sprinkle of debris that dotted his hair after his workshop rescue heroics, and made her way down the stairs, pausing on the bottom step so she could look directly at him. In that moment, she decided there was no time like the present to throw caution to the wind and tell Zach how she felt about him, despite their uncertain future.
“Zach…”
“Millie…”
She stared into the chocolate brown eyes, ringed with lashes the colour of liquorice, that had accompanied her dreams ever since she’d returned from St Lucia.
“Are you okay?”
For a few seconds she was unable to respond. Wisps of Zach’s breath tickled seductively at her cheeks as he took a step closer, the determination evident in his expression. She savoured the swirl of pleasure that spiralled through her veins, breathless with anticipation of finally being wrapped into his arms, safe from falling roofs and the wider world. A shiver of intense desire shot southwards and her heartbeat hammered out a medley of delight as Zach’s lips hovered within inches of hers. This time she knew he had no intention of backing off like he had done when they’d had dinner at his lodge, that at last the director of her destiny had answered her fervent request to give her a break!
“Never better. Zach, I want to…”
“Millie? Zach? Please tell me that wasn’t an explosion I heard coming from Tim’s workshop! I specifically asked him not to set foot in the damn place until this afternoon’s viewing is over and Dexter and Sven have left!”
Millie took a quick step away from Zach, embarrassed to be discovered in such a compromising stance in Claudia’s hallway. Unfortunately, she had forgotten she was standing on the bottom step and she stumbled forwards into Zach’s arms. She almost swooned when he drew her close to his chest, enjoying the sensation of her body moulding perfectly into his, thrilled at the speed of his heartbeat through his sweater.
“Sorry, Claudia, but you’re spot on,” said Zach, his arm lingering on Millie’s shoulder as they tipped their chins upwards in unison to watch Claudia jog down the stairs towards them, her expression a mixture of anxiety and irritation. “There’s been a small incident in the workshop, nothing too serious, and Tim’s fine. But you might want to add another new roof to your ‘To Do’ list.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s okay. But I need to have a word with him about concealing the damage until Dexter has been. Do you think we should… What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Erm…” began Millie.
“Why don’t we go through to the kitchen and grab some coffee,” suggested Zach, tossing a quick glance in the direction of the library door behind which Tim, Dexter and Sven were sequestered.
“Zach? Oh, God no! Dexter’s already here, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And… oh, please don’t tell me that Sven Andersen is with him?”
“I’m afraid he is.”
“And I suppose they had a front row seat at the Tim Croft Crazy Circus?”
“We all did,” laughed Leo, appearing at the kitchen door with Gina, Mike and Marianne, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Had I known this kind of show was on offer right here, I might have thought twice about the entertainment I have planned for later on this evening in Oxford. You should charge extra, Claudia.” Leo continued to chuckle but when he noticed the look on Claudia’s face he swiftly cleared his throat and continued “Anyway, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be making tracks. Don’t want to miss the ice-creams!”
Millie watched them disappear through the boot room door into the courtyard and then joined Zach and Claudia at the kitchen table. Despite having spent the majority of the day resting in her bedroom, Millie still thought Claudia looked exhausted, with a tinge of green around her gills. She watched her take a sip of the coffee Zach had handed to her and screw up her nose in disgust.
“Yuk. I think there’s something wrong with this batch of coffee. It tastes like liquid tar.”
Millie glanced at Zach who shrugged his shoulders, took a gulp of his own, and gave Millie a slight shake of head.
“Okay. Let’s get this over with,” said Claudia. “Where are Dexter and Sven hiding?”
“Tim took them into the library to have a chat.”
Claudia heaved herself out of her chair as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Millie found she had to quell the urge to offer her an arm to lean on as they made their way across the hallway towards the library. A sudden blast of concern whipped through her. Could Claudia be suffering from something other than a sickness bug?
Zach was about to open the library door when the front door burst open and a crowd of people spilled into the entrance hall, every one of them bundled up against the cold in padded jackets, and woolly hats and scarves.
“What the…?” cried Millie.
Chapter Fifteen
“Hi Claudia. The village grapevine has gone into over-drive and we thought maybe Tim could do with a hand to tidy up and mend the roof – there’s more snow predicted for tomorrow night,” said Mitch, the landlord of The Flying Fox, dragging his hat from his head to reveal a shock of red hair.
“Yay! The cavalry’s here! Lead me to the cranberry cupcakes and hot chocolate!” declared Blake, rushing forward to draw Millie into a bear hug, crushing her face against his banana-yellow down jacket. “Better get working on the provisions for the troops.”
“Hello Claudia,” said Kate, as she released Zach from a hug and turned to embrace her friend. Millie cringed when she spotted the wicker basket hooked over her arm, crammed with her signature corned beef-and-potato pies and the inevitable blocks of parkin. “Hi Millie.”
“Hi Kate. Erm, I…”
Millie was about to follow Kate into the kitchen when the front door was flung open a second time and, accompanied by a flurry of snowflakes, in walked another battalion of helpers swelling the numbers to over a dozen. The volume of animated chatter increased three-fold as everyone greeted everyone else, then clattered off into the kitchen for a fortifying feed before the hard work began.
The noise had alerted Tim and the door to the library cracked open. When he saw Mitch, he dashed forward, his palm outstretched, keen to lead the procession to the workshop to explain what had happened and for an in-depth discussion on how best to protect his precious collection of junk from the elements. Millie remained in the hallway, amazed at the rapid response of the call-to-arms. A warm sensation meandered through her veins until she noticed the expression of horror on Sven’s face as he watched the procession of villagers trample through the hallway leaving behind trails of mud and pools of melted snow on the floor.
“Who are
all these people?” demanded Sven, his mouth curled downwards in distaste.
“They’re…” began Dexter, pausing to consider his response, clearly wrestling with his conscience until a black-and-white springer spaniel by the name of Binks rushed up and began circling his legs in excitement, snuffling at the pocket of his overcoat for a treat. Dexter reached down and fondled the dog’s silky ears receiving a lick of approval for his effort. “They’re friends. People who live in the village who have answered a fellow resident’s call for support.”
“Does this sort of thing happen regularly?”
“All the time.”
Sven gaped in astonishment, mingled with a soupcon of fear, as a third contingent arrived on the threshold, this group accompanied by several excitable children carrying huge inflatable reindeers which they proceeded to arrange where the Christmas tree had stood. One of the men recognised Dexter and strode forward to shake his hand warmly and slap him on the back.
“The wanderer returns! Great to see you Dex. Fancy a pint in The Fox later? Reckon the drinks’ll be on Tim, don’t you? What’s he gone and done this time?”
“Raised the roof on the workshop.”
“Nothing new there then! Let’s go and assess the damage!”
Dexter’s friend dragged him off into the kitchen leaving Millie and Sven alone in the entrance hall. If it were possible, Sven’s already translucent pallor had blanched further as he witnessed the constant stream of visitors march through Stonelea Manor as if they owned the place. However, when he reached the kitchen doorway, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the maelstrom of chaos.
The clutter from the brunch preparations was still there, but now every available square of space was covered in coats, hats, gloves, Tupperware boxes of food, crates of beer and bottles of wine, wreaths of holly and mistletoe, and women chatting with Claudia, giggling as she regaled them with the details of another of Tim’s fiascos. Millie couldn’t help but smile, because there was no sign of the earlier tiredness as Claudia stood amongst her friends and laughed with them about her husband’s foibles.
Without thinking, Millie turned to comment about the fabulousness of friends, about how life was enriched by their uplifting presence, no matter how fleeting, but Sven’s mask of arrogance had slipped to be replaced with a look of absolute discomfort, which morphed swiftly into panic. She watched him remove his hand sanitiser and squirt a generous dollop into the palm of his hand, and then flick his eyes towards the front door, clearly preparing to make a run for it.
Having honed her skills in prevarication over many years, Millie wondered what to do for the best. On the one hand, she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise Tim and Claudia’s chance at securing a sale of the manor, but equally she knew that Sven wasn’t the right person to take over its custodianship. It was none of her business really, but she also suspected that Sven wouldn’t be happy there and just needed a little nudge to realise that. Should she butt out and let destiny take its course, or, as was her tendency, don her Meddlesome Millie hat?
She decided to encourage Sven to join the throng in the kitchen. The whole room was filled with a kaleidoscope of colour, of fragrances, and of people. Christmas carols blared from the radio and laughter ricocheted around the walls. No one batted an eye at the anonymous superstar in their midst and she could see the disappointment in his expression, along with the distaste at having to rub shoulders with so many strangers without the protection of an entourage. She handed him a coffee, managing to slop a couple of droplets onto his designer overcoat that he still hadn’t removed. She grabbed a slice of kitchen towel and tried to blot the dribble away, knocking a packet of icing sugar onto the floor with her elbow and sending clouds of sweet white mist into the air. Sven backed away towards the entrance hall, horror scrawled across his features, and Millie had an idea.
She caught up with him at the bottom of the staircase.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s a real work of art; one that should be in a museum. I plan to replace it with a glass and stainless-steel design, much more elegant and sophisticated, don’t you think, Miss Harmer?”
Millie was too appalled by his suggestion to even pull him up for getting her name wrong. She now had no qualms about putting her plan into action. She just hoped that Claudia and Tim would forgive her. Surely they would be horrified too when they heard about Sven’s intentions to rip out the staircase that had adorned Stonelea Manor for over two hundred years. It would be tantamount to assault!
“You know, Claudia and Tim hold annual Banister Sliding competitions for the village children. It’s one of the highlights of the local primary school’s calendar and there’s a prize for the fastest. There’s even a silver trophy that’s presented by the head of the household.”
“Really?”
Millie was gratified to hear the slight wobble in Sven’s high-pitched voice. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could also see beads of sweat gathering along his upper lip as he continued to sidle towards the front door. She had no intention of letting him escape so easily.
“It’s a shame you weren’t here on Sunday to attend the tree-lighting ceremony.”
“The tree-lighting ceremony?”
“Yes, that would be another of your delightful duties as owner of Stonelea Manor. Afterwards, everyone piles back here for a sumptuous buffet and as much mulled wine as you could swim in. There are party games, drinking competitions, Christmas Karaoke and at the end of the evening everyone dances the Conga through the house and grounds.”
“The Conga?” Sven’s features twisted into a knot of disgust. “Oh, well, thanks for the information, Martha. Actually, I’ve just remembered an important…”
“But you haven’t had a tour of upstairs yet.”
“No, I’m sure it…”
“We have guests staying at the moment - I think you met Leo and Mike earlier, just before the explosion - but I’m happy to show you my suite so you can get an idea of the quality of the accommodation.”
Without waiting for his approval, Millie jogged up the stairs and waited for Sven to join her with a beaming smile. She turned the iron key in the lock on her bedroom door and welcomed him into the tropical paradise with a flourish of her hand. It took all her willpower not to laugh out loud as he performed a comedic double-take when his eyes fell on the assortment of snow globes on the mantlepiece - not to mention the exotic birds, flowers and plants depicted on the wallpaper and the soft furnishings. It looked like the tropical birdhouse at a Caribbean zoo, minus the smell.
“What do you think? Marvellous, isn’t it?”
“It’s certainly unique.”
Sven ran his fingers through his bleached blonde spikes and rotated his gaze around the room, taking in the cornucopia of zinging colours and the rainbow of matching accessories, lingering for several minutes on the disaster that was the Christmas tree, entwined with every shade of tinsel available in Gloucestershire. Coupled with the Oriental rug and her discarded clothes, the place was a riot of disorder and as far from the clean lines and minimalist Scandinavian design that Sven preferred as you could get - and Millie loved it.
“Erm, are all the rooms like this?”
Millie thought of the tastefully decorated suites Claudia had spent a fortune on; in lemon, aquamarine, the palest of lavender, all adorned with beautiful furnishings and designer linen, and she decided to embroider the truth with a little mischief.
“Oh no.”
“Thank God!”
“All the suites have different themes. There’s the Egyptian Suite, with hieroglyphics etched onto the walls and the ceiling and stitched into the soft furnishings. But the crowning glory is the replica of Tutankhamun’s tomb that you walk through to get to the bathroom. It’s fabulous!”
“Tutankhamun’s tomb?” Sven spluttered, and to Millie’s amazement he removed a large monogrammed handkerchief and actually mopped his brow. A spasm of sympathy shot into her chest and she wondered if she h
ad maybe gone a little bit too far, until he said “I had no idea the celebrated Claudia Croft had such diabolical taste in interior design! She’s married to a highly-regarded architect, for God’s sake!”
It took every ounce of Millie’s self-control not to bite his head off. How dare he?
“And why on earth do Claudia and Tim put up with this disgraceful invasion of their home? Do these people have no respect for their privacy? If this was my property, I’d install a state-of-the-art electric gate system, so that visitors would have to announce themselves and I could decide whether I wanted them to grace me with their presence. Tell me, is there just the one access road in, do you know?”
“There’re several entrances, but I don’t think any of them are electric.”
“So, no electrified fences either?”
Millie glanced at him sharply, expecting to see the hint of a joke in his vivid blue eyes, but to her amazement it seemed he was being serious. She redoubled her efforts.
“No, but there’re the tunnels that lead from the cellar to the village pub.”
“Tunnels?
“Really handy for when it’s snowing, or when the manor is cut off during the floods.”
“The floods? Is the property prone to flooding? Dexter didn’t mention that in his sales pitch. I can’t live somewhere where there’s a risk I could be trapped. I often have important business to attend to….”
Sven met Millie’s eyes and she returned his steady stare, praying that he hadn’t rumbled her attempt to thwart his impression of the manor’s attributes. Fortunately, he showed no inkling of suspecting her of being parsimonious with the truth and she suspected that as far as Sven was concerned, he had long since donated his sense of humour to a worthier cause. Suddenly, she didn’t want to be in his company for a moment longer and craved the opportunity to mingle with the hordes downstairs, to feel the warmth and companionship of the people who had turned up at Stonelea Manor to offer their help. She couldn’t get out of her bedroom fast enough.
“Well, if you’ve seen everything you need…?”