A Proper Family Christmas

by Jane Gordon - Cumming

  “Julia,” Hilary tried to keep calm, “Frances is supposed to be resting. She needs absolute quiet.”

  “Oh, of course! I wouldn’t dream of getting her to do a thing, - even though it is a bit of a pain, having no one to keep Tobias under control. Stephen and Ratso should never have been allowed to have children! All they manage is to wind him up, - and then Posy gets going, bless her…”

  “Frances shouldn’t even have visitors,” Hilary interrupted firmly. “She’s still very upset and shaken.”

  “I know, poor little lamb. You could tell from her voice. - I think she was about to cry, at one point! Never mind, we’ll soon cheer her up, won’t we?” Julia made herself comfortable on Hilary’s bed. “…And something tells me your Daniel’s going to be the one to do that.” She raised her brows in a question.

  “Yes, they do seem to have fallen for each other,” Hilary answered it, still wondering how to prevent this impossible woman from finishing poor Frances off completely.

  “Oh, how lovely! I guessed she must be smitten, from the way she was talking about him. I’m so glad he feels the same way. …The gods of love are certainly smiling on Haseley this Christmas, aren’t they? - Not only you and Leo,” she said, as Hilary pulled a face. “I was thinking of Kath Arncott and Oliver. …Who would have put money on her pulling that one off?”

  “What do you mean?” said Hilary sharply. “Oliver’s gay, isn’t he?”

  “Well, I know, - but it looks as if she must have turned him, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh don’t be silly, Julia!” Hilary snapped. “It’s not something you simply change your mind about!”

  How typical of Julia to alter the facts to make a better piece of gossip, she thought crossly, when she’d finally gone off downstairs, having persisted in concocting an elaborate scenario with Oliver and Kath as lovers. …For heaven’s sake, the man was either gay or he wasn’t, - unless, God forbid, he was bisexual, - but in any case, he was hardly likely to have let himself be seduced by Kath! Even if she was a notorious predator, and apparently, for some reason, had a magnetic attraction for men, - and would no doubt be quite shameless about making it clear what was on offer. …Of course it was ridiculous to think that a man like Oliver might be tempted to take what a sexually attractive woman was handing to him on a plate, - with no emotional strings attached, - wasn’t it?

  “Well, look at you,” said Shelley, when Julia had left them alone to ‘have a nice gossip’, “ - breakfast in bed like Lady Muck, while everyone else does your work!”

  “Have this, if you want. I haven’t touched it.”

  Shelley obediently took the plate and started picking at the bacon.

  “What is it that’s supposed to be wrong with you? A sprained toe, or something? Ooh dear, - good idea to call the doctor out! Bet he had a right old laugh! …I’ve got to hand it you, babe,” she went on, “that was a very nice stroke you pulled! Accidentally getting yourself trapped, and making the kid run home and fetch Daniel to rescue you, - like there was no one else around who could have done it.”

  Frances was too weak to argue. Let her think what she liked.

  “…Who knows? I might even have come and pulled you out myself,” Shelley declared, with unabated sarcasm. “Oh! - but then I’m not in line to inherit a fortune, am I?”

  “What do you mean?” Frances gazed at her.

  “Oh, right! Of course, you’re the only one who hasn’t noticed how pally he and the old man have been getting lately, - special presents, secret little expeditions together… They’ve been like that this Christmas.” Shelley crossed her fingers to show how close she meant.

  “They’re fond of each other, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, - well it looks like paying off, in Daniel’s case.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Frances wearily.

  “Seems the old boy’s thinking of leaving him everything when he pops his clogs,” Shelley explained, “ - all this house and stuff.” She waved her arm at the room.

  “Oh come on, he’ll leave it to Stephen, surely? - Or Julia, I suppose. Daniel isn’t even his grandson.”

  “Yeah well, from what I heard, the old man practically told them it was all going to Daniel. …So I tell you, babe, you’ve got more sense than I thought!”

  William was genuinely sorry that Frances wasn’t well, but he couldn’t help being amused by the chaos her absence was causing. Who would have guessed that her gentle influence was so essential when it came to keeping those children calmly under control? Already bored with a mound of toys that would have kept any normal youngster content for the next six months, Posy and Tobias were pestering the grown-ups for attention, and everyone was racking their brains for a way of entertaining them.

  At Julia’s hint that she might play with one of her Christmas presents, Posy had begun by plastering her young face in the make-up Shelley had seen fit to give her, and then she had adorned Tobias in a similar way. Lesley had screamed at the sight of her four-year-old boy in lipstick and eye-shadow, and for some reason laid this transformation at Oliver’s door. William’s idea, based on a Japanese game-show he’d once watched, of seeing how many worms Posy could place on Tobias’s bare stomach without him running off howling, wasn’t very well received either.

  “When I was young, we would all have been following the Hunt on Boxing Day morning!” declared Margery. “…Oh bugger it, what about Racing Demon? It’s what we always used to play at Christmas. …No, Lesley, it isn’t gambling, - not unless we bet on it. …Come on, William, I know you’ve still got those old packs somewhere, even if some of the cards are missing. …Yes, I know that isn’t fair, Posy. You’ll find life isn’t fair, if you stick around as long as I have. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

  “I should warn you, - I’m good at this!” said Oliver, as they ranged themselves round the dining-room table.

  “You won’t beat me,” said Margery. “I’m older than you, and I’ve been playing since childhood. …Come on, Tobias, spit spot! You don’t want to keep everyone waiting, do you?”

  William, who’d been quite a dab hand at Racing Demon himself, was about to join them, when Tony tapped him on the shoulder.

  “J and I thought we might slip down to the White Hart,” he murmured. “Come and join us.”

  Julia was beckoning from the door. William glanced from her to the table. …Oh well, he probably wouldn’t have won anyway. Oliver had a grim determination about him, and Margery was almost as good as she thought.

  “Very well,” he said, “if you’re buying.”

  “God, you’re looking really ill again!” exclaimed Daniel. “Didn’t you manage to sleep?”

  “I’ve had rather a lot of visitors!”

  “What? But Mum told everyone you hadn’t to be disturbed, and they’d got to keep away! We knew it would only make you worse if you had to talk to people.”

  “Oh well, - perhaps the message didn’t get through.” Frances was unwilling to believe that Julia had deliberately ignored it. And of course it wouldn’t have occurred to her that Shelley would only want to bitch. That girl hated not being the centre of attention, especially where men were concerned, - which was why she’d made up that stupid story about Daniel, of course.

  “Anyway,” she sighed, “I’m awake now. Come and tell me what I missed yesterday. You never said what present you got for William.”

  “Oh, - a model aeroplane. It was ace!” He described the fun they’d had flying it on the Common, and how they’d met Kath on the way back, and cruelly abandoned poor Oliver to her clutches. “…And I don’t know what time he got home, - having more important things on my mind! - but it must have been pretty late. So we’ve yet to find out whether she had her wicked way with him, or if he escaped with his virtue intact.”

  She chuckled. “…Well, I don’t think Kath can really have got very far,” she pointed out. “He is gay, after all.”

  “What?” Daniel stared at her. “Oliver’s gay?
Of course he isn’t! What are you talking about?”

  “I know! I was amazed too. - But that’s what Julia and Tony told Shelley.”

  “There is no way that man’s gay! Good lord, we went for a walk together last night, - talked about all kinds of stuff. There wasn’t a hint of anything… At least…” He stopped suddenly.

  “What? He didn’t start coming on to you, did he?” said Frances, for some reason appalled.

  “Oh no, nothing like that! It just explains some of the remarks people like Tony and Leo were making. - Oh and Lesley! She’s obviously terrified he might corrupt Tobias.” Daniel paused, frowning, as he digested the news. “But hang on, I thought he and Mum… They were getting on a bomb in Cirencester. I was beginning to size him up as step-dad material! - Until after lunch, anyway.”

  “Yes,” said Frances, watching him make the connection. “And after lunch, Hilary was talking to Julia and Tony.

  “You think they told her then? Oh my God!”

  “Quite,” said Frances. “And imagine how you’d feel if you were falling for someone, and then found out they could never love you back.”

  They looked at each other. Daniel bent forward and kissed her softly.

  “The funny thing is,” he frowned again, “I could have sworn that Oliver was pretty keen on Mum. He was really upset when she seemed to go off him, you know. The only reason he asked me to go for a walk was to batter me with questions, trying to find out what was wrong.”

  “Well, now you can tell him,” said Frances grimly.

  William knew most of the people gathered in the White Hart for Boxing Day, and of course all the villagers knew him. He had a chat with old Blockley, who was sitting at the bar, while Tony got the drinks in.

  “Daddy, you’re so good at all this!” said Julia in admiring tones, as they took them across to a more secluded table.

  “All what?”

  “All this lord of the manor stuff.” She treated Blockley to one of her dazzling smiles. “Don’t you think so, Tony? …Imagine Stephen and Ratso coming down here and talking to the gardener like that, as if he was an old friend!”

  “Well, he is,” said William.

  “I can’t see Stephen fraternising with the hoi polloi in his local pub,” Tony agreed. “And Lesley wouldn’t want to risk betraying her origins, would she? Reckon they’ll be safe down here, if those two ever inherit the house. …Bit of a shame, though.”

  “Oh dreadful! The family have always had a huge connection with Haseley village,” said Julia. “It would be a terrible pity to break the tradition. …I’ll tell you what, Daddy, you were very sensible not to let them bully you into anything.”

  “I’m always very sensible,” said William, “and I never let myself be bullied. Which particular attempt did you have in mind?”

  “A little bird told us they tried to get you to sign a will in their favour,” Tony admitted. “…Typically tactful, collaring you on Christmas Eve. I suppose they thought you wouldn’t notice what you were doing after a glass or two of sherry.”

  “They were wrong, then.”

  “Of course they were! - Dear, sensible Daddy.” Julia patted his hand.

  “…Not that it isn’t advisable to get things sorted out one way or other,” Tony went on, casually fiddling with the mat under his whisky. “Morbid subject for Christmas, I know, but it might give you peace of mind to think your affairs were in order.”

  William looked at him.

  “It so happens that we’ve got one of these ourselves.” Tony suddenly pulled an envelope out of his inside pocket. “ - Thought it would save you some hassle. …I’m sure you can think of someone a bit more suitable to make things over to!” he smiled at William’s daughter, as he handed him another blank will form.

  “…Someone more suitable than Stephen and Lesley.” William took the document, and the smart fountain pen Tony was offering. “Oh, - you mean Hilary? Yes, I’m very fond of Hilary, and she’s had a bad deal in life. She could certainly do with a bit of help.” He uncapped the pen.

  “No! …Oh - yes, poor Hilary,” said Julia quickly. “Dreadful about Ben and all that! - even though it was quite a long time ago now, and one does have to move on, doesn’t one?”

  “And apparently Hilary has moved on,” said Tony, exchanging a swift glance with Julia. “Lord knows what she sees in that arsehole, but there you are!”

  “You mean Oliver?”

  “No, of course not, - he’s gay!” said Julia. “Tony’s talking about Hilary and Leo.”

  “You’re saying Hilary’s in love with Leo?”

  “Can’t keep the two of them apart,” said Tony. “Quite endearing, really. We caught them sneaking off for a walk yesterday, didn’t we, Julia?”

  “It’s an awful shame, when darling Hilary’s so nice,” Julia sighed, “but I suppose you can’t choose who you fall in love with, can you? She must be able to see his similarities with Ben, - though nobody else can, that’s for sure.”

  “…But obviously anything left to Hilary is in danger of ending up in Leo’s hands,” Tony pointed out, “and I really don’t think any of us would like to have him installed at Haseley.”

  “God no! - Better to have Stephen and Ratso and that dreadful child,” said Julia, “ - if there was no other choice, anyway.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of choice,” said William cheerfully. “Let me see…” He took a sip of his ginger wine. “Daniel’s a nice young man, - if he can keep that tendency to madness under control.”

  “…Oh dear yes! Wasn’t Leo horrible last night?” exclaimed Julia. “After all, if there is anything wrong like that with Daniel, why should it come from Hilary’s family, rather than Ben and Leo’s? Uncle Denis was quite off the wall, I seem to remember.”

  “Have to be, - married to Margery,” William pointed out.

  “Anyway, Daniel’s going to have enough problems, by the sound of it,” Julia went on. “Have you two heard the latest?”

  “Come on, you old gossip,” Tony grinned, “What have you heard?”

  “Well,” Julia leaned forward confidentially, “it seems that little nanny Frances has been a bit clever! - No, I think the accident was genuine enough. We went through all the details. …But she certainly used the situation to her advantage. She put her heart into playing the old damsel in distress, and by the time Daniel had got her free, she’d got him pretty well trapped! - If you believe Hilary, they’re now desperately in love.”

  “Demure little Frances, - who would have thought it?” chuckled Tony. “Still, you can’t blame her, can you? Family’s pretty badly off, I gather, - widowed mother and scores of children. And he’ll be earning a packet as a doctor, - not to mention what Margery leaves him. …I suppose she might even have got the idea that he was in with a chance of Haseley.”“Oh surely not! …God, do you think so?” exclaimed Julia. “My dear, just imagine! That poor little thing - overrun with kids, no doubt - trying to manage that huge house, and wondering what hat to wear, and which fork to use at dinner-parties! …Hard on poor Hilary, though,” she sighed. “She’s being very brave about it, but let’s face it, Daniel could have had anybody. - The last thing she’ll have wanted was for him to fall into the clutches of another gold digger, using him to claw her way up the social scale. …Why is this family so prone to them?”

  CHAPTER 19

  “There we are, duck! Mrs. Watlington thought you might be able to manage a bit of soup for your lunch.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Hilary was kind! It was just what Frances felt like.

  “And there’s a turkey sandwich to go with it, if you want,” Kath relayed the rest of the message.

  “No, this is fine.”

  “Well, you seem to have had a right old do yesterday!” Kath sat down, ready to chat. “That old ruin should have been pulled down years ago. - Full of dry rot, so it’s never going to sell. Better to start again with a nice bungalow.”

  Frances could see that she was going to be made to go through the det
ails of her accident again in a minute, and quickly changed the subject. “I hear you had Mr. Leafield round yesterday. Did you have a good time?”

  “Oh, yes thanks, - couldn’t have been better!” Kath exclaimed happily. “He’s a lovely bloke, isn’t he? Not at all snobby! Ever so good with the children, too. The boys liked him a lot. He loved my old cottage, - well I knew he would. Very excited about one of the beams in the bedroom. …Yes, I’m afraid we did end up in the bedroom,” she giggled. “No, it’s okay. Oliver’s a perfect gentleman, shame to say, - though it was pretty obvious he would have liked to take things a bit further.”

  “Really?” Frances couldn’t help expressing her surprise.

  “Oh yes,” said Kath, with the confidence of one sure of her own powers. “There’s no mistaking that look in a man’s eye, is there? Still, you’ve got to hold back a bit on the first date. We did have a very cosy little chat though,” she hastened to tell her, “on the bed, sitting as close as I am to you. I’ve got a gift for drawing people out, as a matter of fact,” - Frances knew from experience that this meant asking a lot of nosy questions - “and Oliver really poured his heart out to me, once I got him going. He lives all on his own, in one of those posh flats in Kensington, near William’s sister, - worth a mint, I imagine. Can’t earn all that writing articles, can he? I think there’s some family money around. …Anyway,” she leant forward eagerly, “I bet you’re asking yourself how a great catch like him has managed to stay single all these years!”

  “Um, no…” Frances didn’t like to state the obvious conclusion.

  “Well,” Kath went on regardless, “it seems that when he was young, poor old Oliver had a disappointment.” …Like discovering he was gay? “He fell in love with someone who let him down really badly. It broke his heart, and by all accounts he’s never found anyone else to match up to her, - until now, that is. He did say ‘until now’,” Kath stressed, with a gleam in her eye.

  “Are you sure he said ‘her’?” said Frances gently.

  “Of course. …Oh, did you think he was gay?” Kath chuckled, as if this was the funniest joke in the world. “No, I can put you right on that score! Oliver Leafield is definitely all man, - even if I didn’t go all the way to proving it, if you get what I mean.” She winked at Frances. “I did tell him how I find older men so much more attractive than younger blokes, especially nicely-spoken, upper class types, - and a bit of substance behind them doesn’t go amiss either. He got the message! He said he’d probably be popping down to Haseley again to finish off his article, and I don’t think it’s just old William he’ll be coming to see. …Shall I take that, if you’ve finished?”