“So what should we expect next? – Three French hens? Four calling birds?”
“I’m unconcerned right up until the ten lords a-leaping!” responded Rupert. “Still, I do wonder what message the sender is trying to convey.”
The two following days produced three oven-ready chickens – possibly French – left on the bonnet of Rupert’s car, and four small, artificial blackbirds, this time on the doorstep again. It was with some trepidation that Laura greeted her husband at the breakfast table on the fifth day. In response to her quizzical look he answered,
“Not five golden rings, if that is what you are wondering. More like five pork sausages – nice ones, actually, like the butcher usually makes with course cut meat and herbs.”
The issue was discussed with Veronica and Keith that evening whilst the four of them sat in the cosy red drawing room with its fat leather settees and rich Turkish carpet. The room was free of any Christmas decoration other than a few sprigs of holly, being already elaborate enough in its decor. A large jug of mulled wine was keeping warm by the fire, and they helped themselves to the mince pies piled on a plate next to it.
“Does it feel sinister?” Veronica was asking Rupert. She had experienced the malicious actions of some parishioners when she first arrived in Claresby followed by rumours about the death of her first husband and a number of unexplained disappearances.
“Perhaps the dead doves suggested malicious intent,” replied Rupert, “but the chickens and sausages were almost comical. The only thing that makes it all worrying is that anyone should be obsessed enough to carry on delivering these things day after day.”
“And to manage without us being able to catch them at it,” added Laura.
“Well, they’ve got another seven days to go if they are really obsessed,” said Keith. “Personally I’m curious as to how they are going to produce the twelve drummers. Also, I calculated that the full cost of the twelve days of gifts as specified in the carol would be about twenty thousand pounds! But, seriously, is there anyone who could have a grudge against you?”
“Rupert did help put my cousins in prison for murdering their father,” mused Laura. “But that’s another story altogether – and doesn’t explain the delivery of five sausages.”
“There is a bit of a meat theme,” observed Rupert. “Honestly, the chickens on day three looked so nice I regretted disposing of them! But I spoke to Phil Young this morning about our hog roast on Twelfth Night and he was as friendly as he could be.”
“Yes, but he has had a few problems lately,” interposed Veronica. “When I ordered my Christmas turkey from him he complained about how many people had used the new butcher in town this year – his orders were down twenty-five percent on last year.”
“But you had Christmas dinner with us?” said Laura.
“Oh, it was only a small turkey,” said Keith. “Just so we could have our own little dinner together last night – nothing like the splendid bird you had at Claresby. Was that from Phil?”
“Well, it was actually from the new butcher’s in town,” admitted Laura. “It’s the first time I’ve been there and they had an offer on the organic birds if you ordered well in advance.”
“So our own butcher, Phil, may be a little disgruntled,” smiled Veronica, “especially with you being such a prominent person in Claresby.”
“It is true that the Mortimer family have always bought their meat from the village butcher,” acknowledged Laura, “but I can’t imagine that Phil would set such store by this fact. Anyway, he will be here for our Twelfth Night party. He will have full range of the kitchen and will be roasting a whole pig on the spit in the fireplace. I’ll have a gentle word with him then.”
It was recorded in the Domesday Book that the Lord of the Manor of Claresby had the exclusive right to hold both a fair and a market on his land. As a descendant of the Mortimer family, who were named in the 1086 entry, Laura had reintroduced the tradition of the fair. Since discovering treasure in the grounds and restoring the family’s fortunes, she had also revived the medieval tradition of a celebration on the fifth of January to mark the end of the winter festival considered to begin at Halloween. This was only the second year that this particular event had been held at Claresby Manor since its reintroduction, but the pattern had been set for the provision of a hot winter punch and a hog roast, as well as cakes and fruit juice for any children who attended. Entertainment included musicians playing medieval and renaissance music from the gallery in the Great Hall, as well as a raffle to support the village church.
The evening of Twelfth Night proved to be cold but dry and everything was merry within the Hall as villagers chatted and danced. Laura surveyed the scene with satisfaction, before returning to the kitchen to see that everything was under control. Phil Young, ably assisted by his teenage son, was carving the pork which was piled into rolls and carried away by the tray-full to the hungry revellers. He was a big, ruddy faced man in his fifties with an impressive beer belly and bright blue eyes. He smiled at Laura as she entered,
“Everything going well? It sounds like fun out there.”
“Oh, yes – you must come and join us soon; you look as if you are almost done out here. The food has been splendid.”
“Always good to be appreciated,” replied Phil with a hearty wink. “By the way, there may be a bit of a surprise for you in a while.”
“Oh?” said Laura uncertainly. “What sort of a surprise?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” replied Phil enigmatically.
Laura went back to join Rupert and conveyed to him what the butcher had just said.
“I do wonder if he was put out by your not buying a turkey from him,” mused Rupert. “It is interesting that the delivery of gifts stopped after the five sausages at the point when I confirmed that I wanted Phil to provide the hog roast – perhaps I should have sorted it all earlier. Anyway, all’s well that ends well.”
“But how do we know that it has ended well until we know what Phil means by a surprise!”
“I suppose we will just have to wait and see, like the man said.”
Events continued to be a success and Laura ate some hog roast, drank some punch and danced an excitable sort of reel with her husband until the exhausted musicians went to take some refreshments. The celebration was set to end at midnight, but at fifteen minutes before the hour the partiers were distracted by the sudden striking up of music outside. Looking out onto the lawn, which was flooded with light from the house, they saw a Scottish Pipe Band of about a dozen players with bagpipes and drums. Everyone gathered by the windows to watch and clapped appreciatively at the end of the first tune. A second struck up and as Laura enjoyed the spectacle she found Phil at her elbow.
“Had I mentioned that my brother played in a pipe band?” said Phil with a grin.
“No – how wonderful – and it looks like we’ve got our drummers and pipers all rolled into one!” exclaimed Laura happily. “But I think we had better ask them in for some hot punch. It looks like our party is going to go on into the early morning after all.”
The Claresby Collection: Twelve Mysteries Page 24