by Katie Fforde
‘Oh goodness, don’t be silly, I love those two equally. So why may Meggie not be able to cope with Étienne?’ asked Zoe, possibly sensing that Fenella was feeling emotional and keen to get on to something more neutral. ‘He’s very nice.’
‘Meggie’s very shy,’ explained Fenella. ‘Her stepmother does all she can to demoralise her. Her mother rang me while I was picking up the turkey and told me all about it.’ She frowned. ‘Quite frankly I think this stepmother sounds like something out of Snow White. You haven’t seen her yet, Zoe, but Meggie is absolutely lovely to look at. She’s petite but with an amazing curvy figure and so pretty, and she has the most wonderful nature – no wonder the children love her. Meggie may be here as a nanny but at least we’ll be nice to her this Christmas.’
‘I have got her quite a nice present,’ said Zoe. ‘Lovely tights. I bought them for me but forgot I was pregnant and they wouldn’t really fit.’
‘I’ve got a cashmere sweater I bought in the Brora sale,’ said Fenella. ‘I’m giving her that. Not sure it’s my colour and I think it would look lovely on Meggie. It’s a sort of dark rose.’
‘I’m afraid all my other presents are food this year,’ said Zoe. ‘Scottish tablet for most people. I know I won’t be able to cook with boiling sugar for ages when this one comes.’
‘I love tablet!’ said Rupert enthusiastically as he came into the kitchen.
‘I can’t believe it!’ said Sarah, who was just behind him. ‘I’ve left the twins with those lovely young people and your two girls.’
‘Which means us lot can have a quick grown-up drink!’ said Rupert, producing more champagne and glasses like a magician.
‘Before his parents arrive,’ said Fenella, suddenly feeling a bit depressed at the idea.
‘I seem to remember having quite a lot of fun with your parents, Rupes,’ said Gideon, leaning against the Aga. ‘Even if they didn’t know we were. When we were looking after them while you were in hospital having Glory. Do you remember, darling?’
‘I remember nearly poisoning them with very old stew and that’s about it,’ said Zoe cheekily. ‘Were they ill, do you remember?’
‘Nope,’ said Fenella, ‘not that I’d have noticed, with Glory just having come into the world and that cookery competition taking up all my time.’
‘And mine,’ said Zoe, glancing at Gideon, who came to her side and pulled her against him.
Fenella, who had decided against having more than a sip or two of champagne, sighed. ‘I was so looking forward to us all being together again for Christmas.’
‘It’ll still be fun,’ said Sarah. ‘We’ll dilute the in-laws.’
‘I know,’ said Fenella, striving to be upbeat when she was feeling anything but. ‘At least we had the carol service last Sunday, and not this afternoon. It’s one of my favourite parts of Christmas. It’s so lovely, with all the carols being sung by candlelight.’
‘The twins would have screamed through it,’ said Hugo, nodding. ‘Just as well you’ve had it. None of us would have heard a note.’
‘So maybe, with Lord and Lady Gainsborough coming, it’s jolly good you’ve got it over with. I mean, that you’ve had it,’ Zoe corrected herself. ‘And you must admit, your in-laws have a certain comic value,’ she added.
‘Yes!’ Sarah agreed. ‘They were hilarious at Glory’s christening.’
‘It’s different for you. They’re not your in-laws.’ Fenella would not be comforted.
‘We’ll protect you from them,’ said Zoe. ‘They think I’m your maid or your nanny or something anyway. It’ll be fine!’
Gideon laughed. ‘If you wore a maid’s outfit, they’d suspect Rupert of getting you pregnant and insist that he turns you out of the house on Christmas Eve.’
‘And on that note – happy Christmas,’ toasted Hugo.
Fenella began to see the funny side, grateful that her friends had a strong sense of the ridiculous.
Rupert took a tray out of the Aga. ‘Here, have some of these. Zoe brought them. Cheese straws, my favourite.’
Fenella got up. ‘I’d better take some upstairs to Meggie and your Frenchman.’
‘Do sit down for a few seconds, darling. You’re looking tired,’ said Rupert. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Why don’t I do it?’ said Sarah. ‘I need to go back up anyway and reclaim my children.’ Before Fenella or Rupert could object she’d grabbed a plate of cheese straws and swept out of the kitchen.
Meggie had been unable to speak when first joined in the bathroom by a gorgeous man and a bottle of champagne.
‘’Ello,’ he had said in an extremely sexy accent. ‘I’m Étienne, but in England they call me Steve.’
‘Oh? French for Steven, I see,’ said Meggie, thinking she’d be sticking to Étienne.
Étienne, having put down the glasses, eased the cork out of the champagne and poured. ‘What is your name?’ he asked as he handed her a glass.
‘I’m Meggie. I’m a sort of nanny.’
‘Nanny? Like a female goat?’
She laughed. He was teasing her but so charmingly she didn’t mind. And as she was already fairly pink from being in the bathroom for so long he probably wouldn’t notice her blush. ‘Probably, yes.’
Sarah came in holding a glass and a plate of cheese straws. ‘Champagne in the bath! How decadent! Although I doubt Rupert and Fen had this lot in mind when they designed this amazing bathroom. Happy Christmas!’
They all clinked glasses. ‘Now,’ went on Sarah, ‘I’d better take these two out—’
‘Why?’ asked Étienne. ‘They are happy?’
‘They are very happy,’ Sarah agreed. ‘But I expect you two want to go downstairs and join the party.’ She put down a bag full of baby clothes and other paraphernalia.
‘We want to stay here,’ said Glory and her sister nodded.
‘I’m quite happy here,’ agreed Meggie. ‘And the babies seem fine with me – with us.’
‘I too am very happy,’ said Étienne. ‘I miss my sister’s children.’
‘Oh,’ said Sarah, sympathetic, ‘it must be awful not being able to be with your family at Christmas.’
He shrugged. ‘C’est la vie.’
‘Why don’t you both go down and have a quiet drink with the others?’ suggested Meggie. ‘I expect the babies will need you quite soon but you could have a few moments off.’ Meggie knew very well how much mothers longed for snatched moments of baby-free time. Her stepmother never stopped talking about it and her mother looked grateful whenever Meggie held out her arms for her half-sister.
‘Good,’ said Étienne. ‘You go, we will “babysit”.’
Somehow this very mundane word was rendered sexy by his accent. ‘You don’t have to stay with me,’ said Meggie. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘And I will be fine with you, and the rest of this quite good champagne.’
Meggie wasn’t quite sure why Étienne was happy to stay with her. He certainly didn’t suffer from shyness and lack of confidence about joining the others.
‘Can we come with you, Aunt Sarah?’ said Glory.
‘Of course! If I take Glory and Simmy with me, I won’t feel so guilty about leaving you with my two.’ Sarah picked up her glass. ‘Are you really sure? Shout the moment it gets difficult! Come on, girls, let’s have a look at the tree. Father Christmas might have left something under it.’
‘Silly Aunt Sarah! Father Christmas only does the stockings, not the other presents.’
‘Sorry,’ said Sarah. ‘Forgot.’
‘You really didn’t have to stay with me,’ said Meggie to Étienne when Sarah had gone. ‘You could have a drink. Meet Fenella and Rupert.’
‘I have met Fenella and Rupert and, charming as they are, I prefer to drink champagne in this very pleasant bathroom with a pretty girl and these babies as my companions.’
Meggie took a while to think up something to say in reply. ‘You must like children.’
‘I do.’
‘So you must be s
ad you’re not with them at Christmas.’
He shrugged. ‘I will see them for Twelfth Night.’
He smiled (devastatingly, thought Meggie). ‘Actually, everyone is sad for me because I couldn’t go home for Christmas but I didn’t want to go home for Christmas.’
‘Why not?’
‘It is a little embarrassing. There is a football match I want to watch the day after.’
‘Oh.’
‘But you are also not home for Christmas? If you are here? These people are not your family?’
Meggie nodded. ‘They’re not. My parents are divorced. This year I was to go and spend Christmas with my father and stepmother but then my mother heard that Rupert had a lot of people so she offered my services as a nanny.’
Étienne frowned, his arms crossed. ‘And you are happy about this?’
Meggie nodded again. ‘Actually, yes. I hate spending Christmas with my father. My stepmother …’ She paused. Was it OK to slag off your stepmother to random Frenchmen? She decided it was. Her stepmother wouldn’t have hesitated to slag her off. ‘We don’t get on. She’s very critical. And I’d spend most of the time looking after their children anyway, although I do like them.’
‘And what does she find to criticise? A lovely girl who looks after her children is a good thing, no?’
‘She’s happy about me looking after the children but she doesn’t think I’m lovely. I’m not skinny enough for her.’ If she hadn’t had a glass of champagne she probably wouldn’t have said that. Even she knew enough to know you shouldn’t draw attention to your flaws.
‘Really? Stand up!’
She was perched on the edge of the bath. He took her hand and helped her to her feet and inspected her. ‘No, you are not skinny. You are perfectly lovely. This is why your stepmother hates you.’
Meggie was taken aback, and was about to protest but Étienne refilled her glass so she didn’t. ‘I am being paid to be Rupert and Fenella’s nanny. My father likes me to earn money. He’s rather lost interest in keeping me since he’s got a new family. He thinks I should be more financially independent.’
‘So they won’t miss you not being with them?’
‘Not really. As long as I’m there for New Year’s Eve. They’re having a big party and they want me to help and then babysit.’
‘Do you want to spend New Year’s Eve with your father? Don’t you want to go out with your friends?’
‘My friends don’t live in London where my father lives. It’s fine, really.’
‘Something about you is a little unhappy. Tell me.’
She managed a smile. ‘It’s not unhappy, it’s ironic. One of the other things my stepmother complains about is that I haven’t got a boyfriend, but if I did have one, I wouldn’t be willing to skivvy for her.’
‘This is a new word! Skivvy?’
‘It means do housework, like Cinderella. She was a skivvy before she met her Fairy Godmother.’
‘Ah! I know this story. Cendrillon. But your stepchildren? They are not ugly?’
Meggie laughed. ‘They’re my half-brother and-sister, and no, they’re sweet. They’ll probably have food issues when they’re bigger but they’re fine now.’
‘We will not concern ourselves with them any more.’ He tipped the last of the champagne into his glass.
Meggie was surprised how quickly they’d got through the bottle and worried that she might be drunk in charge of children. ‘I think we’d better get the babies out.’
Sarah had obviously had the same thought because she reappeared in the bathroom brandishing some more canapés. ‘Here – have these to go with the cheese straws. Or do you two want to go downstairs and have a drink? The girls are looking at the Christmas tree and being so sweet. Hugo will be up in a minute to help me feed these two.’
Meggie glanced at Étienne. ‘You go down. I’ll help Sarah feed the babies.’ She’d seen bottles in the baby bag.
His gaze lingered on her for a few seconds and then he shrugged. ‘OK. I’ll see you soon, Meggie.’
Meggie loved sitting on the sofa in the bridal suite with Sarah. They each had a baby and the dim lighting and the gentle sound of sucking were wonderfully soothing. She would have kept silent to help the babies drift off to sleep, but Sarah was more cavalier.
‘Étienne is rather gorgeous, don’t you think? Gideon was saying downstairs that all the girls in the office are a bit in love with him but that he’s very aloof in that Gallic way.’
‘He was very friendly to me,’ said Meggie, ‘and lovely with the children. Not aloof at all.’
‘Fenella is delighted to have you to help with the little ones but having Étienne so good with them as well is a real bonus. Rupert’s parents are a nightmare, and they’ll be arriving any minute.’
Meggie wasn’t sure Sarah should be gossiping with the nanny but wasn’t going to stop her. ‘In what way?’
‘They come from another era – pre-war probably, when everyone had servants and didn’t feel obliged to be polite to them. It’s a miracle that Rupert is so lovely. His parents are so haughty! And they can’t forgive Fenella for not having had a son.’
‘But isn’t it the man who determines—’
‘Yes! But try telling them that! Or rather don’t.’ Sarah glanced across at Meggie. ‘You seem to be a natural at this baby-feeding lark.’
Meggie laughed softly. ‘I’ve had practice. I’m thinking about being a nanny. I love children.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘You could earn lots of money but most of the time you’d be with children, other nannies and other women’s husbands.’ She paused. ‘Although if you do decide to be a nanny, please let me know. I’m always on the lookout for good childcare, along with half London.’
‘You’re a wedding planner, aren’t you?’ Meggie would normally have been too shy to start a conversation with someone like Sarah, but the intimacy of the occasion made it seem allowable.
‘Yes I am, although I do lots of other event planning as well. I quite often need casual staff if you want to leave me your details.’
‘I don’t think I’d be any good at events. I’m too shy. Those sort of people are all glamorous and outgoing.’
Sarah laughed, causing her baby to open its eyes briefly. ‘You’re not exactly unglamorous, if I may say so, and sometimes a lovely sincere smile is more effective than all the eyes and teeth some events people go in for. And I bet you’re reliable – turn up if you say you’re going to.’
‘Of course!’
‘Then please let me have your details and I’ll give you mine. I gather you’re at uni? If ever you want work during the hols I’m bound to have something.’
‘That would be very kind, although I don’t live in London. I really only go there to spend time with my dad.’
‘Well, the offer is there, and not all the work is London-based. If I had something more local to here I could let you know. Oh! I think I hear people coming!’
Although the babies were both sound asleep and could have been put in their travelling cots, by tacit agreement Sarah and Meggie didn’t go down to meet the new arrivals. They sat quite still as they overheard complaints about the journey and the coldness of the house, and shortly the stump stump stump of footsteps as Fenella’s in-laws came up the stairs.
‘I’ve put you in the Pink Room,’ said Fenella. ‘The bathroom is through here. It has a walk-in shower.’
‘How else are you expected to get into a shower?’ said an arrogant, impatient male voice. ‘Crawl? Of course it’s a bloody walk-in shower!’
Meggie and Sarah exchanged glances and tried not to giggle.
Fenella heaved a sigh of relief and caught Rupert’s eye. He was sitting at the other end of the kitchen table. They exchanged little smiles. They’d got everyone seated except the babies, who were asleep, and the little girls, who were playing with a pre-Christmas present provided by Zoe. Zoe and Gideon’s fish pie was in front of Rupert next to a pile of roasting-hot plates that would be impossib
le to pass but would satisfy his parents. Getting everyone sitting down, more or less in the places assigned to them by Sarah’s placement, had taken forever. But soon, Fenella realised with relief, she could leave the table to put the girls to bed. She knew she’d probably fall asleep with them, reading a Christmas story. She couldn’t go to bed properly for ages – there were stockings to organise – but a nap would be wonderful.
‘OK,’ said Rupert, plunging his serving spoon into the golden pastry that topped the pie. ‘I hope everyone’s hungry!’
‘Shall I pour the wine?’ asked Étienne.
‘Thank you,’ said Rupert. Fenella, up her end of the table, hoped the young Frenchman, whose family were great wine producers, approved of the vintage.
‘I hope this fish pie hasn’t got prawns in it,’ said Lady Gainsborough. ‘I’m allergic to prawns.’
Fenella’s gaze shot in query to Zoe.
‘No prawns,’ Zoe confirmed.
‘It’s just it makes me terribly ill if I have prawns,’ Lady Gainsborough went on, in case anyone was in doubt about what ‘allergic’ meant.
It was going to be a long meal, thought Fenella, plotting her escape.
It took Meggie a few moments to work out where she was. Then she remembered. It was Christmas morning and she was at Somerby. Then she became aware of a weight at the foot of her bed. A stocking! She was delighted. Her mother always did her one but her father and the Iguana thought she was too old for them. Feeling very happy, Meggie pulled the fat, stripy sock towards her and unpacked it. Fenella must have done it for her when she was feeling very tired and Meggie was touched. There was a chocolate orange in the toe (something her own mother always included – it took up a good amount of space), a miniature of Bailey’s Irish Cream (a very nice touch), a packet of Father Christmas tissues, a pair of socks and a trio of toiletries.