‘Oh yes, we must hang up the mistletoe later,’ Noël agreed, ‘and have lots of green stuff in the sitting room. We were just about to go up into the attic and bring down the decorations when you arrived.’
‘Then I’ll leave you to it.’
Noël showed him out, while Jess got the giggles. ‘George fancies you!’
I carried on sedately stacking the mince pie plate and the mugs in the dishwasher. ‘He fancies my cooking, Jess, that’s all.’
‘Do you think he’s nice-looking?’
‘Yes, he’s very handsome, in a rugged, outdoor kind of way.’
Noël came back in. ‘It’s bitter out there, isn’t it? And what are these two bags he’s brought?’
‘They’re your sister’s — I suppose she thought she might as well send her overnight things up with George while she had the chance, in case the weather worsens. Jess, you could help me carry them up to her room while we’re going in that direction. Take the overnight bag and I’ll have the case.’
‘I’ll look through our mail later,’ Noël said.
‘There’s already a whole stack for Jude. It’s piled on that table in the front hallway,’ I told him.
‘I’ll bring it all in later and sort it out,’ he promised. ‘A lot of it is probably junk.’
We dumped the bags in the room that had been assigned to Becca and then Noël checked again on Tilda, who was fast asleep, before we carried on up past the nursery.
Jess gave the attic door a good shove and it opened reluctantly with a protesting screech.
‘Jude ought to get that fixed, it’s always sticking,’ Noël said, pressing down a light switch and illuminating a large space, well filled with the abandoned clutter and tat of centuries.
‘There’s another, smaller attic over the kitchen wing, but there’s nothing much in it, as I recall. In the days when there were several servants, I think some of them slept there.’
‘I hadn’t even noticed a way into it,’ I confessed.
‘It’s in a dark corner of the landing and looks like a cupboard door.’
‘That would account for it’.
Noël led the way to a dust-sheeted pile between a large trunk and a miscellany of broken chairs. ‘Here we are,’ he announced and Jess tore off the sheet eagerly.
‘We need all these boxes marked with a large C, and that red metal stand for the Christmas tree,’ he began, then noticed he’d lost my attention. ‘I see you are admiring the Spanish chest, m’dear?’
‘Yes, it looks ancient?’
‘Parts of the house are extremely old and the chest has always been here. We think it might be Elizabethan and came into the family when an ancestor married a Spanish bride, or perhaps a few years later. Did I mention that family legend has it that Shakespeare once visited Old Place, too?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘though it doesn’t surprise me, since they found those Shakespeare documents over at Sticklepond recently. He seems to have got about a bit, doesn’t he? You’d probably be hard-pressed to find any large house in West Lancashire that he wasn’t alleged to have visited!’
‘Very true!’ he acknowledged. ‘You know, until recently we used to act out Twelfth Night on New Year’s Eve: “If music be the food of love, play on. .”’ He sighed wistfully. ‘Oh well. .’
‘I’m not allowed to go in that chest for dressing-up things,’ Jess said.
‘No, the mumming costumes for the Revels are in it, though the heads are stored in the hayloft behind the Auld Christmas.’
‘The heads?’ I repeated.
‘The Dragon and Red Hoss and the Man-Woman’s hat and mask,’ he explained, though that didn’t make things much clearer: the opposite, if anything.
‘You know,’ he added, looking at me with a puzzled air, ‘you already feel so much like one of the family that I keep forgetting that you are not, and don’t know all our little ways and customs. But I have mentioned the Revels on Twelfth Night, haven’t I?’
I was glad to be thought of as one of the family, even though I was doubling as cook and general factotum, because I was in a strange position: it’s easier when I’m on cooking assignments, because then I’m definitely staff.
‘Is it Morris dancing? I’ve noticed the photographs, especially in the library.’
‘That’s right, dancing and a little play-acting — just a simple ceremony. .’ he said vaguely. ‘It takes place on the green in front of the Auld Christmas and has been performed for centuries, though of course there have been changes over the years. I’ll show you some more photographs after dinner, if you like?’
‘Thank you, that would be really interesting,’ I agreed, thinking that this might be a way of getting him to tell me more about his brother Ned.
‘Oh look — sledges!’ Jess said, spotting them leaning against the wall behind the boxes. ‘Two of them and they’re plastic, so they must have belonged to Uncle Jude and Guy.’
‘That’s right,’ Noël said. ‘There are a couple of old wooden ones around somewhere too, that we oldies had when we were children — or maybe they fell apart, I can’t remember.’
There was so much clutter; anything could be up there, including Santa and all his reindeer. It could do with a jolly good clear-out.
‘I think the blue one was Jude’s and the red one Guy’s, though I expect they fell out over that, too — Guy always wanted what his older brother had and they were forever squabbling.’
‘I suppose that’s natural,’ I said.
‘In a child, but perhaps not so allowable in an adult. . though now Guy’s getting married and settling down, I expect he will see things differently. There’s nothing like having children of your own to give you a new perspective on life.’
‘I was a mistake,’ Jess announced.
‘More of a very welcome surprise,’ amended her grandfather.
‘Would it be all right if I used one of the sledges, Grandpa?’
‘Take them both down, m’dear: perfect weather for sledging and perhaps Holly will join you. I wish my poor old bones were up to it,’ he added wistfully.
Jess carried the sledges downstairs first, then came back up and started ferrying down boxes of decorations to the sitting room. I took the tree stand and a carton marked ‘swags and door wreath’ while Noël clutched the box containing a precious antique hand-carved wooden Nativity scene. By the time we’d stacked everything in a corner of the sitting room, I had to go and start making lunch.
Tilda stubbornly insisted on coming downstairs and joining us for soup, egg sandwiches and chocolate cake. Apart from a slightly black eye, she looked a little better, though moving very stiffly. Afterwards she established herself on the sofa in the sitting room and exhibited a slight tendency to issue orders to all of us, but especially me, wanting to know exactly how I would be coping with the catering over Christmas. But I didn’t really mind that, because when I cook for house-parties I’m used to consulting over the menus, so I sat down with her for a good discussion.
‘Luckily the house is extremely well stocked and I always bring my cookery books, recipe notebook and favourite store cupboard ingredients with me, so there should be no problem. There’s a shelf of cookery books in the kitchen, too.’
When I’d leafed through one or two well-thumbed-looking ones, I’d found additions pencilled next to the recipes, so someone had been a keen cook: either the last housekeeper or perhaps Jude’s mother.
‘We might run out of fresh salad, fruit and perishable things if the village is snowed in, but we can get by without them,’ I added. ‘There’s loads of bread in the freezer, and butter, eggs, cheese, long-life juice, milk and cream. We certainly won’t starve.’
‘And you have everything you need for the traditional Christmas dinner?’ she asked.
‘Yes, there’s no problem there. I cooked the ham this morning and I’ve taken the turkey out of the freezer and put it in the larder to defrost slowly. What time do you usually have it? Are you a lunch or evening family?’
‘Right. . though perhaps we might like a change from turkey on Boxing Day? I noticed a whole salmon in one of the freezers and thought we could have that instead, then a second roast turkey dinner the next day, before I use up the remains in dishes like curry for the freezer.’
Tilda gave her gracious approval to all my plans, which was just as well, since I would have carried on regardless. I don’t let any of my clients interfere with my cooking, with the exception of dietary requirements; although since I smile and nod while listening to them issuing orders, I’m sure they think the resulting wonderful food is all their own idea.
‘We have champagne with Christmas dinner,’ Noël said, ‘but I’ll see to the drinks so you needn’t worry about that.’
‘I’ll need some more brandy for the pudding too,’ I told him, ‘because I used up what was in the decanter.’
‘I’ll go down and get some now and scout out what else Jude’s got in the wine cellar,’ he promised.
‘There’s no rush — let your lunch settle first,’ I suggested. ‘You’ve had a busy morning.’
‘And now that the main menus have been sorted, I think I’d like cake or scones for afternoon tea, today,’ Tilda said autocratically, before going back upstairs to rest.
‘Sorry, m’dear, she’s a bit bossy and she keeps forgetting you aren’t staff,’ apologised Noël.
‘Well, I suppose I am really, since I’m being paid to be here.’
‘Edwina doesn’t stand any nonsense, she just says to her, “You’ll get what you’re given, my lady, and like it!”’
I grinned. ‘You just can’t get the serfs to behave themselves these days, can you?’
‘I think of you more and more as one of the family,’ he said kindly, ‘though since we’ve made so much more work for you over Christmas, you deserve to be paid for it — and if Jude doesn’t do something about it, then we will make it up to you.’
‘Oh no, really — I’m enjoying the company and I love cooking,’ I insisted, because he is such a sweetie. ‘I’m perfectly happy with my house-sitting fee!’
Chapter 15
Advent
I meet N whenever I can slip away — I can’t help myself. He says we were meant to be together, he knew it from the moment he saw me and I feel the same way, though horribly guilty when I think of poor Tom. I did sincerely love him, just not in the way I now love N. .
February 1945
The sky, which had earlier been almost as blue as George’s eyes, had turned leaden again. Jess took one of the sledges up to the top of the paddock where it sloped quite steeply, while I finally got round to mucking out the loosebox. I’d only just started when the side gate clanged and I looked out to see Becca leading Nutkin through it.
‘Hell of a journey!’ she greeted me, closing the gate behind her. ‘I had to bribe George to bring my bags earlier — have they come? He’s making a mint out of the bad weather, the rascal.’
‘Yes, he dropped them off after breakfast and we’ve put them in your room. But I’m surprised to see you, since it isn’t very good weather for riding, is it?’
‘I led Nutkin on the worst bits, but I couldn’t leave him alone at home if there was a chance I’d get snowed in here, could I?’ she asked reasonably. ‘Weather’s closing in again, so I thought I’d better take the chance and come up now, especially with Tilda, Noël and Jess being here already.’
‘You mean — you’ve come to stay, too?’
‘That’s it,’ she agreed. ‘One more can’t make any difference to you, can it? In fact, it’ll be easier, because I can give you a hand with the horses.’
‘Great,’ I said faintly, though I suppose having an equine expert on hand would be a relief if we were snowed in. She put Nutkin in Lady’s loosebox and rubbed him down briskly with wisps of hay, then we went in to tell Noël she had arrived. Jess came too, since she said her fingers were freezing and so was her bottom.
Noël, who was snoozing on one of the sofas in the sitting room, woke up and blinked as we all trooped in. ‘Becca! This is a surprise!’
‘Weather’s getting worse, so I thought I’d send my bags up and come to stay now. I’ve brought Nutkin,’ she explained succinctly.
‘Well, how nice, a jolly family party!’ Noël rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s a pity the boys can’t be here too, but there you are.’
‘Stopped at the Auld Christmas on the way, to bring a little cheer.’ Becca reached into two deep pockets inside her waxed, caped coat and produced a bottle of sherry from each. ‘We’re all partial to a drop of good sherry. . which reminds me, where’s Tilda?’
‘Resting, but she’ll be down again later. She says she isn’t quite so stiff now the bruises have come out — though she’s black and blue, poor old girl!’
‘I brought some horse liniment — always does the trick for me.’
‘Yes, but it smells disgusting, Becca,’ he objected dubiously.
‘Nicholas Dagger said to tell you they were all set for Twelfth Night and rehearsed for the dancing.’
‘Good, good!’ he said. ‘Aren’t you going to take your coat off?’
‘No, I’m going straight back out to see to the horses,’ Becca said. ‘Lady’s loosebox still needs mucking out and I’ll have to make the other up for Nutkin.’
‘But you must be frozen, and I can do that,’ I offered.
‘Not at all — you’ve got enough on your plate already. But I’ll need Jess to wheel the barrow to the manure heap and fill the buckets.’
‘I’m allergic to horses and I’m cold and wet,’ Jess said sulkily. ‘I’d rather just help Grandpa get the decorations up.’
‘You mean you’re allergic to hard work,’ Becca said severely. ‘You don’t have to come near Lady or Nutkin. Now, run up to my bedroom and fetch the holdall — it’s got Nutkin’s rug and headcollar in it.’
Jess gave in, though not graciously.
I put on a large casserole to slow-cook for dinner, using some very nice beef from the freezer, home-grown carrots and a good splash of beer from a stash of large bottles I’d discovered on the stone floor of the larder, pushed well back under the bottom shelf. I drank what was left — it was best bitter and I probably needed the iron.
Jess came back in looking limp, so I suggested she go and start putting up the decorations with Noël when she had warmed up a bit.
But Becca, who was still full of energy, borrowed my radio and took it into the tackroom, where she was sitting cleaning Nutkin’s saddle when I followed her with a substantial slice of chocolate cake and a cup of tea to keep her energy levels up.
Later she made the hot mash and went out again to get Lady and Billy in, since it was starting to get dark, so she was proving to be worth her weight in pony nuts already.
Jess and I carried in the Christmas tree and managed to angle it into its red metal holder, though the top of it almost brushed the gallery above. Then she and Noël steadied the stepladder while I draped the garlands as they directed, from each corner of the room to the middle of the ceiling, and hung Chinese lanterns and baubles from the wall light fittings.
Then I left them unpacking the Nativity scene and went back to the kitchen, where even sober Radio 4 was intoxicated with the spirit of Christmas.
Luckily, no-one seemed to have any objection to eating meals off the kitchen table, which made life much easier than traipsing to and from the dining room with plates and platters, though we would use it on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, of course.
There was a chocolate blancmange rabbit for dessert, quivering on a bed of chopped green jelly, which proved surprisingly popular with everyone, not just Jess. It vanished right down to its tail and, what with that and the chocolate cake, I was starting to wish I had brought more than one tin of cocoa powder with me!
Tilda hadn’t got any at the lodge when I asked her, o
nly Ovaltine, which was not at all the same thing, but she thought the village shop stocked it, so another trip was clearly needed.
After dinner was cleared away (and thank goodness there was a dishwasher! If the electricity did go off, I only hoped the generator was up to running it), we retired to the half-decorated sitting room and Noël, as he had promised earlier, fetched the photograph albums that charted the Revels from the library.
They all seemed to feature the same strangely-dressed and masked figures and, as I had suspected, Morris dancing, though they carried swords. I don’t suppose they were real ones, though.
One picture of four tall, dark young men standing with a young version of Becca particularly interested me.
‘That’s me,’ Noël said, pointing to a handsome man, little more than a boy, ‘and that’s Jacob, my eldest brother, but he was killed at Dunkirk, poor chap. Ned was injured too, but later — that’s him next to Jacob and then Alexander, Jude’s father, who inherited Old Place.’
‘And then me,’ said Becca.
‘I recognised you instantly, you haven’t changed much,’ I told her, and she looked pleased.
‘Keep pretty fit, considering,’ she said. ‘Of course, I’m the youngest.’
I looked again at the photograph. ‘So. . what happened to Edward? You said he was injured?’
‘He had a bad leg injury, but they tried penicillin on it and he made a speedy recovery. It seemed he was going to settle down after that, but it wasn’t to be. . and he never played Red Hoss in the Revels again.’
Twelve Days of Christmas Page 14