Christmas at Mistletoe Cottage

by Lucy Daniels

  Mandy stared at Helen in confusion. ‘But I’ve already met the twins,’ she pointed out.

  Helen nodded. ‘Wasn’t that when you were still with Simon? Even if Jimmy liked you back then, he wouldn’t have been introducing you as a girlfriend.’

  Mandy frowned. Was it really possible that her question had offended Jimmy? He talked about the twins often enough, but it was true he had never suggested that they all hang out together. She ran her hands through her hair. He had kind of brushed off her question without answering, but she still didn’t believe it was enough to have put him off calling her back. He’d told her he’d ring her afterwards.

  ‘Mandy?’ She was jolted out of her reverie by Helen’s voice. Almost at the same time, she heard the door opening and turned around to welcome the next client.

  It was Roo Dhanjal. As Roo pulled open the door, Mandy felt a shock of alarm. Roo’s beautiful face was crumpled with worry. Was something wrong with one of the young cats she had adopted in the summer?

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Mandy blurted out. ‘Is it one of the kittens?’

  Roo viewed her for a moment with surprise. ‘No,’ she said, ‘they’re fine. It’s …’ She paused and fiddled with the strap of her bag. ‘We’ve had a really bad review,’ she confessed. ‘On TripAdvisor. About the campsite.’

  Poor Roo. Mandy was sympathetic. ‘I know most people are lovely,’ she said, ‘but there are a few who’re not so nice. You shouldn’t take it to heart.’

  Roo shook her head. ‘You don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Someone wrote that their stay was ruined by barking and dog mess from Hope Meadows. They mention it by name. I’m sorry. I thought you should know.’ Her mouth twisted with unhappiness. ‘We’ve asked TripAdvisor to take it down,’ she said. ‘They’ve removed it, but it was there for two days before we saw it.’

  Mandy felt a surge of nausea wash through her. Behind the desk, Helen looked horrified.

  Roo shook her head ‘I don’t understand it,’ she went on. ‘We’ve never heard the dogs barking. Even outside. And there’s no mess that we know of. I know you tidy up after yourself.’

  Mandy glanced down at her hands. They were shaking. Is this what Grandad meant when he talked about things escalating?

  ‘I’m not sure what it was,’ Roo was saying, ‘but it seemed so personal.’ She pursed her lips, her dark eyes on Mandy’s face. ‘You don’t think …’ She stopped, then started again. ‘You don’t think someone might be trying to cause trouble, do you?’

  Mandy couldn’t speak. There must be. But who could hate Hope Meadows so much?

  ‘What about the hole in the hedge and the cancelled food order?’ Helen put in. She started to tell Roo. Mandy wanted to clap her hands over her ears, shut out the list of mishaps and coincidences that were piling up.

  Instead, she rested her hands on top of the counter, willing them to keep still. ‘Why would anyone have a problem with the rescue centre?’ she said calmly when Helen had finished. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘What about Mr Powell, with the donkeys?’ Helen suggested. ‘You said he was raging.’

  ‘He was,’ Mandy agreed, ‘but the hole in the hedge appeared before I met him.’

  Grandad had been right, she thought. She needed to write everything down. The order things happened in might be important. ‘I did wonder about Geoff Hemmings,’ she admitted. ‘He was very angry when Flame went after his rabbits, understandably, but she didn’t actually do any harm.’ Mandy pressed her lips together as she remembered something else. ‘He told Ellen Armstrong that someone was complaining about Hope Meadows in the Fox and Goose,’ she said.

  Helen stood up and put her arm around Mandy’s shoulders. ‘I know it seems awful,’ she said, ‘but there are loads of us who think Hope Meadows is brilliant. If you like, I can do some detective work. We could try and find out who’s behind it.’

  She sounded so enthusiastic that, despite everything, Mandy laughed. ‘You can try if you like, Miss Marple,’ she said. ‘But I think I might ring Ellen.’ It had seemed ridiculous when Tom Hope had suggested going to the police. Mandy would give it a day or two, she thought, to see if Helen unearthed anything obvious. Then if nothing was resolved, she would give Ellen a call.

  ‘I’d better get back,’ Roo told them. ‘I left Josh in charge of the children, the cooking, and the campsite. It’s a bit much, even for him. I’m so sorry, Mandy.’ With an apologetic wave, she let herself out of the surgery.

  Helen followed Roo to the door and locked it behind her, then turned off the main light. ‘Come on,’ she said to Mandy. ‘Even if there is some nutjob on the loose, there’s still your lovely new cottage to explore.’ Mandy beamed. She had completely forgotten that she was a homeowner!

  ‘Lucy! Sky!’ Opening the door to the kitchen, Helen called to her beloved Flat Coat as well as to Mandy’s much loved collie. Lucy and Sky stood up from where they had been lying curled together in front of the stove. They trotted over. ‘I’ll drive,’ Helen offered.

  ‘Let’s take the Land Rover,’ Mandy suggested. ‘The track will probably be very overgrown.’

  It was thoroughly dark outside. As Helen steered the vehicle down the lane, Mandy noticed that more of their neighbours had put up Christmas decorations. Curtains had been left open to reveal fir trees laden with baubles and twinkling coloured lights. They were three days into December, Mandy realised. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could have Lamb’s Wood in a habitable state by Christmas? It wasn’t long, but she had never been afraid of hard work. A few months ago, Simon had been trying to railroad her into leaving Welford to tie herself to him and to Leeds forever. For the past few months, she had been back with her parents. Although she loved them and was happy to be surrounded by her family again, the purchase of Lamb’s Wood Cottage felt like a positive step towards being a fully independent adult.

  The track up to the cottage was indeed becoming overrun. The Land Rover lurched over the ruts and Helen had a job to keep the wheels straight. Brambles lashed the windscreen and dragged at the tyres. At times, the headlights seemed to be shining into an impenetrable hedge between the ancient trees. But Helen ploughed on and eventually the foliage released them in front of the tumbledown barns.

  Pushing open the door, Mandy climbed down and waited while Helen loosened the seatbelts for Sky and Lucy. The two dogs erupted from the car and disappeared into the darkness. Mandy grabbed the torches she had put in the glove compartment and handed one of them to Helen. It was a chilly night and for a moment, they stood there in the gloom, letting their eyes adjust. The sky above was a clear velvet blue. A full moon hung low over the trees, its cold light illuminating stark winter branches and the hunched outline of the fell on the far side of the valley. Sky was only away for a few seconds before she reappeared, but when Lucy didn’t immediately return, Mandy felt a swell of nervousness. What if there really was a ‘nutjob on the loose’, as Helen had put it? Could he have followed them here?

  Shivering, she called, ‘Lucy!’ and was relieved when a crescendo of rustling culminated in the black dog emerging from the shadows, her whole body wagging.

  The path through the front garden was almost invisible, but some of the weeds had died back with the onset of winter and Mandy was able to bash a way through. Sky and Lucy could be seen in flashes as they rushed in and out of the torch beams. Both had their noses to the ground and their tails high in the air. Their enthusiasm for every outing, no matter how unusual, always made Mandy smile.

  She reached the front door. Helen stood back and nodded to Mandy, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Welcome home!’ she whispered.

  With an odd feeling of reverence, Mandy pulled the key from her pocket. For better or worse, the cottage was hers. Although the key was stiff, she twisted it with her cold fingers and finally, with a grating noise, the door was unlocked. Gripping the handle, Mandy turned it and with Helen’s help, she pushed open the door.

  As Mandy stepped inside, she felt a rush of
emotion. She had first set foot in the house years ago with James, when they had come to help Robbie with his ferrets. Even then, the little cottage had felt welcoming. When she had been here in the summer, the circumstances had been awful, with Robbie Grimshaw being taken away and neglected animals in every corner. But the house had still felt special. It was where she had found Sky, after all.

  She had been meaning to visit Robbie for ages. Now, standing inside his old house making plans, it felt even more important to see him. After his spell in hospital, he had been moved to a residential home. It was only in Walton. She would try to find the time very soon, she thought.

  As her torch cast a pale line across the hallway to the carved wooden spindles of the staircase, Mandy felt a nudge behind her knees. It was Sky. The collie’s ears were back and her eyes looked nervous in the torchlight. Mandy crouched beside her, her hand caressing the soft fur. ‘It’s okay,’ she murmured. She wondered what memories Sky held from living in the cottage. Robbie had never done anything to mistreat his dog, but her life had been very limited and unhappy. Sky would have known that her owner was sick and unable to care for his animals.

  Sky’s tail flickered on the stone floor. When Mandy stood up and walked into the kitchen, Sky stayed beside her, an anxious, feather-footed shadow. The last time Mandy had been in here, there had been overflowing bins and rotten potatoes all over the floor. Someone had been in since then and roughly cleaned up, but the ancient oak table still stood under the window. The moon shone gently into the room, picking out the old-fashioned cupboards and rickety stove.

  Mandy ran her hand over the cupboard doors. They seemed more or less intact, so perhaps she could get away with cleaning them and rubbing them down rather than replacing them. The stove stood near the centre of the wall opposite the window. It was made of cast iron, and looked heavier than Bill the Shire horse. The top was flat with a solid ring where a kettle could be boiled. She wouldn’t be cooking a three-course Christmas dinner, Mandy realised with a wry inward smile.

  Raking up the wall, Helen’s torch picked out a flimsy wire that crossed the ceiling and dangled a bare light bulb above their heads. Mandy found herself ducking instinctively. She would need to get an electrician here as a priority.

  ‘It could be really cosy in here,’ Helen declared. She was being generous, Mandy thought, but she couldn’t help being relieved that Helen saw potential in the little house, too.

  She directed the beam of her torch at the oak table and chairs. ‘I know they’re filthy, but I like these,’ she said. ‘If I can get them clean, I think I’ll keep them. It’d be difficult to find one to fit better.’

  Helen let out a sigh. ‘It really will be lovely,’ she said. Mandy walked over to the sink. Although it was rusty, she managed to turn on the cold tap. The water that spluttered out was rusty looking as well, and after a few seconds it stopped.

  ‘Maybe there’s a stopcock somewhere,’ Helen suggested. For a moment, Mandy considered going down on her hands and knees to search under the sink, but it would be better to investigate in daylight, she decided. Anyway, if there was a cold snap, it was just as well that the water was switched off.

  They explored the rest of the cottage. The room opposite the kitchen had a lovely brick fireplace. The green wallpaper would have to come down, but there were spaces on either side of the chimney breast where Mandy could put bookshelves. Sky’s basket would lie in the corner on the far side of the fire. In her mind’s eye, she pictured a big L-shaped sofa and comfy chairs covered in soft tartan throws.

  The staircase seemed sturdy enough, so it just needed some paint and a new carpet. Mandy would ask James what he thought about colour. Something warm, perhaps, like russet. Helen climbed the stairs and turned left into the little bedroom that looked out across the valley from under the eaves, but Mandy turned right into the master bedroom. This was where she had found Sky. When she stopped, the little collie sat down beside her. She looked up at Mandy and her thick black tail started to wag, sweeping across the floorboards. Bending down, Mandy buried her face in Sky’s coat. She smelled of hay and leaves, sweet and clean.

  ‘What do you think, girl?’ she whispered. Sky put her head on one side. Her soft ears pricked as she listened. ‘Would you like to come home? I know you’ve slept here before, but this time, we’ll be together.’ The tail twitched again. Reaching up, Sky licked Mandy’s ear.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ Mandy said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mandy glanced at the clock on her dashboard. There should be just enough time, she thought. She was on her way to visit Robbie Grimshaw. It would be the first time she had seen him since that awful day in the summer when she had helped the police to disarm the confused old man.

  Mandy had left Sky behind with her parents. She had a feeling Robbie would enjoy seeing Sky at some point, but she needed to check it was okay to bring a dog into the home. And that Robbie was mentally clear enough to understand that he couldn’t keep Sky with him. Mandy’s heart skipped. She couldn’t imagine the pain of having to give up your beloved animals because you were too old to care for them. Poor Robbie.

  The Rowans turned out to be an impressive double-fronted Victorian house, set back from the road in its own grounds. There were extensive lawns to the front, dotted with evergreen trees and bushes. An elderly lady, well wrapped up, was walking on a pathway between the trees, using a zimmer frame to steady herself. Beside her, a nurse in pastel trousers topped by a padded jacket and hat hovered attentively.

  Outside the front door, in a covered porch, a smartly dressed man in a wheelchair seemed to be enjoying the winter sunshine. He nodded to Mandy as she approached. ‘Nice day for December,’ he remarked.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Mandy agreed.

  The front door was closed so Mandy rang the buzzer. The door was made of white-painted wood with a large window of textured glass. On the far side, she could see a graceful arched hallway.

  An auxiliary, dressed in a uniform the same colour as the nurse’s trousers, came and opened the door. A wave of warm air hit Mandy accompanied by the unmistakeable smell of overboiled cabbage, but the auxiliary’s smile was welcoming. A name badge showed her name was Linda. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked, pulling the door wide to let Mandy inside.

  ‘I’m Mandy Hope. I’ve come to see Robbie Grimshaw, if that’s possible,’ Mandy said.

  From an open doorway on the right, she heard a sudden wail, which rose to a crescendo, then fell to a quiet sobbing. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Outhwaite,’ came a voice. ‘I can pick it up for you. Here you go.’ A shuffling sound, then the voice again. ‘It’ll be fine now.’ After a few moments, the sobbing stopped.

  ‘Robbie Grimshaw?’ The auxiliary regarded her with a smile. ‘Of course you can see him. He can be a bit confused sometimes, but he’s very gentle and loves watching the birds outside his window. He’s got a visitor already today. His nephew comes quite often. I’m sure he won’t mind if you join them.’

  Mandy was relieved to hear that Mr Grimshaw had found some kind of peace here. He had seemed so hostile and terrified when she had seen him in the summer. Not only that, but there was a nephew visiting. Mandy hadn’t realised he had family nearby. He had seemed so alone.

  With directions from the auxiliary, Mandy found her way up a broad staircase and along a wide corridor to Robbie’s room. It was a beautiful building, and well maintained. The walls were freshly painted in warm colours and the carpet looked brand new. Through an open doorway, she caught sight of another auxiliary seemingly deep in conversation with one of the residents.

  She stepped through the open door of Mr Grimshaw’s room. It too was thoughtfully decorated in a soothing shade of green. A door in one corner was ajar to reveal an en-suite bathroom. The room itself was spacious and airy, with a double bed in the centre and a large window overlooking the front garden. Two armchairs stood by the window, each with an occupant. In one sat Robbie Grimshaw himself. Mandy was pleased to see he was neatly dress
ed in trousers and a long-sleeved polo shirt. A young man sat opposite. He was tall and thin with dark hair, and was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t look up when Mandy entered.

  ‘Hello,’ Mandy said.

  Hearing her voice, the young man lifted his head with a sharp intake of breath. He had the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen. They were huge and striking, rimmed with lashes so dark he might have been wearing eye-liner. If Mandy had hoped to avoid startling him, she failed spectacularly. The expression on his face mirrored that of a fox caught raiding a bin. He launched himself out of the chair, then paused just long enough to reach down and squeeze Mr Grimshaw’s hand. ‘I have to go now, Uncle Bob,’ he muttered.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Mandy said. ‘You don’t have to. I could get another chair,’ she suggested, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He must be terribly shy, she thought.

  But the young man shook his head. ‘I have to go,’ he said again. He glanced down at the phone, gripped in his long pale fingers. ‘Goodbye,’ he said, and with a nod of his head, he strode out of the room.

  Mandy looked after him, feeling rather sorry. She was delighted that Robbie had someone to visit him, and she wished she hadn’t scared him away. She would have liked to speak to a member of Robbie’s family and tell them how honoured she was to be the new owner of Lamb’s Wood Cottage.

  Robbie didn’t seem to notice that he had lost one visitor and gained another. He was gazing out of the window as if his head was filled with peaceful thoughts. Mandy felt a pang as she looked at his tidy hair and realised that it had been combed in a different direction than the one she remembered. She told herself that Robbie was being well cared for, which was all that mattered.