Page 72 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Kelly bent down, gave Catrin a kiss on the cheek and handed her a large gift bag. ‘Off you go. Have a wonderful time,’ she told her daughter. ‘I’ll be with the other mams and dads, if you need me.’ Kelly looked at Harriet. ‘Do you know where we’re supposed to go?’

‘Haven’t got a clue,’ Harriet said. ‘I’d be tempted to sit in my car for the duration, but I promised Sara I’d stick around.’

‘You can’t sit in yourcar,’ Kelly said. ‘Have a drink, at least. I fancy gin. It’s a shame I’m driving.’

‘Me too,’ Harriet said, her voice heartfelt. ‘I haven’t been looking forward to this.’

‘Whyever not?’

Harriet didn’t feel like telling Kelly the truth – that she was intimidated by the sheer luxury of the place and that the prices scared her. ‘I don’t know,’ she hedged. ‘It’s a bit over the top for a kiddies’ party, don’t you think?’

‘Ladies, are you with the birthday party?’ a well-modulated voice asked, and Harriet looked over her shoulder to see a woman stalking down the corridor, her high heels sinking into the carpet and her hips swaying with every step. She was made-up to the nines and wearing an outfit that wouldn’t have looked out of place at Ascot or a royal garden party. All it lacked was a hat.

‘We are,’ Kelly said. ‘Do you know where we are supposed to go?’

‘And whose mummy are you?’

‘I’m Kelly, Catrin’s mam, and this is Harriet, Sara’s mam.’

‘How wonderful! I’m Amanda, the birthday girl’s mum. I think you are the last to arrive, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to love you and leave you. No doubt I’m wanted inside. There’s a room just down here on the right, reserved for any parents who would like to stay. Feel free to help yourselves to some refreshments. I’m sorry, non-alcoholic only. Lovely to meet you, bye.’

And with that she breezed into the room and closed the door firmly behind her.

Harriet stared at Kelly. ‘Wow, so that’s Darlene’s mum?’ She kind of hadn’t expected anything less. But something niggled at her; for some reason she had the impression she’d met the woman before, but she couldn’t think where. She frowned, racking her brains, trying to remember, but gave up. It wasn’t important, and no doubt it would come to her eventually. ‘Shall we get a drink?’ she suggested.

‘Why not? And afterwards, do you fancy having a quick gander? I’m dying to have a look around this place.’

Glad that she wasn’t on her own, Harriet followed Kelly, feeling a little self-conscious as she walked into a room where over a dozen other parents were seated.

She looked around for somewhere to sit and found two chairs next to each other, with a little table in between. There was no sign of any refreshments, though, so after they sat down, Harriet immediately began to fidget. She could see other mams and dads – and a grandparent or two – with drinks, and she wondered if there was a bar they had to order from, but then she saw a lady in an old-fashioned maid’s outfit, complete with a white pinafore, approach.

‘What can I get you?’ the woman asked. ‘We have tea or coffee, or you can have a soft drink. I highly recommend the cordials.’

‘Tea for me, please,’ Harriet said, and looked at Kelly.

Before Kelly could give her order, the waitress said, ‘Would that be English breakfast tea, Darjeeling, Earl Grey, Lapsang Souchong, Rooibos? Or we have a selection of herbal teas.’

‘Breakfast tea, please, with milk.’

‘Certainly, madam. And for you?’

Kelly asked for coffee, strong and black.

Harriet waited until the waitress was out of earshot, before saying, ‘That’s some outfit she’s got on. I’m glad Pen doesn’t expect me to wear anything like that. I think I’d tell her where to get off.’

‘It is in-keeping, though. Talk about Downton Abbey! Look at that fireplace – it’s huge. I wonder if they ever light it. Have you seen the chandelier?’

Harriet looked up at the ceiling. ‘Good grief, it’s huge! Do you think it’s made of glass?’

‘I expect so. I don’t think they’d have a plastic chandelier in a place like this.’

Harriet was just about to say that she hoped it was secured firmly, because it must weigh a tonne, when Sara burst into the room.

‘Mammy!’ she cried. Her face was bright red and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

‘Oh my God, what’s wrong?’ Harriet leapt to her feet, knocking the small table over in her haste to reach her daughter.

Sara threw herself into her mother’s arms and sobbed. ‘I want to go home.’

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