Page 105 of The Christmas Invitation
‘We’d better get off,’ said Lex. ‘Is it still snowing?’
‘Yes, though that sudden wind has dropped as quickly as it got up.’ Mark’s eyes went beyond me and I turned to see Flora with Rollo, though I hardly recognized him, since he was enveloped in a battered caped raincoat that covered him from collar to heels. He was in the act of pulling the wide hood over his head to complete the mad monk impersonation and avoided looking at me, but instead thanked Mark for the loan of the coat.
‘That’s all right. It’s an old one of my grandfather’s that hangs in the back hall for anyone to borrow, so there’s no hurry to return it.’
‘I’ll bring it when I come over tomorrow afternoon, once I’ve run Rollo back to Thorstane, Mark,’ Flora said brightly. ‘We havesomuch to catch up on and I want to hear all about these renovations.’ She smiled winsomely up at him, her face framed in snowy white fake fur.
‘I’m afraid I’ll be too busy for visitors,’ he said with more haste than tact. ‘Mum’s going to the Red House tomorrow to stay over Christmas, so I can press on with the work here.’
‘Really? But you don’t want to be alone at Christmas, surely?’ she said, widening her big eyes at him. ‘And anyway,I’mnot a visitor, am I? I can help you, too.’
Mark might have behaved badly, but she was now starting to remind me of a small, pretty, but predatory fairy, red of fang and sharp of nails. The dark sort you found in some old stories: a bit Grimm.
Rollo had sidled up to me unnoticed and now said in a low voice, ‘Meg, since I’ve come all this way and caught a chill, surely you’ll let me come and see you in the morning, before I go?’
‘Now, how can I put this tactfully, Rollo?’ I mused aloud. ‘No!’
‘You’re terriblyhard, aren’t you?’ said Flora, gazing at me sadly, with her head on one side, like a bird. A small vulture, possibly. Or maybe a buzzard, circling over a new kill. ‘Poor Rollo!’
‘Poor Rollo nothing,’ I snapped. ‘And if it was me he came to see, then he’s standing right in front of me now, isn’t he?’
Rollo glowered in his best Byronic fashion, though under the hood and with a pink-tipped nose and watery eyes, it didn’t come off too well.
‘Apparently, the forecast is for heavy snow tonight, so you’d be better going straight back to the motel while you can,’ I suggested.
‘Oh, it won’t bethatbad – and don’t worry, becauseI’lllook after him,’ Flora told me.
I bet she would.
Then she turned her full wattage on Lex, smile and fluttering eyelashes working overtime: she obviously couldn’t be near any personable man without giving it her best shot.
‘Oh, Lex, will you tell Clara that I’ll pop in and see Teddy some time soon?’ she cooed and then added to me, ‘He adores me. I was his nanny, you know. I saw him earlier, but he can’t have spotted me or he’d have come over to say hello.’
‘He did, but Fred was teaching him the vanishing handkerchief trick with Clara’s bandanna,’ Lex said. ‘That was much more exciting.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ she said, pouting.
‘I’ll just say goodnight to Sybil and then I’m ready to go,’ I said quickly to Lex, suiting the action to the words.
I’d have liked to have said goodbye to Pansy too, but Mark had shut the dogs up in the morning room.
We were the last to leave, and the Gidneys had already half-cleared the trestle table. The platter that had held the huge treacle cake was now bare, apart from a scattering of crumbs.
Rollo and Flora had gone, and I thought if she had any sense at all, she’d drive him straight back to the pub tonight and leave him there.
Mark had taken me by surprise by kissing me in an uncousinly way under a bunch of mistletoe before I left, and as I climbed into the front of the pick-up next to Lex, he said, ‘Perhaps you’d rather have let Mark drive you home? He seems to have recovered from that slight hiccup when he heard you were related and suspected you were after his money, doesn’t he?’
‘No, I wouldn’t, and what I said at the mill was true: I’m not interested in him that way and I’m sure he isn’tseriouslyinterested in me, either.’
I did like him, though, and he’d been kind tonight. When we’d first met I’d thought he was mean to Sybil, but I’d come to realize that he was driven by his love for Underhill to do whatever it took to keep it.
‘I’m sure he’d like your help with the decorating,’ Lex suggested.
‘He’ll have to make do with Flora’s. I’m a portrait painter, not a decorator’s mate.’
The front seat of the pick-up was a long bench-style one and I kept a good space between us, hoping the heater would soon kick in, as Lex headed down the drive.
In the headlights the snow was swirling down in quite large, flat wafers that settled on the ground.
