Page 133 of The Christmas Invitation
‘There you are, dear,’ said Tottie. ‘We’ve saved you some fried eggs and potato cakes: we’re having a blowout.’
‘Mummy says she can eat what she likes now, if she’s not being an actor any more,’ Teddy told me.
‘To a degree: I don’t want to turn into a barrel of lard,’ said Zelda, who was looking workmanlike in a retro film-starry way, in jeans and a jumper, a scarf tied pirate-fashion over her hair and big gold hoop earrings.
Sybil didn’t look as if she’d slept very well and wished me a wan good morning. I couldn’t imagine anyone looking less like a homicidal maniac. She was feeding bits of toast to Wisty and Lass under the table, while Pansy was polishing three dog bowls with her tongue, in case any last morsel had been overlooked.
In this warm domestic scene, what I’d been thinking about Sybil seemed impossible. Perhaps all those crime novels of Clara’s I’d been reading had pervaded my imagination?
‘Henry and I were working, but we couldn’t resist the smell,’ said Clara.
I sat down next to her and Den whipped the cover off a dish with a flourish and set it in front of me.
‘Thanks, Den,’ I said.Imight be the one turning into a tub of lard, but I couldn’t resist it.
‘Coffee?’ asked Tottie, pushing the pot in my direction. ‘Just made it. Lex has gone out to look at the road, but he’ll be back in a minute.’
‘I am back,’ said Lex’s deep voice behind me. ‘Pete was out on the tractor gritting and he said he’d spoken to Fred at the pub on the phone and there’s no snow at all in Thorstane.’
‘Typical,’ said Henry. ‘You only have to get to the pub and they have a whole different weather system from ours.’
‘Pete thinks we’ll be snowed in for Christmas,’ Lex said. ‘They’re going to try to keep the road open up towards the tops, if they can, because of the animals, so someone could always get across if there’s an emergency.’
‘I sincerely hope there won’t be, though after a few days of Piers, Flora may possibly consider getting him out of her house an emergency,’ suggested Clara.
Lex sat down and I passed the coffee pot across. I’d avoided looking at him till now, but when I did he smiled warmly at me and I returned it before looking quickly away again, feeling my face going pink. The trouble with having such pale skin is that every change of colour shows, however slight.
Clara finished the last of her egg and sighed with satisfaction. ‘I’m going back to the memoirs shortly, because I want to bring this volume to completion by Christmas, if I can. And I think you all have plans for the morning?’
‘Me and Den and Tottie are going to make a chocolate log,’ said Teddy importantly.
‘And then we’ll ice the second Christmas cake, the one for the Boxing Day bash,’ said Tottie.
‘Do a lot of people come to that, even in this kind of weather?’ I asked.
‘Oh, yes, if they can get through, then they wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ said Henry. ‘Like the Gathering.’
A door opened somewhere and I could hear the tinny sound of radio music and running water from the scullery.
‘That’s Olive. She’s giving the house a final tidy up before Christmas,’ said Tottie.
‘Her only drawback is that she carries her radio around with her and is addicted to the inanities of Radio 2,’ said Clara.
Olive’s head appeared round the side of the scullery door. ‘I heard that – and I find it soporific.’
‘I think you mean calming, otherwise you’d be sleeping while you cleaned,’ suggested Henry.
‘Soothing,’ amended Olive.
‘Would you like a cup of tea or coffee and some toast, Olive?’ asked Clara.
‘No, I’ll do the upstairs bathrooms and then have me elevenses after that.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Clara, and the head vanished.
‘We’re heading up to Underhill shortly,’ said Lex. ‘Meg and I’ll be back for lunch, but I expect Mark will run Zelda home later.’
‘And you will give me a portrait sitting later, won’t you, Tottie?’ I asked her.
