Page 146 of The Christmas Invitation
Sybil came down looking as if this might be her last meal before doing a Nurse Cavell next morning, rather than an enjoyable family Christmas Eve dinner.
She had applied a brave red lipstick, but entirely forgotten to change out of her breeches, so that a faint but not unpleasant fragrance of horse hung about her.
I preferred that to the unsettling perfume.
Everyone was very kind to her, as if she was ill … which I suppose she was, or at least had been at the point where she attempted to kill me. But I, too, found myself talking gently to her about innocuous subjects, like favourite honeys and the way bees danced to communicate with one another.
‘As a written language, that could present some interesting translation problems,’ said Clara.
‘Bees don’t have hands,’ Teddy pointed out. ‘I don’t see how they could write.’
‘It would certainly make things difficult for them,’ agreed Henry.
Den joined us for dinner, but then said he was off to his flat afterwards, since he’d marked a full evening’s TV viewing inhisRadio Times. ‘And I’ve got a tub of Cheese Footballs and some Twiglets, ’aven’t I?’
‘The old ones are the best,’ commented Henry, though I thought it was odd that a man who could whip up delicious party savouries would prefer bought snacks himself.
Teddy grew steadily more excited as the evening progressed and I didn’t see how he’d ever calm down enough to go to sleep that night.
We listened to Henry read the second half ofA Christmas Carol, then Lex, Zelda and I played Monopoly with Teddy until he began to flag a little.
‘Time to get the snack ready for Santa and the reindeer?’ suggested Tottie eventually.
A mince pie, two carrots and a small glass of whisky were laid out on a pedestal table by the fireplace, and Lex promised he’d be sure to extinguish every last ember of the fire, long before Santa was due to descend the chimney.
Teddy was finally persuaded to go to bed and Tottie took him up, but not before he’d issued his commands: ‘Mummy has to come too and sing “Little Donkey”, then Uncle Henry can read the special book.’
‘Special book?’ I asked.
‘The Night Before Christmasby Clement Clarke Moore,’ explained Henry. ‘Do you know it?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘I’ll bring it down with me afterwards and then you can read it. It’s a lovely little story.’
When he was called upstairs to perform this annual rite, Clara said cheerfully, ‘There we are, then: we’re on the last lap before the big day! Just the presents to arrange and Teddy’s stocking to fill.’
‘I did love filling Mark’s stocking when he was a little boy,’ Sybil said. ‘It seems odd not being with him on Christmas Eve … or when he opens his gifts in the morning.’
‘But he’ll be here for Christmas dinner,’ said Clara. ‘River, do drink Santa’s whisky and eat the mince pie if you fancy them. We can return the carrots to the kitchen. Teddy won’t notice.’
‘I’ve never had a Christmas stocking,’ I said. ‘Do you hang it on the end of his bed?’
‘No, Teddy hangs his on the outside door handle to his room and Santa then fills it and hangs it on the inside.’
‘That way, you don’t have to wait hours for him to fall asleep before you fill his stocking,’ said Lex, then added, ‘It’s odd that though Zelda and I never hang our stockings up any more, Santa still keeps leaving them.’
He grinned at Clara, who remained deadpan.
Zelda and Tottie came down and Henry soon followed, carrying a large, knitted stocking with a red velvet ribbon loop at the top.
‘Fast asleep,’ he reported. ‘I barely finished reading the book and he was off.’
He handed meThe Night Before Christmas, an illustrated version, and I read it with interest: I could see why it had annual appeal.
The presents were brought out and Teddy’s ranged around the tree in the drawing room, while ours went under the one in the hall.
We all added our own contributions and there was something for everyone … including, to my surprise, Piers.
