Page 6 of The Christmas Invitation
3
Doomed
Apparently feeling that she’d sorted matters out to her own satisfaction, Clara levered herself out of the sofa’s clutches and shook out her cape.
‘That’s that, then, and you can stay with us as long as you need to, Meg. I suppose it depends how quickly you work.’
‘Actually, very quickly, once I’ve made the preliminary sketches: often only one or two sittings for the face. Then I use photographs on my iPad to put the finishing touches to portraits in my studio,’ I replied automatically, while gathering my resources to persuade her that what she was asking me was quite impossible right now. ‘But at the moment I can’t—’
‘I’m sure you’d much prefer to work entirely from life and since there’s a studio at the Red House, there’s no reason why not.’
I remembered earlier wishing the vital spark to paint would return and I reflected you should always be careful what you wish for, because now, despite my resistance, I’d begun toreallywant to paint Clara. Also, I’d realized that Henry Doome was the famous but reclusive poet, who, judging fromhis photographs, would also make an arresting subject … only not right now, when I’d just got home and was at such a low ebb.
I summoned up the dregs of my willpower and said resolutely, ‘Professor Mayhem Doome, I’d be delighted to accept the commission and I’m sure we can come to some arrangement for early next year, but you must see that it’s quite impossible before that.’
She gazed at me in surprise. ‘I fail to see any difficulties. In fact, everything seems to have fallen into place most serendipitously.’
‘Not really, because it’s less than three weeks before Meg comes home again for the Winter Solstice ceremony and the Yule feasting. She’s only here now because she had a lot of business to sort out,’ River said. ‘Nor should she be travelling up and down the country in the middle of winter so soon after her illness,’ he added, entirely discounting the endurance test I’d already been subjected to in the old Land Rover.
Clara was looking speculatively from me to River. ‘Did you say the Winter Solstice? Do you then celebrate the shortest day of the year and Yule at your farm, rather than Christmas?’
‘We do indeed, and have a special ceremony in a sacred spot nearby, followed by a week of feasting and celebration. Megalwayscomes home for that.’
Well, I’d always at least made it for the ceremony, though the feasting could last even longer than a week, with much consumption of River’s home-made mead, which always made the holiday memorable … or rather, unmemorable, since it was strong enough to fell hard-drinking men like ninepins.
‘What a coincidence! We also have a ceremony every year at Starstone Edge, on the night of the Winter Solstice,’ she said. ‘Meg could go to that instead.’
‘Starstone?’ said River eagerly. ‘I’ve heard rumours of the Starstone ceremony, and that it’s based on a very old ritual!’ Then he added wistfully, ‘I’d like to see that myself.’
‘Then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. You can stay with us; there’s plenty of room,’ she offered. ‘You’ll be able to see how Meg’s portraits are coming along, too.’
I opened my mouth to remind her that I hadn’t agreed to start on the commission before the following January, but only a croak came out.
She’d certainly pressed the right buttons with River, however, because he was looking very tempted. ‘That’s extremely kind of you, but I’m never away from the Farm for the important ceremonies of the year, especially this one.’
I didn’t see why he should deny himself this treat, whether I was there or not. ‘But you said yourself last year that the climb up the mountain to ignite the bonfire was getting a bit much and you were going to hand over the ceremonial staff to Oshan,’ I pointed out. ‘He’s perfectly capable of managing it on his own. You could still get home after this Starstone ceremony in time for the feasting.’
‘I suppose I could …’ he agreed, mulling it over. ‘It’s extremely kind of you to invite me, Professor Mayhem Doome.’
‘Call me Clara, both of you. The rest of it makes me sound like a firm of dodgy solicitors. And I’m so glad you feel able to come.’
‘If Meg’s finished the portraits by then, she can return to the Farm with me after the Solstice,’ River suggested.
I stared speechlessly at them both, for there seemed to have been a sudden seismic shift and it appeared now to be taken for granted that I was going to Starstone as Clara decreed.
‘I’m sure she’ll need a little longer than that to paint both of us,’ Clara said. ‘In fact, I hope she’ll stay on and celebrateChristmas with us, and then she can complete both portraits afterwards, at her leisure.’
‘But I’ve never celebrated Christmas,’ I objected, last ditch, because although I was perfectly capable of turning the suggestion down, the growing desire to paint Clara was sapping my will to resist any further. ‘If I do begin the portraits before Christmas, then I’ll go to the Farm after the Solstice and complete them in the studio.’
‘Nonsense! Everyone should experience a proper family Christmas at least once in their lives,’ she said. ‘There’ll be a house full, I expect, and Henry loves the traditions, so we’ll have the tree, the stockings, the giant plum pudding … the even more gigantic cake, the—’
‘I’m afraid I’m vegetarian, so I’d be a nuisance,’ I interrupted hastily, though there was a certain fascination about the prospect offered. A proper family Christmas … what would that be like?
‘No problem at all,’ Clara said airily. ‘So are we all at the Red House, in a manner of speaking. It’s because of Henry: he’s vegetarian most of the time, though he eats a small amount of fish and seafood too.’
‘Pescetarian?’ suggested River helpfully. ‘But so are Meg and I – what a coincidence!’
‘Perfect!’ Clara beamed at us and gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. ‘There we are then, that’s all settled. Now, what time shall I collect you tomorrow, Meg?’
