Page 150 of The Christmas Invitation
‘That’s Conker,’ explained Tottie. ‘He’s an Exmoor and he’s coming here on long loan at half-term to be your pony.’
‘You can graze him with my horses, like we did with the Shetland we borrowed,’ said Sybil. ‘In fact, he’s coming from the same friends, whose youngest has just outgrown him.’
‘I’ll buy you a new riding hat and paddock boots when he arrives,’ promised Tottie.
‘Andwe’llcover any insurance and vet’s bills,’ said Clara. ‘What a lovely idea!’
Teddy was so delighted by this that after a speechless moment he was moved to kiss both Sybil and Tottie, despite his earlier assertion that such goings-on were soppy.
Then Lex helped him gather up all the discarded wrapping, so that we didn’t feel adrift in a sea of lurid Santas, reindeer, snowflakes and penguins.
Teddy settled down on the floor with a jigsaw puzzle of the Rosetta Stone and a chocolate selection box, while we all finished our own unwrapping in peace.
Clara had a lovely long string of chunky real amber beads from Henry, to whom she gave a cashmere jumper in the samecolour as his eyes. My sketches seemed to be a hit with everyone and River was pleased with the book about ley lines that I’d bought him.
It became increasingly obvious that several shopping sorties had been made to Preciousss over the last few days, as a stream of pretty, useful or just interestingly bizarre items emerged from their wrappings.
River had chosen a theme and stuck to it for his offerings: everyone got a small smooth pebble painted in Gothic script with words like ‘Blessings’, ‘Peace’ and ‘Tranquillity’. Mine said ‘Love’. He’d also brought me a pair of long blue velvet gloves in an Elizabethan gauntlet style, the cuffs quilted and sewn with pearls, which had been made by one of the craftworkers at the Farm.
To Teddy, he gave a set of reed panpipes, and since he’d already demonstrated the paper accordion several times, I could see we were in for a noisy Christmas, though the breathy sound of the pipes was definitely the less irritating of the two.
Tottie had also given everyone the same thing, a knitted rainbow scarf, though she pointed out that she’d helpfully sewn on name labels so we didn’t mix them up.
Den offered to swap his new leather driving gloves for the velvet gauntlets, but he was only joking. He had the hands-free torch that Lex had given him strapped around his head, the light like a kind of bright Cyclops eye in the middle of his forehead.
I’d kept the bag from the Farm till the last. It held a terracotta ocarina, a small, hand-turned bowl made of sycamore wood, a pair of moonstone and pearl earrings, and various hand-made face creams, bath lotions and hand balm. The craftworkers at the Farm were very diverse in the things they made.
But finally, the unwrapping was done, the paper collected and tidied away, the dogs calmed down – they’d had specialChristmas chews – and we could have more coffee and relax for a while.
When Den and River went off later to make a start on dinner, I helped Tottie to lay the dining table, now extended as far as it would go, to accommodate the extra guests.
There was a special crimson damask tablecloth and a long runner embroidered with snowflakes and gold tassels hanging down at each end.
When the shining cutlery, festive paper napkins and crackers were all laid out, I thought it looked quite perfect. Tottie added the centrepiece, a real log decorated with holly, snowy cotton wool and glitter, which Teddy had made at school.
Lex suggested he and I take the dogs out after that, before our guests arrived, and we took them down the fields at the back of the house, where the snow still lay in drifts. We didn’t talk and I wished I knew what he was thinking about our earlier kiss … if he was thinking about it at all. But our silence was companionable and at one point, when I slipped and nearly fell, he took my hand and didn’t release it till he had to open the gate on the way back.
We dried off the dogs in the garden hall before we let them into the rest of the house: legs and tummies, in Wisty and Pansy’s case, butallof Lass, since she’d been rolling in the snow.
Mark must have arrived early, because he, Zelda and Henry emerged from his study just as we had shut the still slightly damp dogs into the kitchen. I thought perhaps he’d been showing them the latest additions to his bauble collection. One of them, shaped like a hot-air balloon with a basket beneath, had especially taken my fancy.
Just before half past one, Flora drove up in her aunt’s car with Rollo and Piers.
Rollo looked pale and interesting after his illness – a look he’d spent his entire life striving to achieve – and had a tendency to gaze adoringly at Flora.
I was relieved to see he seemed subdued, and when introduced to Henry, shook hands in a quiet and respectful manner before seating himself next to Flora. I suspected she’d given him instructions.
Piers, who was a little glassy-eyed, glanced uneasily at Flora and then drifted hopefully towards the drinks cabinet at the other end of the room.
‘Pierswouldinsist on a drink before we came,’ Flora told us in a low voice. ‘And his hands shake a lot, so I think he’s a near-alcoholic! He’s finished the last of the Bombay gin now and at this rate his bar bill alone is going to be into three figures before he leaves.’
‘He’s an awful old man, but you manage him wonderfully well, darling,’ Rollo said adoringly.
Darling?That was quick work!
Flora gave me a complacent – even smug – sideways smile, a marmoset Mona Lisa.
‘You’re so sweet, Rollo,’ she cooed.
