Page 38 of The Christmas Invitation
‘Unlikely,’ declared Clara. ‘But if it happens, you can get back in the car and keep the windows closed.’
‘She’d ’ave to eat ’er bleeding food in there too, seeing the picnic site’s slap bang in the middle of the trees by the reservoir,’ Den pointed out, waving the tongs he’d been using to transfer sausage rolls on to a cooling rack, to emphasize the point.
‘I don’t expect it’ll come to that,’ said Clara. ‘Didn’t you tell me you decorate the Yule tree with corn dollies, Meg? They’d probably be dusty by December; that’ll be it.’
Since there seemed no getting out of the expedition, I said reluctantly, ‘Perhaps you’re right.’
Teddy, who’d been listening anxiously to this discussion, the spoon suspended above his half-eaten cereal, now said with flattering intensity, ‘Ineedyou to come, Meg. Do you want to drive there in the pick-up with me and Uncle Lex and Uncle Henry?’
‘Bit of a squeeze,’ suggested Den. ‘Better in the car.’
I breathed a sigh of relief and Teddy seemed to accept this, for he said, swirling the contents of his bowl around, ‘I like it when the chocolate comes off the cereal and goes into the milk,’ then resumed eating.
‘You make the most of it, because it’s back to the wholegrain stuff after the weekend,’ said Clara.
We left Den and Tottie assembling the picnic. Henry and Teddy got ready for a walk with Lass, since she’d be staying at home while we were out.
Clara said we had an hour to spare, so we retired to her study, where she briskly dictated another chapter of the crime novel, while I laid on paint with my little trowel of a palette knife. When I’m working, a sort of energy flows from my brain to my fingers; I can feel it, like an electric current. I’d missed that while I was ill, and I’d worried that it might never come back.
I immediately forgot about the expedition or anything else, so it was a shock when Henry put his head round the door and told us Lex had just pulled up and we’d better get ready to go, while they loaded the picnic hampers.
By the time I’d cleaned my palette knives and hands, and rushed upstairs to change my painty sweater for a warm tunic and my Converse pumps for short boots, everyone else was outside except Henry, who was heading for the door with a couple of tartan travelling rugs.
‘There you are, my dear, and I’ve settled down Lass, so we’re ready to go!’ He handed me one of the rugs. ‘You can wrap this around yourself in the car. You mustn’t get chilled while you’re still convalescent.’
‘Come on, Meg, we’re all waiting for you,’ called Clara as I went down the steps, to the sound of Henry turning the big key in the lock behind me.
Lex, six-four of darkly brooding hawkish handsomeness, was leaning against the open driver’s door of the pick-up and he gave me a sombre look.
‘How lovely that you and Meg are old friends, Lex. But you can catch up later. We’d better get off now,’ Clara said, and the expression in those dark green eyes turned sardonic.
Did he really think I’d told Clara that we’d been friends?
He said nothing, though, just swung an excited Teddy up into the cabin and got in the driver’s seat. Henry nimbly climbed into the passenger side, next to Teddy.
Clara and Den were now arguing about who should drive the Range Rover, but Den won. (I didn’t know how anyone ever got their own way with Clara; there must be a knack to it that I hadn’t discovered yet.) She sat in the front next to him, still grumbling, while Tottie and I got in the back, an open wicker basket of Thermos flasks wedged between us.
The drive to Rivington was mostly along quiet country roads through farmland and I’d have enjoyed it if I hadn’t known I’d have to get out at the other end and face Lex again. Or not. Perhaps he’d just stride off on those long legs of his and ignore me completely.
The Christmas tree plantation was up a rough track. Rows of trees in various sizes stretched away on either side.
‘They cut the trees and net them up, ready for sale, nearer Christmas – another week or so – but early birds like us can choose one and they’ll chop it down so we can take it back with us,’ Tottie informed me as we all climbed out and stood in a chilly huddle by a barn.
We were now entirely surrounded by rows and rows of standing pine trees and the air was redolent with their heady, resinous scent. It reminded me of the Farm, with its dark forest edging up beside it.
‘Here we are, completely submerged in a sea of pine trees,’ said Henry, poetically, ‘and you’re not sneezing or anything, Meg.’
‘My eyes are watering, though,’ I said quickly.
‘That’s just this cold wind – we all have watering eyes,’ Clara pointed out.
She examined me with her bright, dark gaze for other signs of imminent allergic attack and found none. ‘It appears the reaction must have been to dust after all, which is lucky because you couldn’t have avoided the tree once it was in the hall, could you?’
Only by leaving the Red House the moment the tree, along with Lex Mariner, entered it, I thought regretfully.
But you can’t manufacture a full-blown allergic reaction without being a better actor than I am, so I abandoned that one.
Den was sensibly staying in the warm fug of the car, listening to the radio, until needed to help load the tree into the back of the pick-up.
