Page 41 of The Christmas Invitation
I thought Clara gave us both a keen look when we joined the rest of the party, but no one else appeared to notice anything amiss and I kept as far away as possible from Lex as we retraced our steps through rows of increasingly Lilliputian fir trees to the large barn.
The chosen tree, which looked to me about the height of a house, had already been cut and wrapped in netting. It was soon loaded into the back of the pick-up, where it was secured with rope.
Then we drove down to the picnic area by the reservoir, where the contents of the hamper were set out on a large picnic table near the water’s edge.
I found myself unable to eat much, however delicious it all was, though I was grateful for cup after cup of hot coffee or cocoa, from the giant Thermos flasks, because I was chilled not only to the bone, but to the heart.
Back at the Red House I could have made a quick escape into the studio, but I was so convinced that there was no way they’d get that huge tree into the hall, let alone standing upright, that I lingered to watch.
Den fetched a monumental green-painted metal stand and then the tree was somehow eased through the front door and vestibule into the hall, without taking out any of the stained glass. Then it was tilted up into the stairwell until vertical.
Finally it was clamped firmly into the metal base and manoeuvred into the perfect position in the curve of the staircase, the top several feet above my head.
There was some argument about which was its best side and it was turned a little to and fro until everyone was satisfied.
By then, quite some time had elapsed, and Tottie and Den, who had at some point vanished towards the kitchen regions, reappeared with the tea trolley.
‘Picnic leftovers to finish off!’ cried Tottie gaily, and, not having had any lunch, my stomach gave a sudden lurch and grumble of hunger. I can’t say the thought of settling down in the drawing roomen famillewith Lex there was that appealing, though.
‘I’ll just take my tea through into the studio with me, if you don’t mind,’ I said, as Clara set out the cups and saucers, which today seemed to have been randomly selected from three different services.
She looked up. ‘Oh, don’t go, Meg. Why don’t you just relax for a bit? You’ve already done some work today, and after tea I was hoping you’d give Lex a hand getting down the boxes of decorations and the other tree from the attic.’
‘She doesn’t need to. I can manage perfectly well on my own,’ Lex said.
‘I expect you could, but it’s easier if there are two of you, because then you can pass down the boxes from the upper attic without climbing up and down that ladder,’ said Henry.
‘I can help too,’ offered Teddy eagerly.
‘Den would have lent a hand, but he’s gone back to his flat for a bit,’ Henry said.
‘And I promised Sybil I’d pop down and help do the horses today, because Len’s off,’ said Tottie.
‘Well, I want to do a little more work … and I expect Henry also means to vanish into his burrow for an hour or two,’ said Clara. ‘So if youreallydidn’t mind, Meg … ?’
There was nothing for it but to agree. ‘No, of course I don’t mind. I’m glad to be of use. If there are two of us – and Teddy, of course,’ I added hastily, seeing his mouth open indignantly – ‘I don’t expect it’ll take long. I can stand at the bottom of the ladder while Lex passes everything down.’
Or perhaps dropped them on my head if the fancy took him, though boxes of baubles probably didn’t weigh much so they’d only mildly concuss me.Death by Baublesounded like a good crime novel title, though not the kind Clara wrote.
‘Then I can carry them to the top of the attic stairs,’ Teddy said.
‘If you’ve finished eating, we might as well get on with it,’ Lex said, abruptly getting up.
I hadn’t – in fact, I’d only just finished a sausage roll and decided I could manage an egg and cress sandwich, too – but I drank my tea quickly and Teddy and I followed him, though I took the sandwich with me and ate it on the way upstairs.
I hadn’t been up to the attic floor before, though I remembered Clara telling me they hadn’t renovated it and it was mostly used for storage. The stairs were narrow and uncarpeted, and a door at the top opened on to a passage with small rooms opening off it that I guessed were once servants’ bedrooms. There was another door at the furthest end of the corridor. Lex opened this and switched on the lights, illuminating a large, gloomy space filled with the shrouded shapes oflarge pieces of furniture, old trunks, boxes, broken chairs … the usual strangely assorted collection of items that seem naturally to accumulate in attics and lumber rooms.
Right at the back was the almost perpendicular ladder leading up to another level. It wasn’t very high, but I wondered why on earth they’d decided to store the Christmas decorations up there, rather than more handily near the main door.
I didn’t bother asking Lex, who had been silent all this time and now vanished upwards without a word. There was the sound of objects sliding across a wooden floor and then a long and ominous-looking canvas bag with handles was lowered down to me. I reached up to grasp it and found it surprisingly heavy.
‘That’s the tree for the drawing room,’ said Teddy, and as soon as I’d set it down, he seized the handles and dragged it to the door, then along the passage to the top of the stairs.
‘Plastic storage boxes next,’ said Lex, and the first of them slid down the ladder into my waiting hands. They were quite light and had handles, which made it easier, and they bore handwritten labels saying things like ‘Large baubles’ or ‘Lights’.
Teddy greeted each one like an old friend. ‘This is the box with new glass ornaments. We get them from the Christmas shop in the old mill near Little Mumming and Henry says they’re the collectibles of the future.’
‘I expect they are,’ I agreed, passing him a light box that was apparently full of tinsel and folding paper garlands.
