Page 58 of The Christmas Invitation
And then, since it seemed to be render-yourself-penniless day, I wandered into the shop next door and tried on a long dress in squares of fine corduroy in muted jewel colours. It had a low-ish scoop neck that made the most of my fast-returning curves and it was cut like an old-fashioned riding dress: it fitted to below the waist, where there was a peplum frill, then fell, long and drapey, to my ankles. It was like a new take on the kind of old-hippy garments that Maj and some of the other Farm residents favoured. They’d probably mug me for it when they saw it.
The clothes on that rack were made locally in a nearby village, the shop assistant told me while folding the dress into tissue paper before inserting it into a bag with the name of the shop on it: East Island.
I was still pondering that one, when she added that the village was called Halfhidden and was the most haunted in Lancashire.
That sounded fun and I’d have been tempted to visit it, except that this was hardly the time of the year for sightseeing.
Heavily laden, happy but broke, I staggered out with my purchases and headed for the car before I found anything else to buy.
Den and Henry were loading shopping into the boot of the Jaguar.
‘There you are, my dear – perfect timing,’ Henry said. ‘And I see you’ve had a successful shopping expedition!’
He and Den managed to wedge everything in, though a couple of bags had to go behind one of the seats. Not the one with the art box in, though, because I told them what that was and they hid it in the boot in case Teddy got curious on the way home and poked about among the bags.
‘How kind of you!’ Henry said. ‘I think paints are on his Christmas list, too. He’ll be so delighted.’
‘We’ve just fetched the castle ’e wanted from the toyshop, ’aven’t we?’ Den said.
‘I ordered it and Den’s bought a family of plastic dragons to go with it.’
‘Going to paint them up first,’ Den said. ‘Bit of silver on the scales.’
Henry pushed up his sleeve and consulted a battered old wristwatch. ‘Oh good, we have time to call in at Terrapotter on the way to collect Teddy from school. Lex’s bound to give us coffee and you’ll be interested to see the pottery, I’m sure, Meg.’
I’d forgotten he’d mentioned that idea earlier, and I was so thrown that I almost said I was allergic to clay, but luckily remembered in time that this gambit hadn’t worked with the Christmas trees.
‘Isn’t it getting a bit late?’ I suggested instead. ‘And I’m sure they must be way too busy for visitors right now.’
‘We’ll have about half an hour to spare and the school is only a minute or two away. Lex won’t mind, because that stately home consignment has gone off and they’ve dispatched most of the stock ordered for Christmas ages ago. This is actually a quiet time for them.’
By now I’d squeezed myself into the back of the car between Teddy’s child seat and the overflow packages and we were heading for the Thorstane road. I resigned myself to my fate.
Henry was still talking. ‘Alan’s wife, Tara, makes very interesting jewellery and sells it online, as well as through shops, so she tends to work till the last post goes. I mean the last posting of parcels before Christmas, of course, not the trumpet one.’
However, I was pretty sureIheard the trumpet version sounding as we turned through the archway that pierced the front of the mellow brick building and came to a halt in a stone-paved yard surrounded by a hotchpotch of outbuildings.
‘Interesting old place, isn’t it?’ Henry said. ‘The original smithy was that large building to the left. That’s the pottery now, but there was an old brick kiln at the far end … and then some of the other buildings had people like stonemasons working in them at one time. It’s had a varied life, but it was empty when we helped Lex to buy it.’
‘A right dump, it was, and the cottage at the front falling down,’ Den said.
‘A slight exaggeration,’ Henry said as we got out. He led the way through a small Judas door cut into the large one that filled the front of the old smithy. It was labelled ‘Office’, though when we got in, that seemed to mean an unoccupied cubbyhole to the left, with a desk and computer screen.
We were in a large room with the original cobbled floor and it was filled with the varied shapes of huge terracotta pots, mostly fastened to wooden pallets, ready for delivery. It reminded me of that terracotta army in China … but actually, once my eyes adjusted to the gloom, it was more like a strange version of Ali Baba’s cave, except no one popped out of a pot.
A door to one side opened and Lex appeared, a mug in his hand. ‘I thought I heard a car, Henry. Trust you to turn up when I’ve just made a pot of coffee!’
‘I hope there’s enough for three extra, because I’ve brought Meg to see the pottery, too,’ Henry told him. I’d been hanging back till then, so I don’t think Lex had spotted me.
One dark eyebrow went up. ‘So I see – but you did say you’d bring her down here one day.’ From his tone I inferred that he hadn’t expected me to fall in with the plan, though.
‘Well, there’s plenty of coffee. This one’s for Al – he’s slip-casting in the back – but help yourselves while I take it through.’
We went into a small room with a stove, table, microwave and a big glass coffee pot on a hotplate.
Den said he’d be mother and pour, and then rootled around in an open tin of biscuits for one with chocolate, but I refused them when he offered them round. I thought they’d probably choke me. I wished I was somewhere – anywhere – else.
There was a small electric heater and I was just warming my hands when Lex returned and picked up his own mug. His dark green eyes regarded me over the rim thoughtfully. ‘I suppose now you’re here, I’d better give you the guided tour.’
