Page 63 of The Christmas Invitation
‘That must have been very convenient all round,’ I suggested.
‘It was a bit awkward for Lex when he visited the old folk and she wouldn’t leave him alone, but then, she’s been out with every unattached man within ten miles and she always starts planning the wedding after the second date,’ she said surprisingly cattily.
‘That must put them off,’ I commented, though now feeling slightly sorry for this unknown Flora.
‘Clara found her a good nanny position in London but she’s changed jobs several times since. In between she stays with her auntie, and last time she was home Mark was at Underhill too and she set her sights on him.’
Well, Clara had said he’d had a fling with the nanny. ‘I suppose she already knew him?’
‘Yes, it’s a small place and he’d often visited because his mum moved back to Underhill after she was widowed, to look after old George Doome, her father.’
‘Did Flora get anywhere with Mark?’ I asked. Call me nosy, but this was all very interesting!
She considered this. ‘They went out in his car a lot and Bilbo saw them in the pub a couple of times.’
I didn’t think that constituted a serious relationship, but I filed the information away for future reference, though Isuspected Mark’s flattering interest in me had mostly been because he hoped I’d give him free advice about his paintings.
‘It’ll be great if you’re still here for Christmas, Meg,’ Flower said, changing the subject. ‘Me and Bilbo put a Christmas tree in the snug and we’re going to tell Grace-Galadriel that Father Christmas is a wise elf.’
‘How lovely,’ I said.
‘The Doomes always have a big Boxing Day morning party at the Red House. Everyone’s invited, so we go to that. Nibbles and drinks.’
‘Sounds fun,’ I said, then looked at my watch and got up. ‘It’s late – I’d better get back for lunch.’
‘You could stay and have something to eat with us. It’s lentil soup and I can easily open another tin.’
‘That’s kind of you, but I’d better go. I need to do some more work, anyway. I’m not here on holiday.’
I thought Den’s home-made soup would taste a whole lot better than the canned too, not to mention the fresh, crusty loaf I’d seen Henry removing from the breadmaker earlier.
Grace-Galadriel had all this time been sitting stolidly and silently on a rag rug among a sea of cats, chewing at a rusk, but now slowly toppled over backwards. I feared for her head if it struck the stone floor beyond the rug’s edge, but instead it landed heavily on a ginger cat. It squirmed out as Flower was scooping the baby up and walked away in an offended manner, only spoiled by its having the remains of the rusk sticking out of its mouth like a chewed cigar of Churchillian proportions.
I collected the brown paper carrier bags full of my purchases on the way out. The bags were the sort that go soggy and disintegrate in the rain, and outside it still looked distinctly and damply sleety. I’d have to walk fast or I’d be leaving a strange trail of random objects behind me.
‘Drop in any time,’ Flower urged me hospitably, waving the baby’s arm goodbye. ‘I’ll probably be here. There’s nowhere else much to go at this time of year.’
I didn’t think there would be many places to goanytime of year, but then, it must be beautiful in summer, so why would you want to?
I pulled up my anorak hood and stepped out briskly into the sleet, but had barely got going when a large black and glossy Ford Cherokee pulled up next to me and Mark was lowering the window and offering me a lift.
It didn’t look like he’d counted the pennies when it came to buying himself a car!
I scrambled gratefully up into the passenger seat. ‘Thanks so much, Mark! I know it’s only a few minutes’ walk, but these paper carriers are likely to fall apart long before I get there.’
‘You’ve been buying up Flower’s shop?’
‘I suppose I have bought rather a lot,’ I admitted. ‘It’s very New Age and not that different from the one in the craft centre at home, though they make a lot of the things themselves there. I was brought up in a commune on a farm,’ I added in explanation.
‘Yes, I’ve heard about that from Mum. And isn’t your grandfather coming to stay soon, or did she get the wrong end of the stick from Tottie?’
‘No, she’s right, though River isn’t my real grandfather, I just think of him like that. Clara was kind enough to invite him to stay for the Solstice ceremony, so he’ll be arriving on the twentieth for a couple of nights.’
We were almost back at the Red House by then and I asked Mark to drop me at the end of the drive. ‘I don’t want to hold you up.’
‘Actually, I’m only on my way to Great Mumming to get some more paint and sandpaper – and if you haven’t had lunch yet, why don’t you come with me? There’s a pub that does great food.’
‘That’s a kind thought, but they’re expecting me and I’m already running late. And actually, I went into Great Mumming yesterday, because I needed some art materials.’
