Page 26 of One More Christmas at the Castle
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ I said, putting the sprouts in a pan and setting it on the stove.
‘Don’t you want to microwave those into green gloop?’ he suggested with a grin.
‘Not inmykitchen. They go outal denteor not at all. See if you can find any cooking sherry, oranydry sherry; I suspect the casserole will need a little last-minute jazzing up.’
‘OK, and I’ll open that bottle of red and take it into the dining room with the water carafe.’
While I finished off the main course, Henry went in and out with the warm bread rolls and butter, then the casserole dish and the vegetables.
Then, when all was ready, he beat the big brass gong on the table in the passage outside the dining room.
I divided the big jar of pears in Calvados between three littleglass dishes and put them in the fridge, with a jug of cream, ready to go.
Henry reported that everyone was tucking in and he’d taken the opportunity to fetch the used glasses and hors d’oeuvre dishes from the sitting room.
‘All tidy and the cushions plumped up, ready for when they take their coffee there,’ he said. ‘All according to those exhaustive instructions!’
‘Handy, though,’ I said. ‘Because of them, we know all the little details, such as Mrs Powys liking the cheeseboard on the table with the dessert, and the coffee served in the sitting room.’
‘Yes, and she’ll ring when they leave the dining room, so we can clear.’
I laid out the coffee tray and when the bell finally jangled, Henry took it through, while I went to lay the table in the morning room for two, ready for breakfast.
The dishwasher was soon glugging away in the kitchen and Henry began hand-washing the delicate things. I foraged for bacon in the freezer; Henry is partial to a cooked breakfast, even if no one else fancied it.
‘I’ll make somepetits foursto go with their after-dinner coffee tomorrow,’ Henry said, putting the last wine glass in the rack and then drying his hands.
‘I don’t think they’ll starve without them,’ I told him.
‘I know, but the coffee tray looked sort of naked without any little nibbles.’
‘I could do with a bit of a nibble now,’ I said. ‘Let’s finish off the leftovers.’
‘There we are – duty done,’ said Henry, a little while later, when he’d come back from putting the guard over the fire in the dining room. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m shattered.’
‘It’s been one hell of a long day,’ I agreed, ‘and we didn’t expect to start work tonight.’
We’d eaten up the remains of the casserole and finished off the pears in the jar – there were two, so they obviously had our names on them – but now we divested ourselves of our tunics and retired to the staff sitting room with hot cocoa and the huge tin of chocolate biscuits we’d brought with us. Henry put on the DVD ofWhite Christmas, but just for background noise, really. I’d brought the fat household ring binder with me for bedtime reading. I wanted to compare Mrs Hill’s Christmas shopping list with mine and also look at the old Christmas menus, which were helpfully still filed there.
‘So, it starts,’ Henry said. ‘And Mrs Powys will give us the once-over in the library at half past nine tomorrow – a bit like seeing the headmistress when you’ve been naughty.’
‘I think we’d betternotbe naughty, but I expect she only wants to discuss the house party and the Christmas menus, that kind of thing.’
‘I’m guessing traditional turkey and all the trimmings,’ he said. ‘Oh, and while I remember, Xan says he’ll come down to the kitchen for his breakfast, when he’s taken Plum out.’
I sat up straight again and stared at him. ‘I’ve laid two places in the morning room for him and Lucy. I don’t want him in my kitchen, under my feet! In fact, in the circumstances, I’d prefer to see him as little as possible, just in case something stirs his memory and he recognizes me.’
‘Well, you tell him to get out of your kitchen tomorrow, then,’ he said comfortably, and I threw a fat cushion at him.
When Henry switched to watching an old horror film,Night of the Lepus– and personally, I can’t find rabbits scary, even ifthey have been made to look huge and have fake blood smeared all over their faces – I left him to it and went up to bed.
I finished the last of the unpacking and got into my warm, comfortable bed, but tired though I was, I found it very hard to go to sleep.
Xan’s face seemed to be imprinted on the inside of my eyelids – the younger version I’d had such an insane crush on.
It would be hideously embarrassing if he suddenly realized who I was! If it had only been the crush, it wouldn’t be so bad … but no, my conscience still squirmed whenever I thought back to that time and what I had done …
Sabine
