Page 30 of One More Christmas at the Castle
I’dkillhim for that remark later.
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Xan said, also grinning, though I couldn’t see what was so amusing. Lots of people have Greek noses … especially Greeks.
I glanced at the clock and got up.
‘I’d better clear up, because Maria’s popping in about ten and I don’t want her to find her kitchen already looking a mess.’
Xan took the hint and got up, too – I’d forgotten how tall he was, though still as willowy as ever.
‘Sabine’s going to ceremonially hand me the key of Asa’s study at nine and then induct me into the mysteries within,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got time to give Plum another quick run first.’
‘Mrs Powys is going to have a busy morning,’ said Henry, ‘since she’s seeing us at half past nine. I keep thinking of Cluedo for some reason – you know: “Mrs Powys, in the library, with an axe”.’
‘Not an axe, unless it’s an antique double-headed bronze one,’ Xan said seriously. ‘And since she wants you to cater for a large Christmas house party, I don’t think she would finish you off till the New Year.’
‘Yes, she mentioned to us when making the booking that she was in failing health and wanted a last party at the Castle,’ Henry said.
Xan frowned. ‘She told me that too, though I can’t really see any sign of it. It’s worrying, because I’m very fond of her.’
‘Well, we’re going to give her exactly the kind of Christmas she wants. It’s our forte, really,’ Henry said modestly. ‘It will all go with a swing!’
‘Since she seems to have invited all her remaining, though not very exciting, relatives, good luck with that one!’ Xan said, and headed out towards the Garden Hall, Plum scampering at his heels.
‘Looks like I might have been wrong about him forgetting you, Dido, and it might all suddenly come back to him,’ Henry said, sounding amused. ‘Perhaps you ought to brace yourself and tell him now, get it over with? You might find it quite cathartic.’
Henry had something there, but it would only release all the embarrassment and guilt if I confessed all, which I wasn’t about to. ‘I don’t think I really need to, because I’m sure he only had the vaguest suspicion he’d seen me before,’ I said optimistically.
‘Well, if he does, you’ll simply have to pretend it was so long ago, you’d entirely forgotten him, improbable as it might seem,’ he suggested.
‘Or if he suddenly remembers me as that pestilential child who made his life a misery for a fortnight, he might pretendhedoesn’t remember me either, while avoiding me like the plague, in case I make a nuisance of myself all over again,’ I said.
‘He’s so handsome, you still might.’
‘I’m much more likely to fall for Plum – he’sgorgeous!’
‘Xan’s not just a handsome face, he’s really nice, too, onceyou get to know him. Everyone liked him at school, even if he was a bit of a swot.’
‘For such a good-looking man, he doesn’t seem at all up himself,’ I admitted grudgingly. ‘But since he isn’t married, perhaps he’s gay?’
Henry shook his head. ‘Definitely not, but he might be glad to hang out with me a bit when I’m off duty, if the other guests all turn out to be elderly.’
‘I expect we’ll find out who’s been invited shortly, when Mrs Powys has given Xan the run of her husband’s old study. While she’s doing that, let’s pop up to make the beds and bring down Mrs Powys’s tray,’ I said. ‘At least there are only three beds to make at the moment.’
We whipped round upstairs in no time.
Normally, we’d have taken an hour or two off after that, before it was time to start lunch, although the first day was usually one spent getting a handle on the normal routine of the house, checking supplies and the ordering system and that kind of thing. Thanks to the uber-organized system with the files, however, that was a doddle.
Henry was finishing the last of a pot of strangely pink tea when he looked up at the clock. ‘Time to go.’
I put a notebook and pen into my tunic pocket and got up.
‘Come on then,’ I said. ‘Mrs Powys, in the library, with a double-headed axe, it is!’
Sabine
When Dido brought my breakfast, it suddenly struck me how like an Archbold she was – so tall and fair. Or she would have been if her eyes were blue, instead of that odd duck-egg shade.
But of course, there wasn’t a drop of Archbold blood in her veins – only much-diluted Mordue, from my father. He had been thin and brown-haired … and now I came to think of it, in the recent photograph, Dido’s father had had a slight resemblance to him.
