Page 48 of One More Christmas at the Castle
As we rounded the corner of the visitor centre, which seemed to be a stubby star shape, he added, ‘It’s totally different here in the summer – a constant stream of cars arriving and people all over the place. The visitor centre has a museum displaying some of the less valuable finds and there’s a small café, too. These places have to make their money as best they can in a short season.’
‘I wish the café was open right now. I could do with a hot coffee to thaw me out!’
‘Well, come into my cottage and I’ll make you one,’ he offered, and I looked up and for the first time clocked the strange little house standing right by a huge pair of wrought-iron gates.
‘But it looks just like a gingerbread cottage from Grimms’ fairy tales!’ I exclaimed, for it was small and made of mellow brick, with strange, barley-sugar twisted chimneys and a gabled roof that seemed to be pulled down over its upper windows, like a strange hat.
‘I know, it is a bit twee, isn’t it?’ Simon agreed. ‘I’ve got used to it, though it’s rather dark and poky inside and the mod cons were the latest thing in about 1930. But it came with the job and it’s handy for work,’ he ended. ‘Now, what about that coffee?’
‘It’s tempting, but perhaps another time? I really ought to get back to the Castle. The weekly cleaning service is going through the place like a dose of salts and when I left Xan – Xan Fellowes – in charge, I promised I’d be back in an hour. He might need to take his dog out soon.’
‘I’ve met Xan a couple of times, though it’s a while since I’ve seen him,’ Simon said. ‘I was summoned to dinner the last time he was up here. I think I was the entertainment.’
‘With Xan being a historian, I expect you have a lot in common.’
‘True, and we did have an interesting discussion on an aspect of my book,’ he said.
‘He’s staying at the Castle till New Year too, to gather material for a biography of Asa Powys. And there are several more guests coming for Christmas.’
‘I don’t remember anyone other than Xan staying at theCastle since I’ve been here, but then, Asa Powys had only just died and there was only Mrs Powys here.’
‘You must have been very young when you got this job?’
‘Twenty-eight … but I didn’tfeelvery young,’ he said, a sad look crossing his face. ‘Still, I was glad of the cottage and the small salary and I eke it out with my bit of lecturing and the occasional magazine or journal article.’
Then he smiled. ‘I’d better let you go before you get frostbite,’ he joked. ‘But do call in any time for a coffee. I have the keys to the visitor centre too, so I could always show you the museum.’
‘Thank you, I’d love to. And you might see my partner, Henry, wandering about, sussing out the sloping field below the fort for snowboarding!’ I warned.
‘Really? Well, it’s pretty steep, but I suppose it would be doable, if we get some snow. And we usually do …’
‘It seems cold enough now,’ I said, and after saying goodbye, retraced my steps.
The wind blew me back across the field, but as soon as I was through the wicket gate and in the shelter of the trees, I immediately felt much warmer. It still took a big mug of hot chocolate to thaw me out all the way through.
Apart from the faint sound of pop music from the direction of the laundry room, there was no sign of the cleaners, other than the shiny surfaces all round me.
I changed into my working tunic and trousers and then made three kinds of finger sandwiches – smoked salmon, cheese with finely grated onion, and egg mayonnaise. I put some on a plate for Xan’s lunch and then covered the rest with damp kitchen towel under clingfilm and put them in the fridge ready for tea.
I made some coffee and then carried Xan’s tray to the study.
As I turned the handle of the door I could see, through the pointed Gothic arch at the end of the passage, a thin young man dusting one of the diving helmets in the Great Hall.
‘Hi, Rapunzel,’ Xan said, looking up as I came in and it was only then I realized I’d forgotten to put my hair up again and it was still in two long, schoolgirl braids down my back.
‘It was windy out,’ I explained. ‘I went to look at the Roman fort and it’s a wonder I didn’t blow away, too.’
‘It is exposed up there,’ he agreed.
‘I met the archaeologist in charge of the site, Simon Cardew,’ I told him.
‘Did you? I’d forgotten about Simon. I must suggest to Sabine she invites him for dinner.’
‘He seemed very nice and he was interesting about the ruins, though it wasn’t a day for hanging about listening.’
I looked around at the study curiously. ‘How are you doing?’ I asked, though the answer was evident from the chaos of papers spilling from one open cupboard and a few miscellaneous stacks on the floor. ‘I found a text on my phone from Henry when I got back and he’s got you a pasting table. He should be home soon.’
‘Thank goodness for that!’ Xan ruffled up his black hair so that it stood on end, and sighed. ‘Apart from the filing cabinets, which Sabine organized, every single cupboard and drawer is crammed to bursting point.’
