Page 11 of One More Christmas at the Castle
‘Artefacts? Are those the treasures you found when you were diving?’ Lucy asked eagerly, looking up. ‘I’d love to see them!’
I couldn’t imagine what Lucy thought was in the lockedroom – some kind of Tutankhamen’s treasure trove, perhaps, with added barnacles?
‘We weren’t plundering gold bullion from old shipwrecks, like the early so-called marine archaeologists,’ I said patiently. ‘Asa was passionate about discovering lost towns and sea defences: signs of civilizations that had been drowned centuries before. It was the people who lived at that time he was interested in.’
‘Oh,’ said Lucy, sounding disappointed.
‘You’ve already seen some of the larger artefacts, Lucy, because they’re on the pedestals around the Great Hall – the amphora in a niche and some of Asa’s collection of early diving helmets.’
There were other, smaller things in the locked study, many of them dating from our later, land-based years on Corfu, when we devoted ourselves to exploring and charting what turned out to be a surprisingly extensive temple complex.
Asa had always found the everyday domestic objects of the past more interesting than any gold or jewels. The spindles for spinning yarn, the millstones, worn with use, a broken toy or musical instrument – these were the finds that made the past come alive for him.Andfor me, for I had always caught fire at his enthusiasms and shared them, from the moment our eyes had met across a crowded room in Oxford, just after I had taken my final exams …
I blinked and came back to the present. At first after his death, it had hurt to even think of Asa, though now I found myself increasingly retreating into those heady, wonderful days. Once Xan arrived, I would positively revel in reminiscing to a sympathetic listener, though I must always be careful what I disclosed. Nothing must be allowed to tarnish the image of the glowing, golden couple we had been.
I must have been silent for some minutes, for Lucy nowgave a small, affected cough, and asked timidly: ‘Would you like me to add anything more, Cousin Sabine?’
‘New paragraph,’ I snapped, and she resumed her position, poised like a pianist over the keyboard.
Your arrival on 3 December will happily coincide with that of the couple from an agency, whom I am employing for a month to cook and housekeep, since Maria’s husband, though ready to come home from the hospital after his stroke, seems set to occupy most of her time. Her cooking was never up to much and Lucy can’t even boil an egg without burning the pan dry …
Lucy made a small protesting noise, but continued to hammer doggedly on.
So, since I have invited a small party of guests for Christmas, mostly family connections, I thought it would be a good idea to employ some extra help. You will at least be assured of decent food during your stay with us, which I hope you will also consider as a holiday.
I silently pondered for a moment, then decided that I’d said everything I needed to.
‘Final paragraph,’ I announced.
Do pass on my regards to your parents. I miss the warmth of Corfu, but always felt that Christmas should be cold and, preferably, snowy. I look forward to seeing you very soon.
Your affectionate godmother,
Sabine
‘I hadn’t realized before how fond you were of him,’ Lucy said, straightening and flexing her thin, twig-like fingers.
‘Why should you?’ I said. ‘I may have shut myself off from most visitors for the last few years, but not from Xan. Besides, he has remained a frequent and interesting correspondent. Goodness knows, the one thing lacking round here is intellectual conversation.’
Lucy blinked; this dart seemed to have passed right over her head. It’s a pity she so often brings out the worst in me. I’m sure when my friend Nancy arrives she will take me to task for it.
‘Shall I send the email off now, Cousin Sabine?’
‘I don’t know what else you imagine I want you to do with it,’ I said with a sigh, and when it had vanished, to be resurrected miles away by some magical process I couldn’t fathom, added: ‘I’m going for a walk in the garden and then I’ll lie down for a little while. Unless Maria puts in an appearance, I’ll expect you with tea in the sitting room later.’
‘Of course, Cousin Sabine,’ she murmured, but even before I closed the library door behind me, I could hear the click of her fingers tapping the keys again and was sure she was letting her brother, Nigel, know about both my illness and my plans – and that their anticipated inheritance was not quite the sure thing they had thought it.
As I put on my fur coat and tied a silk scarf around my head, I reflected that if this really was a vintage Christmas murder mystery, then I would be the prime candidate for the victim!
3
Due North
Only a few days later, following a flurry of emails between Henry and Lucy Ripley, who on no evidence whatsoever, he insisted on calling the Poor Relation, we climbed into our dark green Heavenly Houseparties van and pointed the bonnet due north.
It was crammed to the gunnels with everything we might possibly need, including some items you might not have thought of, had you not had our past experiences to make you think a very long way outside the box.
As always, I’d packed my favourite kitchen utensils and equipment, because you just never knew what you were going to find – or not find – in someone else’s kitchen.
