Page 142 of One More Christmas at the Castle
A Christmas Carol
We carried the mulled wine and warm mince pies through to the sitting room just before three, so we could serve them before the carol service started on the radio.
Then we took seats by the window, outside the group of guests gathered around the fire, and I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair to enjoy the singing.
It was, as always, both beautiful and uplifting. For me, this service always heralded the true start of Christmas.
I think almost everyone present seemed to feel the same way … except Sophie, who continued to play with her phone. Mrs Powys, who was sitting on the sofa next to Nancy, continued to lean back with her eyes closed and I noticed, for the first time, that her face, under the mask of make-up, had gone from thin to haggard.
She had such a vibrant nature, I tended to forget that she was very ill, and also very old, although like Nancy, who was now talking quietly to Lucy and Nigel, you tended to forget that because their spirits were perpetually youthful.
Henry and I slipped quietly away, bearing the empty glasses and plates and the bowl that had held the mulled wine.
‘Nearly time for tea. It’s just one long round of food and drink till after Boxing Day now,’ said Henry, pausing to switch on the fairy lights on the big tree in the Great Hall as we passed.
The pile of presents on the low table and around it seemed to have multiplied … and I’d noticed a couple more under our tree, too, that morning.
‘You wouldn’t think anyone would be interested in tea after the mulled wine and mince pies,’ I observed, ‘but I’m sure Mrs Powys would have something to say if it didn’t appear at the usual time, Christmas Eve or not!’
I expected they’d make short work of my delicious-looking chocolate log, in any case!
Xan was quite right about Nancy insisting that the whole household should gather together in the billiard room after tea, to sing carols and other Christmas songs, while she played a vigorous accompaniment on the upright piano.
‘Olive, you can turn the music for me and, Sabine, you sit here, in this comfortable chair,’ she directed. ‘The rest of you should stand, so you can fill your lungs properly and really sing out with a joyful heart!’
‘Such a bossy boots!’ murmured Sabine affectionately, but she did as she was told and Plum immediately lay across her feet in his best heraldic beast pose.
‘Can we start with “O Little Town of Bethlehem”?’ asked Lucy. ‘That’s my favourite!’
‘Of course – it’s mine, too,’ agreed Nancy.
‘Andmine,’ said Nigel cheerfully. ‘This is fun, isn’t it?’ He seemed to have put aside any huffiness and was full of bonhomie and the desire to ensure that everyone enjoyed themselves … whether they liked it, or not.
Glancing round at the others, I wasn’t sure the general levelof appreciation matched his own, except for Lucy, who looked flushed and eager, and Olive, seated next to Nancy and ready to turn the music.
Mr Makepeace stood politely ready, but Frank had his hands in his pockets and wore a bored, but resigned, expression.
Dom and Xan came in last and joined us at the back of the group. I think Simon would have, too, except Sophie put a detaining hand on his arm and began whispering something in his ear.
Nancy struck up the first tune on the piano, and we were off. Olive sang in a surprisingly deep contralto, while Mr Makepeace produced a light tenor from somewhere in that wizened frame.
Xan had slipped an arm around my waist, which was distracting, as was his habit of humming along when he forgot the words.
It was all great fun, though. Carols and popular Christmas songs succeeded each other, and Dom and Henry tried to harmonize over ‘Away in a Manger’.
In one of the pauses, Nigel, who had been singing along lustily, if untunefully, said it reminded him of when he and Lucy were little and their grandmother would play carols and hymns on the piano.
I thought Nigel was probably softer-centred and nicer than I had at first thought, even if he did have an inflated sense of his own importance in the family, which was doomed, I feared, to disappointment as regards Mitras Castle.
Eventually I had to creep out in order to make a start on preparations for dinner – and it was only then that I noticed Sophie and Simon were no longer there. They must have sneaked away at some point. If Mrs Powys had noticed, she wouldn’t be pleased about it!
It was rather rude of them and I wouldn’t have expected itfrom Simon, who was not only a guest but also, to some extent, her employee, since she was the director of the trust that employed him and owned both the site and his cottage. But then, the poor man was, it seemed, entirely in thrall to Sophie, who I was sure was only amusing herself by flirting with him and not at all serious. I hoped he wouldn’t get hurt – he struck me as very vulnerable.
Still, there was nothing I could do about it and I put it out of my head as I made my way back to the kitchen, still filled with the feeling of peace and goodwill to all men – andalmostall women – engendered by the singing.
The members of the house party were finally beginning to come together and enjoy themselves, so now, if only Mrs Powys refrained from amusing herself by winding Nigel and the Mellings up, all would be well …
‘You should see what Sophie’s wearing tonight,’ Henry said, having taken through to the sitting room tonight’s starter, along with a shaker full of his renowned Christmas Cocktail. ‘She’s literally the Scarlet Woman – or rather, vermilion, with lipstick, talons and a whopping great ring to match.’
