Page 24 of One More Christmas at the Castle
Back in my bedroom, I plugged in my own good reading lamp on the bedside table and then unpacked. My clothes, hung in one corner of the vast mahogany wardrobe, looked as if they were trying to hide and I only used the top two drawers of the matching dressing table.
Tidying my hair in front of an old, clouded mirror, I saw that it softened my coldly classical features in a very flattering way and wished I looked like that all the time.
‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest Dido of themall?’ I asked, as I rammed a couple of hairclips into the ends of my plaits to hold them more firmly. Then I went down to find Henry arranging his DVD collection on one of the empty bookcase shelves.
We’d both changed into our working clothes – we’d long ago decided on black cotton trousers, or jeans, teamed with a white or black T-shirt. Over these we wore loose buttoned tunic jackets, black for Henry and white for me. It was all very practical, as was our footwear. I’d fallen into the habit of always wearing moccasin shoes, being on my feet all the time – suede in the house and leather out. I even had fringed moccasin boots.
Henry favoured dark trainers, unless he was in his butler role. It was all a bit of a contrast to when he was in Mutant Teenage Snowboarder mode.
‘Come on,’ I said, ‘let’s go and help Maria. We can make this room look like home later.’
But Maria seemed to have everything under control in the kitchen without us. Indeed, with that fat file of instruction and information, it would be hard not to be organized.
She told us we’d just missed Xan, who had come in to feed his little dog, which was a shame … not.
We both accompanied her to the dining room when she went to lay the table, so we could see where everything was kept. We had a better look at the morning room on the way and she point out the hotplates, the toaster, Tupperware containers of cereals and the breakfast china.
‘And the table extends, when there are more guests,’ she added. ‘The dining table also, as I will show you.’
The dining room was large and dark, but in a sumptuous kind of way, with damson velvet curtains and candlestick-style wall lights above polished wooden panelling.
Maria put a match to the fire laid in the grate, before opening the various cupboards around the room to show us the everyday table linen, and the special occasion stuff, including Christmas tablecloths, runners and napkins.
There was a splendid Minton dinner service gleaming softly behind glazed doors and an array of silver cutlery, alongside the good stainless steel. I suspected all the good stuff would only come out for Christmas dinner and it would take Henry and me till Boxing Day to hand-wash and polish everything.
There was more china and porcelain in the cupboards, which I longed to explore, but that would have to wait.
Maria and Henry covered the polished wood of the table in white damask and laid it for dinner. Or rather, Henry laid it and Maria watched him critically. She wasn’t going to catch him out, though; he was brought up to know these things.
I wandered round the room, looking at the hotplates on a side table and one of those heated hostess trolleys that were in vogue years ago. There was an array of flat-bottomed decanters and a soda syphon standing on top of a huge sideboard, and when I peeped inside the doors underneath I found an extensive collection of liqueurs and mixers. The tall cupboard next to it was full of glasses, the expensive cut-glass kind.
‘There’s a drinks cupboard in the sitting room, too,’ Maria told me, seeing what I was doing. ‘With the sherry for Lucy, and whisky – the Lady likes whisky in the evening. The cocktail shakers are there, too, but no one drinks the cocktails now.’
‘I expect the guests will, though, if some of them are young?’ I suggested. ‘Henry, you’d better check we have all the ingredients for the popular ones.’
‘Yeah, and on the gin and vodka situation too,’ he agreed.
I went over to the window and drew back the heavy, plushydrapes, but outside it was too dark to see anything, though you could hear the icy wind whistling round the house.
‘There must be a lovely view from here during the day, right down the valley,’ I said.
‘Across the valley,’ corrected Maria. ‘The terraced gardens you only see when you get to the edge of the lawn and look down. But it is sheltered and the Lady grows all kinds of flowers and plants there.’
‘Mrs Powys is a keen gardener?’ I asked.
‘Yes, like her mother before her. Especially she likes the Winter Garden on the middle terrace, where flowers bloom even now: it is like a miracle.’
‘I must see that. You wouldn’t think anything would flower this far north in winter,’ I agreed.
Henry was looking over the dining table with satisfaction. ‘There, that looks lovely – and now I know where everything we need is.’
He’s always quick to grasp and remember these things.
‘When there is no other staff, I do not use the silver cutlery that must be polished – there is no time. You saw the old diving helmets in the Great Hall?’
‘The copper and brass ones? Yes, you could hardly miss them!’ I said.
‘The cleaning service dusts them. The Lady is very particular and would like me to polish them, but as I tell her, I am just one person and cannot do everything.’
