Page 39 of One More Christmas at the Castle
‘Since you spent a lot of time here when you were younger, Mitras Castle must feel like a home from home, too?’ I suggested.
‘It does and I’m very fond of it. After I’d got a scholarship to Rugby – which was a bit of a shock after living at home in Athens and going to the International School – I spent the half-terms and a week or two of the summer holidays here withAsa and Sabine, which was always fun. Asa could make even going to the village shop an exciting expedition.’
‘Henry’s a bit like that. He’s a cheerful, glass-half-full person and likes to wring the last bit of enjoyment out of everything – like chopping logs, which he was doing when I came out …’
I suddenly checked my watch. ‘Look at the time! I really must get back. I wanted to make some soup to go with the cheese omelettes and I’ll just have time if I don’t hang about.’
Without ceremony, I headed straight for the steps, but Xan soon caught up and fell in beside me, Plum under his arm.
‘Henry told us he was a house elf,’ he reminded me. ‘So perhaps you’re the kitchen elf and do the cooking, while he’s the front-of-house elf, as it were?’
‘Pretty much, unless we’re really busy with a house full of guests. I do most of the cooking, though Henry makes the canapés, nibbles, scones and biscuits, because he enjoys it.’
I kept up a fast pace as we crossed the bridge over the stream in the Winter Garden and went on up the path that led us through the stone tunnel, where we had to go in single file. Or one and a bit file, in Xan’s case.
‘We have our main roles,’ I continued, once we’d emerged through the ferns at the other end, ‘but we can both multitask when necessary. And we both adore organizing successful house parties, making sure everyone, including our employers, has a lovely, relaxed time. Creating delicious food is my main contribution to that.’
We went up the remaining terraces so quickly that I felt quite warm and out of breath by the time we arrived at the top of the final flight of steps. As I paused to catch my breath, a small white hatchback shot out of the dark maw of the drive and came to a halt on the gravel in front of the porticoed front door.
‘That’s got to be Lucy coming back!’ Xan said, soundingalarmed. ‘I’ll dodge down the steps and cut round through the woods. You haven’t seen me.’
‘Coward,’ I called after his retreating form. Really, I would have to get a grip on my tongue and stop being so familiar!
I assumed my polite, professional expression and followed the path across the lawn to the car, where luckily, Lucy had been too busy extricating herself to spot Xan. As I neared, she managed to untangle a woolly scarf that had wrapped itself around the gear stick and then went round to open the boot.
‘Can I help you carry anything in?’ I asked as she began to haul out a bundle of newspapers and magazines, a couple of large paper carrier bags, one oozing ominously from a corner, and a lot of flowers.
‘Oh, it’s you, Dido! Yes, if you don’t mind, that would be such a help!’ she said gratefully. ‘Perhaps you could take the flowers round to the Garden Hall. We use the cloakroom off it to do the floral arrangements in – you know where that is?’
‘Yes, I noticed the vases on the shelf above a little worktop.’
I relieved her of the flowers, which were bundled in thick, striped paper.
‘They will have to stand in buckets of water until I have time to arrange them,’ she fluted, tightening her grasp on a sliding armful of papers. She clutched them to her more firmly and took hold of the handles of the carrier bags.
‘Henry can arrange them for you, if you prefer?’ I offered. ‘He does it very well.’
‘Really? That would be excellent, because I’m quite exhausted! And I simplymustdash in with the papers, because usually they’re on the table in the hall long before this and I expect Sabine has been looking forThe Times.’
She paused to draw breath, but showed no signs of moving.
‘Well, I must go and start on lunch,’ I said firmly, and escapedround the side of the house. Behind me I’d heard the sound of a lot of papers and magazines cascading on to gravel and some high-pitched twittering, but I didn’t look back.
I deposited the flowers in buckets of water – they were not a terribly inspiring selection, though there were a dozen elegantly tall and straight-stemmed roses, probably flown in at huge expense from some far country – and went to inform Henry that he had an extra task to perform. On the way, I nearly fell over Plum, who was sitting in the doorway, watching me.
‘Hello!’ I said, and he got up, wagging his tail, and followed me through the swinging baize door, which always reminded me of a vertical billiard table.
There was no sign of Xan, so perhaps he’d gone straight back to the study to do some more work before lunch.
I could hear Henry, though. He was singing the Monty Python ‘Lumberjack Song’ from the direction of the staff sitting room.
When I put my head round the door, I found him arranging our board games on the bookshelf beneath his DVD collection, and he’d already unpacked our tins of chocolates, biscuits and savoury snacks, ready for late-night film watching.
‘This is starting to look more homely already,’ I said. ‘I’m just going to put some soup on for lunch – it had better be French onion, that’s quick – and cheese omelettes to follow. Then, once that’s sorted, I’m going to take an inventory of food and drink and make some lists. It’s time to get organized.’
‘Yes, I thought I might look into the booze supplies later,’ he agreed.
I told him about the flowers and he said, ‘Oh, good! I’ve been dying to do something with the dismal floral arrangements! I’ll go and work my magic on them before I lay the table for lunch.’
