Page 76 of One More Christmas at the Castle
‘No, I can slide the boxes down the stairs after me, they’re not that heavy,’ Henry said.
‘As long as they don’t gain enough momentum to bowl you over, Henry, because “killed by a Nativity set” wouldn’t look too good in your obituary.’
‘It would certainly be novel,’ he agreed, flashing his torch around into the darkest corners to make sure we hadn’t missed anything – which we hadn’t, unless they decorated their Christmas trees with huge spiders around here.
‘Come on, let’s start moving everything down to that empty bedroom opposite yours, so we can sort them out in comfort,’ I said. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing what’s here. I do love baubles, especially old ones!’
‘Me too,’ he agreed.
‘I’m dying to know why the Angel Gabriel has a whole large box to himself.’
‘His wings may not fold,’ Henry said seriously.
But I didn’t get as far as opening any of the boxes, because by the time we’d transported everything down the narrow stairs, time had galloped past and I was hot, tired and very dusty.
I left Henry ripping the tape off the tops of cartons and went to shower, wash my hair and change into a pair of my soft and comfortable velour jogging trousers and a sweatshirt. And no, my joggers aren’t the kind with cuffs at the ankles, because those make you look like a clipped poodle.
I plaited my still damp hair loosely over one shoulder. I was starting to feel that the days of wearing my hair up in a braided coronet were coming to an end. Maybe it was because Henry and I were thinking about winding up the business and I wouldn’t need the protection of a slightly aloof professional persona any more.
Simon arrived, bringing a tin of shortbread biscuits, closely followed by Xan, who brought only Plum, and we all chilled out together in front of one of Henry’s favourite films,Chalet Girl, which is not, strictly speaking, a Christmas one, but has lots of snow.
We seemed already to have our own seats – mine on one end of the sofa, with Xan at the other and Plum asleep between us – or on my lap – Henry, in a big chintzy armchair and Simon choosing a button-back wing chair.
The fake log effect of the electric fire lent a cosy air to the room, but it was already warmed by the clanking radiators anyway.
Henry went into the kitchen and popped corn halfway through the film and then, when it finished, I made us all hot chocolate.
While we drank it, Henry told the others about our quest for the Christmas decorations and the huge boxes containing the Oberammergau Nativity set.
‘I opened the top of one and the carved wooden figures are almost as big as I am!’
‘I think that might be a slight exaggeration, Henry,’ I said mildly.
Xan remarked that he remembered the set from earlier Christmas visits. ‘I think it dates back at least to Sabine’s parents’ day, if not before.’
‘Where did they put it, can you remember?’ Henry asked.
‘Yes, in the back right-hand corner of the Great Hall. There’s a wall lamp there, which lights it up a bit.’
‘Then that’s where it will go this time. We’re trying to make things as close as possible to how Sabine remembers them from her early childhood, and I expect if it’s old it was always set out in the same place.’
A thought suddenly occurred to me and I lowered my mug of hot chocolate. ‘Do you realize it’s only just over two weeks until Christmas Day?’
‘Santa had better bring me something good, because I haven’t had the chance to be naughty since we got here,’ Henry said. ‘Only nice.’
I gave a shiver of anticipation, feeling as excited as a child. I might have been a late developer in the traditional Christmas magic stakes, due to my rather austere experiences with Granny Celia and Dora, but I’d more than made up for it since.
It had been another relaxed and enjoyable evening, much like the gatherings at Henry’s lodge, when I was the only woman in a room full of nice, if somewhat zany, youngish men.
Only … it wasn’tquitethe same, for I was always strangely conscious of Xan sitting near me, with only the width of a small dog between us.
22
On the Shelf
The solar lights arrived first thing on Monday morning and looked very sturdy, as they would need to be, out there on the lawn, exposed to the elements.
The sun had appeared in a clear, pale azure sky again and I thought perhaps we were in for a spell of sunny, cold days and freezing nights. I hoped so, anyway, so the solar panel would charge up quickly, once the lights were up. There was a sturdy stepladder in one of the storerooms I could use to reach the top of the tree … but I’d wait till Wednesday, when Mrs Powys would be out, so sparkling stars would welcome her on her return just before tea.
