Page 21 of A Very Irish Christmas
As I leave the room, I notice that even the door is made to an enormous scale – everything in this house seems to have been built for giants. In the hallway outside, I am greeted with more family portraits. There’s an especially dour-looking dude with a big ruffed collar and a floppy hat at the bottom of the stairs, and I stick my tongue out at him.
‘That’s Earl William Carruthers de St George,’ Charles tells me, suddenly appearing at the foot of the staircase. ‘I don’t think he’s used to such disrespect!’
‘I can imagine – he’d probably have me burned as a witch. But come on, he looks like such a bore! You can’t tell me that when you were kids, you didn’t do exactly the same? Or slide down this shiny banister? Or try and fit inside the suit of armour and walk around pretending to be a knight?’
‘Pretending? How insulting! That’s one of my ceremonial titles! And yes – of course. Many generations of Bancroft bottoms have slid down that banister – though you have to be very careful of the carved wooden pineapple at the end, or the family line could come to an abrupt and painful halt. How are you this morning? I believe you met Georgina?’
‘I’d say “met” is too subtle a word… she’s great, isn’t she?’
I add the last few words partly because they’re true, but also because he looks concerned. He moves in different circles than me, ones that are potentially less tolerant. Georgina looksevery inch the posh young English lady, but her personality and behaviour seem quite out of synch with that role. Added to that the problems with discipline, and I can guess life hasn’t always been easy for her dad.
‘She is. It’s good to have her home again, and now all I need to do is find a tutor who can tolerate her for more than a day. She’s actually very bright, and with adjustments the dyslexia shouldn’t hold her back, but I think perhaps she worries about it more than she lets on, and there have been a few family issues, and… well, that’s more than you probably want to know!’
‘Not at all. I’m super-nosy. But whatever her deal is, I’m sure she’ll be fine, Charles – being a teenage girl is never easy, and she’ll find her way through it all. Not everybody has to be perfect, do they?’
He smiles at me, and his deep green eyes meet mine. He’s dressed more casually this morning, in well-worn Levi’s and a pale blue shirt that emphasises the golden tone of his skin. He is, to channel my own inner teenage girl, totally dreamy.
‘That’s very kind of you to say. Does it come from experience? Were you an awkward teenager?’
‘I wasn’t too bad as a teen actually. I was always a good girl, always wanted to please. But these days, I’m pretty much the family loser. I had a thing happen to me – not even that serious a thing compared to other stuff that goes on in the world – but it… well, it kind of derailed me for a while. I basically lost my mojo, you know?’
He reaches out and lays a comforting hand on my shoulder. His touch is warm, his fingers firm, and I resist the urge to lean into him like a cat looking for affection.
‘I do. Mojos are rare and precious items, surprisingly easy to lose. Is that one of the reasons you’re here? Searching for it?’
‘Yeah. And to be honest, I think maybe it’s working a little? Or maybe I’ve just been busy. I definitely haven’t been thinking about the stuff that normally upsets me anywhere near as much.’
This is true – since I arrived in the Cotswolds I haven’t had a minute where I’ve felt ashamed of myself, or worried that I’m a waste of space. I’ve felt plenty of other things – angry, confused, like I’d made a mistake by coming here – but never quite the same toxic self-loathing stew.
‘Well, that’s good news. Maybe I should build it into one of my business proposals,’ he says, leading me towards the Blue Room. ‘Bancroft Manor – mojo hunting a speciality.’
‘Business proposals?’
‘Yes. I’m trying to drag this place into the 21stcentury – if we’re going to survive, we need to diversify our income streams. The upkeep on this place is tremendous, and my only other alternative would be to put the rents up for the villagers, which I very much do not want to do. I was in London discussing it all with a few possible backers.’
‘Well, it’s a beautiful place, and it has a lot of potential. With a little TLC you could use it for retreats, or wellness events – people love those! You could hold special weekends for different interest groups – people who are into gardening, wildlife, whatever. You could hire in some experts to run classes – art, photography, writing, that kind of thing – and offer it with luxury accommodation packages. Cooking classes could be a hit – people love learning how to cook, and your kitchen is big enough for a masterclass. You could hold events – it would be beautiful for a wedding or a party – or even hire it out as a movie location…’
I realise that he has stopped walking, and I am talking too much. He stares down at me, frowning slightly, and says: ‘Where did all of that come from? I’ve been thinking about this for years and didn’t come up with all of those!’
‘Oh. Uh. The top of my head, I guess?’
‘What do you do, Cassie, as a job, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I’m an event planner. Once quite high level, now more of “make sure the clown is booked and don’t forget the piñata” kind of girl. But I can see exactly how fantastic this place could be – I’m sorry if I over-stepped.’
‘Not at all. In fact, I’d love to hear more. Maybe we can carve out a little time to chat? I know you’re on holiday so I wouldn’t want to impose, but perhaps dinner one evening?’
I feel a little rush of warmth, and know that at least some of it is spreading to my face. Sometimes being a redhead really sucks. I remind myself that he’s not asking me out on a date. Men like this do not go on dates with women like me. He’s just looking for some free business inspiration – which I am happy to provide.
‘That would be amazing, Charles. I’m sure I won’t come up with anything life-changing, but, well, glad to help.’
‘Splendid, I shall look forward to it. Now, we’d better go through – Georgie will be swinging from the chandeliers.’
We walk into the Blue Room, and actually find her lying flat out on one of the couches, giggling at her phone.
‘I’m watching a TikTok of a Great Dane getting chased around by a dachshund! It’s hilarious, he’s enormous but he’s terrified!’
She wipes tears of laughter from her cheeks, and adds: ‘How on earth did you old people pass the time before you could look at videos online?’
