Page 77 of The Christmas Retreat
‘If she’s only had soup to eat today, then the whisky will probably knock her out nicely,’ Rhys said cheerfully.
‘Yes, and perhaps she will feel much better in the morning,’ suggested Bronwen comfortably, taking off her apron and hanging it up.
Snookums and Pompey took this as a sign that no more turkey would be forthcoming and ceased to hang around her feet.
‘Cupboard love!’ she said severely to them both.
*
In the sitting room the rest of the party were slumped around in the comatose state induced by too much rich food all at once, except Noel and Evie, who were helping Cariad construct the Nativity scene on the coffee table.
The rest of us were all too stuffed to move for a while, but I had two cups of coffee and began to wake up a bit and, when the Nativity scene was finished and put in pride of place on the mantelpiece, I helped Cariad transfer most of her treasured new possessions up to her room.
She wanted me to watch another film with her after that –Arthur Christmas, another old favourite – but Rhys suggestedwe all go out to work off the excess calories and get some fresh air, instead.
Nerys and Timon had already slipped away – I expect they needed a little time on their own occasionally, when they had a house party – and Verity and Kate both said they intended working in their rooms for an hour or two, although I suspected they meant they would lie on their beds and examine the insides of their eyelids!
‘It’s going dark, Daddy,’ protested Cariad.
‘Not completely yet, and anyway, we’ve got torches,’ he said, but gave in eventually and let her stay to watch her film.
Evie and Noel told us they were just going to walk over the bridge to the bookshop, because Noel had remembered a book that might be useful to Evie.
So that just left me, Rhys, Toby and Pearl to wrap up like polar explorers and, armed with a selection of torches from the shelf in the garden hall, set out into the chilly dusk, our breath hanging in the cold air like ectoplasm.
We went past the pottery and took the processional path all the way up to Mab’s Grave, not using the torches as our eyes adjusted to the dusk. It was a clear evening and we could see lights across the estuary and the first stars coming out above.
Rhys had been right: the fresh air and exercise did make me, at least, feel much better and cleared the last haze of Prosecco out of my brain.
Toby and Pearl set off ahead of us on the way back down and when we got to the glade in the middle of the oak wood, there was no sign or sound of them.
I lingered a bit by the pool, where the still surface reflected a star or two through the gaps in the branches.
All was quiet and imbued with that special magic the spot seemed to hold … and once more, as I had at dinner, I seemed to feel a ghostly presence: this time not the disturbing one of Annie, but Arwen.
Had she, I wondered, loved this spot too? I remembered Rhys saying that since she was a city girl, living at Triskelion must have made her feel as isolated as if she was living on an island. But even if it had felt a little like a prison by the end of her stay, at least she had soon got away to live the life she really wanted, however briefly.
In fact, her life had been a three-act tragedy, with her parents’ deaths and then her guardian’s, whom she may well have grown fond of before his accidental demise ended her stay – and then, of course, her own life had come to a premature close the following year …
There was a sudden cracking noise – perhaps some creature stirring in the wood – and I came back to the present to find Rhys looking at me quizzically.
‘I’m icy cold!’ I said, suddenly realizing it and stamping my feet to try and restore the circulation.
‘That’s because you’ve been standing there in a daydream for about twenty minutes, at least.’
‘Oh, sorry – you must be freezing! You should have left me to it.’
‘You might have turned into a wood nymph and vanished into the trees, never to be seen again,’ he teased.
‘I think that’s more in Opal and Pearl’s line, really.’
‘Like the flu – and you don’t want that, either. Come on, it’s time to go back for an unbridled orgy of turkey sandwiches, Christmas cake and mince pies, washed down with whatevertakes your fancy, while indulging in a frenzy of board games, jigsaws, table tennis and cheesy old films.’
‘That sounds quite irresistible!’ I said happily, and followed him through the dark wood and out again into the clear, cold starry night.
24
Two by Two
