Page 39 of The Cosy Travelling Christmas Shop

Chapter 11

Daniel loved old manor houses because they usually had wonderfully old and well-established gardens to accompany them. This one was an exception. What had once probably been magnificent lawns to the front of the house had been mostly tarmacked over, and what was left of the lawn now had a giant marquee plonked on it.

MissCarruthers (she’d been quite acerbic on the phone when he’d accidentally called herMrs) was waiting to greet him as his truck crunched up the potholed drive the following Wednesday afternoon. It was a dim and dismal day with lowering clouds, and it was starting to get dark already.

‘I need it done urgently,’ she informed him brusquely. ‘The manor has an event on at the weekend, and I’d like it completed by then.’

That explained the huge white tent. But it didn’t explain why she’d made him wait until this week to remove the offending ivy, when he could easily have done it last week and saved rushing the job.

Daniel studied the front of the house, and from where he was standing the encroaching ivy didn’t appear to be too much of a problem.

‘Not here,’ she told him. ‘Around the back.’

She moved out from under the rather grand porch entrance and shooed him away. He stood to one side as she marched past, a thin, slight woman possibly in her late sixties or early seventies, with a hairstyle reminiscent of Princess Anne’s and an expression of exasperation on her face. The drive swept around the side of the house, and he guessed that was where they were heading, as he followed behind and gazed up at the house.

It had seen better days, but it still bore a hint of its former grandeur in the columned porch, the enormously tall windows on the ground floor, and the smooth butter-yellow stone that the building was constructed from. Daniel couldn’t even hazard a guess at the number of rooms within its walls, but he knew he’d love to see inside at some point.

‘Ah, I see what you mean,’ he said, when the rear of the grand old property came into view. Hardly a window could be seen for foliage.

‘It’s evergreen,’ Miss Carruthers added, unnecessarily.

‘It’s going to be messy,’ he warned. There was no simple way of stripping the clinging strands of vines from the walls without making a mess on the ground below.

‘Yes, well, do the best you can,’ she instructed. Her mouth was a thin straight line and her eyes were narrowed in dislike as she glared at the offending climber. ‘As I said, I need it done urgently. The builders will be here on Monday.’

It was going to be tight. Ivy was a nuisance to get rid of, as its tendrils burrowed into the stonework and refused to let go without a fight. Even then they left marks on the bricks, as a ghostly reminder.

He moved closer to the wall and gave one of the tendrils a tentative tug. It came away with a small protest, and he snapped it off.

‘I can’t do much today,’ he advised; the light was fading fast. ‘I’ll make a start in the morning, if that’s all right with you?’

‘It’ll have to be,’ she retorted sourly.

He got the feeling she’d be more than happy for him to work throughout the night, but he didn’t intend to go up a ladder in the dark. However, there was something he could do right now which wouldn’t take very long, and that was to saw through the trunks of the ivy. He’d cut them as close to the ground as possible. Ideally this should have been done months ago to allow the plants to die back and make their removal easier.

When he mentioned it, all Miss Carruthers said was, ‘Get on with it, then.’

‘Don’t you want me to give you a quote first? It’ll take me a good two days to remove this lot.’

She pinned him with a steely gaze. ‘Phoebe – Mrs Williams to you – assures me that you won’t charge more than the job is worth. Please don’t disappoint me.’

‘But you don’t know how much—’

‘Be here bright and early tomorrow. You can collect your payment on Sunday – I’ll have the money for you by then. Will cash do?’ Her tone indicated that cash would have to do, whether he liked it or not.

Irritated, Daniel began to walk back to his truck to fetch the necessary equipment. He could make a start, at least.

‘And please park your vehicle around the back in future,’ she instructed as a parting shot, leaving him with the definite impression that hired help such as himself, should be neither seen nor heard.

As he set to sawing and cutting, Daniel felt like he was taking part in an episode ofDownton Abbeyand he wondered if he should have doffed his bobble hat to her.

He didn’t care, though; he was doing what he loved and getting paid for it. And anything was better than dressing up as Father sodding Christmas. He still had nightmares about last Saturday – although it had more to do with Seren. Of all the people to bump into him, it had to be her. Fate must have been having a good old chuckle at his expense.

He had been tempted to ask himself ‘what were the chances?’, but that would be silly. He’d known she was planning on using the former ice cream van as a travelling gift shop, so he should have anticipated that he might see her at one of the events he was also booked into. He might have got away with not being recognised if he’d been dressed in his suit, with the wig, the beard, the eyebrows and the little round glasses. He might even have got away with it if he’d bumped into her without the darned suit in his hands, as he could have told her he was there to do some Christmas shopping. But he had to meet her as he was carrying his suit to the grotto, when it was pretty evident why he was at the market.

Not only that, Tobias had obviously filled her in on what he was doing and the reason he was doing it, and Daniel felt like a total failure. He might have his own business, but it wasn’t a thriving one like Tobias’s was. Seren must think he was a total loser, despite her saying she thought him playing the part of Santa Claus was wonderful. She probably hadn’t meant it and was just being nice.

He also hadn’t failed to notice how her face lit up when she’d said Tobias’s name. It looked like his friend had made yet another conquest.

As he sawed through the surprisingly sturdy trunks of the vines, Daniel again thought how pretty she was. Cute, even. In his mind’s eye he could see her long blonde hair, wide mouth, and blue almond-shaped eyes. Cornflower blue, that was the colour. Or maybe grape hyacinth? Or was bluebell closer? And she’d felt so light, as though she’d hardly weighed anything when he’d yanked her to her feet.

Stop it, he told himself. Thinking about her only served to make him crotchety and he was irritable enough already. For once, not even his beloved gardening was helping to lift the grumpy funk he’d been in since Saturday.

At least he had two days at the manor, doing what he loved, and he was mercifully free of Santa appearances until the following weekend, so that was something to be thankful for.

But no matter how hard he sawed, or how much he tried, he still couldn’t shift Seren’s face from his mind.

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