Page 5 of A Manny for Christmas

‘At the farm. You? Botswana?’

‘It was Malawi. And no, shithead, I’m standing outside Belvedere, but it’s a fucking building site.’

‘What? When did you get back?’

‘This morning,’ I answer glumly. ‘Rented a bike at Heathrow. Thought I’d come and find some sanity in the real world.’

‘You idiot. Should have told me you were coming. We’re having works done—we won’t be back in till the week before Christmas.’ He pauses. ‘Hopefully. I’m not holding my breath.’

‘Where are you living?’

‘We’re staying at the farm. I don’t—look. Just come over, okay? We’ll work something out. Worst case, you can sleep on the sofa tonight. We’re in a cottage called The Dovecote—it’s signposted from Reception.’

‘All right.’ I swipe the toe of my boot across the dust that’s leeched through the gates to the pavement. ‘Place looks like a bomb-site, mate. Hope you get in for Christmas.’

He sighs. ‘Tell me about it. Just come over, okay? We’ll get you fed and sorted out.’

* * *

I should have knownThe Dovecote would be far less modest than its name suggested. This must be one of Sorrel Farm’s newer offerings. It’s a substantial cottage with immaculate stonework and a glossy front door. There’s no way Evelyn would shack up in a two-up, two-down, even temporarily.

I may only have met my newish sister-in-law a handful of times, but I know she enjoys the finer things in life. And why not? My brothers and I are lucky enough to have decent trust funds, but the wealth Evelyn and her ex-husband have accumulated through their business empire is on another level altogether. I chuckle to myself. My middle brother is a jammy bastard.

As if to underscore my point, his ugly mug appears at the front door and he pulls me into a huge hug. One look at him tells me this guy is thriving in his wedded bliss. Not sure I’ve ever seen Angus look so well. He has a few more grey hairs since my last trip home a couple of years ago, but there’s a levity about him that wasn’t there before Evelyn came into his life.

‘Bloody hell, mate.’ He holds me close and thumps my back. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘You too, bro.’ I hug him more tightly, mainly to remind him that I’m still more ripped than he is, but the wave of emotion I feel at seeing him takes me by surprise. Angus may be a decade older than me, but he’s always had my back. Our eldest brother, Julian, has only a couple of years on Angus, but he never made quite the same effort with me that Angus did.

Since Mum and Dad passed, Jules has run the family estate back home in Derbyshire, whereas Angus and I have had to forge our own paths in life. Those paths are more similar than they may appear at first glance.

Just like me and Angus.

He steps back to make room for me to pass through the front door. ‘Come in, come in.’

I saunter through and let out a low whistle. ‘Fucking hell, mate. Slumming it while the work’s being done?’

He has the good grace to laugh. This place looks like it belongs in a Christmas magazine spread: all greens and whites and golds, with shitloads of fresh greenery everywhere and a huge tree standing in one corner.

‘Yeah, it’s pretty nice. We just finished developing these as guest cottages six months ago. And it makes life easy, being on the farm. Even if the school run’s a little longer from here.’

‘You’re not still doing the graveyard shift, though, are you?’

He takes my bag off me and puts it neatly by the door. ‘No, Evelyn saw to that when we got together. She hired someone to do the early mornings. Thank God.’

Light footsteps sound overhead before the woman herself comes into view on the stairs. She’s holding their daughter, Rose, whose christening provided the impetus for my last trip home and whom I haven’t met since.

‘Max! Hi!’ She holds out her free arm as she approaches before drawing me into a tight one-armed hug. She smells amazing, as always, and looks hot as hell, as always.

Did I mention my brother is a jammy bastard?

He did well with the girls back in the day—we all did—but, Jesus Christ, is his second wife a knockout. She’s in a long, floaty dress, hair and makeup immaculate, and, try as I might, I cannot find a single fault in her.

Except that she’s probably not the kind of woman who’d take a camping trip with you.

But, aside from that minor flaw, she seems like a genuinely lovely woman who looks at my nerdy middle brother like he’s the second coming of Christ.

And for that, she has my undying loyalty.

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