A Proper Family Christmas (11 page)

Inside - joy of joys! An infrequent visitor to Haseley, but one of his favourite - Leo!

Maybe it was his particular smell, or a kindred feline nature the cat detected, but probably it was because of the way Leo utterly froze whenever he approached him. Scratch could impose his will on most people to a greater or lesser extent, but with no one was his domination so totally, satisfyingly complete as with Leo. He could do whatever he liked: jump up, claw his toes, knead him mercilessly, and still Leo would hold his stiff, stricken pose until rescue came, or the cat condescended to leave his victim voluntarily.

On sighting this appealing visitor, Scratch leaped forward with a cry of delight.

“Aargh!” said Leo.

The sound startled Frances, who'd thought the room was empty. She put her head inside - and froze. That burglar hadn't escaped after all! He was here in the dining-room! Whatever should she do? The cat was making a valiant attempt to pin him down, but it wouldn't be able to hold him for long. She would just have to go and fetch Tony, even if it did mean facing those people again.

Hilary pretended to be listening to Margery instructing Oliver about architecture, because otherwise she knew that Tony would collar her and make her look into his eyes and tell him all about her life. She surreptitiously felt the teapot on the table, but it was cold, and she was just wondering whether she could follow the nanny's example and escape, when the girl herself came bursting back into the room.

“Tony - I'm sorry - but that burglar…he's still here - in the dining-room…” she gasped.

“A burglar? Nonsense!” retorted Margery. “We've never had burglars at Haseley! There's a fine stucco ceiling in there. You must make a point of seeing it, Oliver.”

“I will. But - er…” He was looking at Hilary, an amused question in his eyes.

Her mouth dropped. Hadn't Julia put Leo in the dining-room? …And one of the nannies had seen him trying to get through the hall window!

“Don't worry, Frances!” Tony was squeezing the girl's arm. “We'll go and sort him out for you.”

“Please hurry!” she said desperately. “I've left the cat holding him down.”

“This I must see,” said Oliver.

Hilary, remembering Leo's antipathy to cats, let the others go in front of her, then slid past them towards the kitchen. The accusations and explanations were more than she felt she could take without a good strong cup of tea.

A peculiar knocking sound from the cellar reminded her for a moment of that face. She had imagined seeing it, of course - a trick of the dim light, and the knocking could be anything in an old house - death-watch beetle probably. …Like those odd noises she had noticed just now in the sitting-room wall.

The kitchen seemed warm and welcoming. William had the kettle on, and was engaged in some ludicrous argument with Julia about lettuce. It was reassuring to see that, despite his professed horror of eating anything ‘good for him', he looked just the same as ever. He sat hunched over his meal, addressing imprecations to Julia's heedless backside as she rummaged in his fridge, apparently searching for ice to put in a gin and tonic. With his bright eyes and rather beaky nose, he reminded Hilary of a grumpy little robin defending its territory. Neither of them noticed Hilary until she laughed.

For an instant William's face was transformed by a beam of delight.

“I heard you were about the place. So you've condescended to come and say hello to me, have you?”

“No,” She kissed his forehead. “I've come for a cup of tea. Good God, what are you eating?”

“My supper,” said William, with a belligerent look at Julia.

“What would you do with him, Hilary?” Julia gave up on the ice and came to lean against the kitchen table. “If Daddy's determined to get an ulcer…”

“I thought it was scurvy you were threatening me with.”

“Posy's just as bad. Refuses to go near a vegetable! Children seem to exist on crisps and chocolate bars nowadays, don't they? You can't ever get them to eat a proper meal.”

Very likely, Hilary thought, if you let your child fill itself up on junk food. Obviously Julia and Tony still had the
laissez-faire
attitude to Posy's upbringing that had made her the pudgy, self-centred little girl Hilary remembered.

“Where are the children?” she said aloud. “I haven't seen Posy or Tobias yet - or Stephen and Lesley, come to that.”

“Lucky you!” muttered William.

“Oh Daddy! Isn't he naughty? They're around somewhere. Posy took Tobias off for a game, and Stephen and Ratso went to look for them - oh, ages ago! Wouldn't you rather have a decent drink? I was just getting one for…anyone who wants one.” She cast a meaningful glance towards the dining-room that William might easily have seen.

“No - tea!” said Hilary firmly. “Do the bags still live in the toffee-tin?”

“Why wouldn't they?” said William.

“I don't know what we're going to do about supper,” said Julia. “Daddy says Aunt Margery and her friend were supposed to be eating out, but I expect we'll have to feed them. Have you got anything planned, Daddy?”

“No,” said William.

“Of course you have! Mrs. Arncott will have got something in when she heard we were coming.”

William's smile suggested otherwise.

“There'll be a few more than she expected. Let me see -
two
more, isn't it, Hilary - or thereabouts?”

Hilary still refused to rise to the bait. It wasn't fair to blame her for Leo's arrival, when Julia herself had let slip the news about the gathering at Haseley.

“I'm having
my
supper,” said William smugly. “I didn't invite anybody else here, and I don't see why I should feed them. - There's some bacon in the fridge,” he added as a dispensation to Hilary.

She had just been to the fridge for milk and seen that it was crammed with food. William also admitted, under cross-examination, that there was a turkey in the larder and plum-pudding in the cupboard. Mrs. Arncott had been to Sainsbury's the day before.

“I don't think food will be a problem…” she began, wondering why Julia had tried to make it one.

“Whatever's going on in the dining-room?” Julia interrupted suddenly.

In fact the sounds had been so faint that Hilary doubted if William would have noticed them unprompted.

“Poor Daddy! You can't get any peace, can you? I suppose you'll want to go and see what's happening.”

Tony paused at the dining-room door, put a finger to his lips and winked at Frances before flinging it wide.

“Oh!” He drew up short. “- Leo!”

“Is that who's causing all the trouble?” Margery clicked her tongue. “Bloody typical!” She pulled Oliver into the room. “This is the ceiling I was talking about…”

“But - do you know him then?” said Frances, considerably taken aback.

“Yes, it's Julia's cousin Leo - Aunt Margery's son,” said Tony.

“Her son?” Frances stared from Leo to his unconcerned mother, busily showing Oliver the tiles round the fireplace. “Then why on earth was he climbing…? I mean…” Was the whole family mad?

“Will somebody get this blasted cat off me?” interrupted the burglar through gritted teeth.

“Leo rather likes to be unconventional,” Tony explained. “I expect he thought the front door was a bit too mundane…”

“It wasn't like that at all. None of you would answer the damn bell! If this stupid girl hadn't decided to act so hysterically…”

Frances, not for the first time that day, found herself wishing she could have spent Christmas somewhere quite, quite else - Antarctica, perhaps. That awful misunderstanding about her and Tony had been bad enough, but then to have taken Margery's son for a burglar! Now that he stood in full light she could see that Leo had the Shirburn nose so prominent in his mother and William, and to a lesser extent in Stephen, but she really didn't know how she could have been expected to recognise a member of the family climbing unannounced through a window.

“You can't blame Frances,” Tony chuckled, moving to put an arm round her. She stepped out of reach, thankful that Margery was preoccupied with Oliver at the other end of the room, and Hilary didn't seem to have followed them in.

“What a splendid cat!” said Oliver suddenly, bending down to click his fingers at Scratch.

“Do you like cats?” said Leo hopefully. “Perhaps you could get this one to go away.”

Scratch looked from one to the other, weighing up the possibilities. He hadn't had time to exploit the full potential of Leo, and people who professed to like cats were in danger of sweeping one up and subjecting one to undignified excesses of affection. On the other hand, this man was new and was wearing a very attractive coat…

“Thank Christ for that!” said Leo, getting up and stretching. “It's been a nightmare in here, I can tell you. There's the weirdest of noises coming from that cupboard.”

“What are you lurking about in here for, anyway?” Tony asked him.

“It's all Julia's fault. She said I had to hide from William,” said Leo, with an air of grievance. “I can't think why the old bugger's taken it into his head he doesn't like me! - I suppose it's because I can't help speaking my mind. Old people always think they can be as rude as they bloody well want,” He lowered his voice so that Margery wouldn't hear. “and they can't stand it when they come up against someone who just isn't prepared to be intimidated… Oh! Hello, Uncle William!”

“Harrumph!”

William surveyed the scene in his dining-room and was not pleased. Margery had promised him Leo wouldn't turn up and there he was, hopping about in that irritating way of his, embarrassed yet attention-seeking. Julia's husband was ogling the poor little nanny. Margery was prodding the woodworm in the shutters and had a stranger with her who must be that pansy friend of Rofford's. He was perched on the edge of the table letting the cat take ecstatic liberties with the corner of his coat.

The man stood up when he saw William and held out his hand. William backed away.

“Don't look so grouchy,” said his elder sister. “I didn't bring Leo. He came with Hilary, I gather. This is Oliver Leafield. We've started to look round, but the place is even worse than I remembered. Did you know that there's woodworm in these shutters?”

Tony sidled up to Hilary with a grin. “So you're responsible for Leo, are you?”

“No, I'm not. I only…”

“We mustn't be horrid to Hilary about it.” Julia squeezed her waist. “There's no reason on earth she shouldn't pal up with Leo, just because the rest of us are so beastly.”

“But I haven't. He only gave me a lift…” It was so unfair! Even the nanny seemed to be eyeing her reproachfully.

Tony winked, and Julia frowned at him. “Not another word! It's a pity we couldn't keep the dread news from Daddy, but you were all making such a noise in here. I really don't know how he's going to manage Christmas with all these people,” she went on, in a voice only just subdued. “He shouldn't have let everyone dump themselves on him like this! What with Margery's architect friend, and Stephen and Ratso insisting on bringing their nanny…”

“Hi…!” Everyone turned to the doorway. The single syllable was long drawn-out, a little plaintive, designed to attract the full attention of everybody in the room. A girl in an outrageously short tight skirt was posing with an arm against the door-jamb, like the guest star in an American sit-com waiting for her entrance to be applauded before carrying on with her scene. “What's going on?” Her eye ranged across her audience, pausing speculatively at the most eligible-looking man.

Hilary nearly laughed out loud. Leo's expression couldn't have been more horrified if the girl had offered him a good time behind Kings Cross Station.

Oliver's lips twitched, as he was dismissed in one assessing glance. Margery's mouth curled in undisguised disgust. Tony said “Hi there, Shelley! Been having a snooze? You've missed all the fun.”

A flicker of something in Shelley's eyes - a kind of smug recognition - gave Hilary a flash of insight. ‘She's had him already,' she thought.

“This is Posy's nanny,” said Julia, “ - our wonderful Shelley! You haven't found Posy, have you darling? Hilary's longing to see her - and dear little Tobias, of course.”

“No,” said Shelley, eyeing Hilary without interest - a mere woman, and middle-aged at that. Hilary smiled ruefully.

Despite her conversation with Tony, Frances felt a pang of conscience at the mention of Tobias. It was past his bed-time now, and Lesley must have been coping with the trauma of bathing him in the cavernous bathroom, finding him something he would eat and settling him into bed, all without the assistance of his nanny.

On the other hand they might have been calling for her for ages. She wished she could catch Shelley's eye, or get to the door, but it meant either crawling under the dining-room table or pushing past the waspish Leo.

“I wouldn't open that if I were you,” he was saying to Oliver, who was about, at Margery's invitation, to investigate the china-cupboard. “There've been the most extraordinary noises coming from it - rats or something.”

“Have you got rats, William?” asked Margery accusingly.

“Of course not! What do you think I keep that great cat for?”

Scratch, who had had to abandon the coat when Oliver moved, looked up guiltily from Leo's shoe-laces.

“I tell you there's something frightful in there.”

“Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Leo!”

“Open it, someone, for heaven's sake!” said Julia. “I can't stand the suspense.”

Oliver, apparently without fear, opened the double doors of the cupboard. He revealed Posy and Tobias, a picture of innocent childhood, in the process of holding a tea-party with some of the little coffee cups.