‘It must be one of them SatNavvers,’ Nancy whispered. ‘Barking mad if she tried to get a car up the lane in this weather!’
Today I accused N of putting off telling his parents about us, because he feared they would not be pleased and think me not good enough, being the daughter of mill workers. He said neither would mine approve of him, since he was not a Strange Baptist or, indeed, any other kind of Baptist.
March, 1945
‘Hello?’ she said, looking from one to the other of us while pushing back a large, white fur hat that had slipped drunkenly over a face that was still extremely pretty, despite being pink and shiny with cold, exertion and temper. ‘Thank
God
there’s some sign of life in this hole. I was starting to think everyone had been wiped out by the plague, or something!’
‘Did you turn off the main road to get to Great Mumming?’ I asked her. ‘Only those SatNav things send you the wrong way.’
‘No, I
intended
coming here, but my car slid on the ice on the first bend and now it’s in the ditch. I need someone to drive me to Old Place.’
Nancy had been eyeing her narrowly. ‘Aren’t you that model that was engaged to Jude and came here last Christmas, the one that took up with his brother, instead? Arrived with one, and left with the other?’
‘I suppose you
could
put it like that. I’m Coco Lanyon. I expect you know me from the Morning Dawn Facial Elixir TV advert.’
‘No,’ Nancy said simply: I don’t suppose she gets a lot of time to watch the telly.
As well as the fur hat, Coco was wearing shocking pink Ugg boots and a long, white quilted coat. Her hair was platinum-pale too, but her face was still almost as pink as her boots.
Her voice, a trifle on the shrill side, must have penetrated Nicholas’s ears, because his wizened face suddenly appeared around the side of the chair again and he chipped in, in his own high but sweet, elven tones, ‘I’m Auld Man Christmas, you know!’
‘We know, Dad,’ Nancy said. ‘You just sit back and let me see to the customer.’
‘I’m not a customer,’ Coco snapped. ‘I’m merely in search of transport.’
‘But why are you going to Old Place?’ I asked and she swivelled her ice-blue eyes in my direction and looked down her retroussé nose at me . . . or tried to, because I was inches taller.
‘And
you
would be?’
‘Holly Brown. I’m looking after Old Place while Jude Martland’s away.’
‘Oh, right . . . did your husband drive you down? Because if so, you can take me back up with you right now.’
‘You’re mixing me up with the couple who usually come – I haven’t got a husband and I didn’t bring my car today, because it would never have got up the hill. In any case, why
do
you want to go there?’
‘You mean – Guy hasn’t arrived yet?’ she demanded, staring at me.
‘He hadn’t when I left a couple of hours ago and we certainly weren’t expecting him –
or
you. Why did you think he might be here?’
‘Because this is where he
said
he was going, of course!’
‘But . . . surely he wouldn’t have come here when he’s fallen out with his brother?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘Oh, but he rang old Noël early last week, so he knew Jude would be in the States right over Christmas and it would be safe to hole up here. But I’m not letting Guy get away with this – he can’t throw me over just because I sent the announcement of our engagement to
The Times
and set a date for the wedding! We’re going to Mummy and Daddy’s for Christmas, too, and they’ve invited
all
the family to an engagement party on Boxing Day.’
‘You didn’t tell Guy any of this beforehand?’ asked Nancy, clearly fascinated.
‘He’s a commitment-phobe, he’d have carried on dithering forever,’ Coco said shortly. ‘He may have dashed up here in a panic, but he’d better have got over it by now, because he’s coming straight back to London with me.’
I wouldn’t put it past her, either, because even cross and pink-faced she was stunningly beautiful . . . if you liked chilly blondes with ice-chip pale blue eyes, that is, and presumably, both Guy and Jude did.
Still, I certainly didn’t want another unexpected visitor, so she could remove him with my blessing. ‘I suppose you’d better come back to the house with me, I don’t really see what else you can do. Perhaps he’s arrived by now – he probably stopped off for lunch on the way, or something.’
I turned to Nancy. ‘Would it be all right if we left the luggage here for a bit? I’ve got all my shopping and I don’t suppose Coco can carry much more than the beauty box up with her. That case is
enormous
!’
‘What, this little thing?’ Coco said, astonished. ‘It’s only an overnight bag, in case we decided to go back early tomorrow instead of today. And I’m definitely not carrying anything anywhere, because I’m still exhausted from the walk from the car.
You
can go up to the house and tell Guy to come and fetch me. I’ll wait here and—’
George stuck his head through the half-open door just at that moment and, spotting me, said, ‘I thought you might be in here, Holly, Orrie said you headed this way. Did you want a lift back up to Old Place? It’s snowing again and I’m on my way home.’
‘
I
certainly do!’ Coco exclaimed and he raised a flaxen eyebrow at her.
‘This is—’ I paused. ‘I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten your second name.’
‘Coco Lanyon – the model.’
‘She was the one that was engaged to Jude last Christmas, and then took up with Guy instead,’ Nancy explained helpfully.
‘Only they’ve had a bust up,’ Nicholas piped. He was evidently following the intricate plot without difficulty now he was fully awake. ‘She thought he was up at Old Place and she’s followed him.’
‘Ah, that explains it! I thought I just saw that big black Chelsea tractor of Guy’s go up the lane, monster that it is,’ George said. ‘It’s well-gritted and he took a run at it, so he probably made it.’
‘There, you see?’ said Coco. ‘He
is
here.’
‘Is that your car in the ditch further down?’ asked George. ‘Ben from Weasel Pot said some madman had tried to get a sports car up the hill.’
‘Mad
woman
,’ Nancy suggested and Coco gave her a nasty look. ‘Yes, it’s mine and I’d like it towed out and brought up to Old Place as soon as possible.’
George removed his cap and scratched his head thoughtfully. ‘Them from Weasel’s Pot’ll tow it out for you all right, but it’ll cost you. And there’s no point them trying to get it up to the house, so they’ll probably leave it here in the village. Those little cars are too low down to be any use in the snow –
or
in the country, come to that,’ he added disparagingly.
‘Whatever,’ she said haughtily. ‘Now, please take me up to Old Place.’
‘If you don’t mind, George,’ I said apologetically. ‘But just as far as the lodge will do, I don’t want to put you out any more and we can drop off the bags there. Perhaps Guy will go down and fetch them.’
‘Don’t be silly, he must take me right up to the house,’ Coco insisted. ‘
You
can walk if you want to.’
‘I’ll take
you
home gladly, Holly – but I’ve two sheep in the back now, and the dog’s in the front, so I’ve no room for another passenger.’ He raised a fair eyebrow at Coco. ‘
You’ll
have to wait and see if Guy will fetch you, unless you want to try asking young Ben – he went into the public bar.’
‘Young Ben?’
‘From Weasel’s Pot.’
‘What is this weasel’s pot you all keep rabbiting on about?’ she said irritably.
‘The farm you passed after turning off the main road,’ I told her. ‘They have the council contract to plough the lane up to the village, and George here ploughs the lane down.’
‘That’s right, and you can ask Ben about towing your car out too, while you’re at it,’ George suggested.
‘Look, I’m in a hurry, so
you
get a lift up with this Ben, and tell him to get my car out for me,’ Coco said to me. Then she indicated her case to George, clearly expecting him to pick it up. ‘Right, I’m ready – but you’ll have to put the dog in the back.’
‘Sorry, no can do,’ he said, not looking sorry at all. ‘And I didn’t offer
you
a lift in the first place. I’m none too keen on that perfume you’re wearing and if it makes my Land Rover reek of musk, it’ll unsettle the dogs. They squeeze it out of weasel glands, you know.’
She stared at him. ‘Rubbish! This perfume is very, very expensive and they wouldn’t use something like that!’
‘Isn’t it musk rat glands?’ I said. ‘That sounds more likely.’
‘Happen you’re right,’ he conceded.
‘There’s an old Lancashire saying about weasels,’ piped Auld Nicholas and then declaimed in a thin, singsong voice: ‘“
If you see a weasel, pee in its ear. If you see another, tie its bum up with string
.”’
‘What on earth does that mean?’ demanded Coco.
‘No idea,’ Nicholas said. ‘Hee, hee!’
‘Senile!’ she muttered and, abandoning him, turned a sweetly seductive smile on George. ‘
Please
do take me up to the house – I’m so cold and tired! I can pay you for your trouble, you know.’
‘I’ve told you already, try your wiles on young Ben, you’ll get nowhere with me,’ he said shortly and she furiously flounced out in the direction of the public bar.
‘Let’s hope you get rid of her and Guy tonight,’ George said, helping me out to the Land Rover with my million and one purchases. ‘If not, she won’t be driving that sports car home, because nothing short of a four-wheel drive will make it down to the main road by morning.’
‘But Guy’s got one of those, you said? So I suppose he’ll drive them back tonight and arrange something later about her car,’ I suggested hopefully.
The sheepdog obligingly made room for me on the bench seat and we set off, George refusing to stop until he’d taken me right to the front door, where we found a large people-carrier still steaming gently: Guy
had
arrived.
I staggered in with my shopping and found all the family in the sitting room, which someone had now artistically festooned with swags and swathes of artificial greenery, mixed with the real thing that George had brought.
Tilda was sitting in her usual place on the sofa before the fire, Merlin fast asleep on the rug at her feet, while Noël, Becca and Jess were putting final touches to the Christmas tree.
A tall, dark, thin and very handsome man was leaning on the stone mantelpiece watching the proceedings and I would have easily recognised him as Guy from the family photos, even if I hadn’t expected to see him.
As I came in and put down the heavy bags I thought the room looked like a stage set, especially the way they all turned to look at me as if they’d been given a cue. Merlin hauled himself to his feet and ambled over, tail wagging furiously.
‘Ah, Holly, there you are! We’ve had an unexpected addition to the family party,’ Noël said gaily. ‘This is Guy, Jude’s younger brother.’
‘How do you do?’ he said, with a charming smile, shaking hands. ‘I’ve been hearing all about you!’
‘That sounds ominous,’ I said, bending down to stroke Merlin. ‘Actually, I knew you were here because I just ran into your—’
‘Have you got anything for
me
in that shopping bag?’ interrupted Jess.
‘Yes, some chocolate tree decorations.’ I rummaged in the hessian bag and found them.
‘Oh good, we hadn’t got any of those and Uncle Guy didn’t think to bring anything at all.’
‘I didn’t think I’d need to, because I expected to find that couple here Jude usually hires when he’s away. And since I knew they’d already invited Tilda, Noël, Becca and Jess for Christmas dinner, I thought one more wouldn’t make any difference.’
‘And you knew Uncle Jude wasn’t here to throw you out on your ear,’ Jess said. ‘You were sneaky and mean, going off with his girlfriend, even if I didn’t like her much!’
‘Neither do I now, that’s why I’m here,’ he drawled, not noticeably put out by this criticism.
‘Jess, that was very rude of you,’ Tilda said.
‘What the child said was true, though: you’ve always wanted what your brother had, from being a child. Then as soon as you got it, you lost interest,’ Becca said bluntly. ‘And you had a damned cheek, thinking you could just move in here while he was away and be looked after by the couple house-sitting.’
Guy reddened. ‘Part of the reason I came was because I was worried about Noël and Tilda, left to cope on their own. It was thoughtless of old Jude to cancel Christmas and go off in a huff.’
‘He was going to New York anyway and we told him not to bother about us – we could manage on our own. In fact, I was quite looking forward to cooking a Christmas dinner again,’ said Tilda, ‘and I would have done, if I hadn’t had that damned fall.’
‘I know you would have cooked a wonderful dinner, m’dear,’ Noël said soothingly. ‘But we’re quite happy to be back at the old homestead again now, with Holly in charge, aren’t we?’
‘I could see that’s what everyone wanted and I wouldn’t stand in your way,’ she said, casting herself into a martyr’s role with relish, though she’d clearly been more than relieved to be whisked up here and looked after. ‘You behaved very badly, Guy, so we could quite understand why Jude felt like a change this year and wanted to get away – especially when he found out about that engagement announcement.’
‘Yes, that’s all very well, but Jude is the head of the household now and he has responsibilities, like seeing Old Nan and Richard are looked after,’ Becca pointed out, shaking her head. ‘He didn’t need to invite Guy and that girl, so there would have been no problem.’
‘Never mind: thanks to lovely Holly here, it has all worked out well,’ Noël said, ‘and Jude will be back for Twelfth Night, which is the most important thing.’
‘You still haven’t told us why you’ve dashed up here, Guy,’ Tilda said. ‘Didn’t you tell us last week that you were spending Christmas in London with that girl?’ She frowned. ‘What
was
she called? It was something to do with clowns.’
‘Coco,’ said Jess. ‘Like a bedtime drink. Though it would have been much worse if she’d been called Horlicks, wouldn’t it?’ she added innocently.