Chapter Twenty-Two #2
‘I’m good actually Carol,’ I said, indicating my still-full glass.
‘The house looks amazing. I mean, it’s gorgeous anyway, but the decorations are fantastic.
’ I gestured to the eight-foot Christmas tree beside the French doors and the family of singing mice in felted winter coats that were arranged on the pine dresser.
‘Is that – festive wallpaper too?’ I said, indicating the wall behind her and thinking she couldn’t possibly have redecorated just to celebrate one month of the year.
‘It’s a frieze,’ she said, pleased that I’d noticed.
‘It goes up quite easily and then I can take it down in the new year. I designed it myself, the recurring motif, and then there’s a company who made it for me.
It means I can have a different one for Easter, and one for Halloween…
Steve says it’s like being on a movie set sometimes!
’ She pointed to the current scene. ‘But the Christmas one is my absolute favourite. Can you see the little elves peeking out between the trees?’
I peered more closely at the gurning gnomic faces looming from log cabin windows and behind reindeer-drawn sledges. ‘I can,’ I said. ‘And I like the fields of candy-canes.’
‘I know it’s a bit childish,’ she said. ‘And it’s not as if there are any kids in the house to appreciate it, other than me – Steve says I’m like a big kid sometimes!
– but I just love Christmas. Must be because I’m called Carol!
’ She laughed, gesturing to her Santa hat. ‘Christmas Carol, that’s me!’
‘We could do with you at the library,’ I said, proceeding to tell her all about mine and Colin’s exploits decorating yesterday and the book tree I’d made today.
‘A book tree!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s a great idea!’
‘What’s a great idea?’ asked Tiggy, who had just entered the room silently shadowed by her husband John.
‘Hattie was telling me about the book tree she made at the library,’ said Carol excitedly. ‘I was thinking I could easily construct one for the drawing room.’
‘Goodness! Are you sure you need more decorations Carol?’ said Tiggy, graciously accepting a glass of mulled wine and shooing her husband back into the hall.
‘The house is fit to bursting with all of your delightful Christmas knick-knacks – so whimsical – I don’t know where on earth you find such an…
eclectic assortment. And it’s so extraordinarily festive already with all the flashing lights and bright colours – it’s a wonder you don’t have a constant migraine!
’ She laughed. ‘Besides, you’d probably need quite a few books to make a decent-sized tree. ’
‘Oh, but I’ve got loads of books upstairs,’ said Carol, undeterred. ‘Most of them are in the bedroom and the study but there are plenty in the studio too.’
‘A fitness studio?’ said Tiggy, her ears pricking up at the possibility of on-site gym facilities and how luxurious they might be in a house this size.
‘Oh, no,’ Carol laughed. ‘It’s an art studio.
’ She shook her head and laughed self-deprecatingly.
‘I paint a bit now and then. I’ve never really been any good, but Steve says I’m a very creative person and it makes me happy so…
’ She moved as if to gesture towards her personally designed wallpaper frieze and I rushed to interrupt her.
‘Well, of course you’re creative, Carol!’ I said. ‘You only need to take one look at the wonders you’ve worked with the décor throughout the house. Now, tell me what recipe you’ve used for that mulled wine. It smells delicious. Every time I try and make a batch it tastes like paint-stripper.’
As Carol went into detail about star anise and Sicilian oranges, I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d managed to stop her talking about how she’d designed the frieze.
I could just imagine how sneery Tiggy would be.
Unsurprisingly, given that I seem to be a magnet for awful people, it wasn’t long before Felicity came to join us.
‘Carol,’ she boomed. ‘Are you doing food at all? It’s just I can’t possibly keep drinking without something to line my stomach. Cava plays havoc with my IBS.’
‘It’s Champagne,’ said Carol nervously. ‘Not Cava, but yes, there should be waiters – well, some of the teenagers from the village – wandering round with trays of hot and cold hors d’oeuvres.
And I was just in the process of getting the platters ready.
’ She crossed to the American-style fridge and hauled out two large snowman-shaped trays of crudites and three terracotta bowls with robins stencilled around the edges.
‘Can we give you a hand?’ I said, taking one of the bowls from her. ‘Hmm, guacamole. My favourite.’
‘It’s homemade,’ said Carol looking pleased. ‘Try it.’ She gestured to a pepper stick.
‘I won’t touch avocados,’ Felicity announced, looking disparagingly at the green dip. ‘Not since I discovered their environmental impact.’ She gave Carol a stern look. ‘Do you know how much water is used to produce just one avocado? Three hundred and fifty litres! I just couldn’t live with myself.’
‘Did you have any luck getting someone to fix the heater for the outdoor pool, Felicity?’ asked Tiggy as she picked a single stem of carrot from the tray and nibbled on it, sans dip. ‘Maxine says the chap she used when their filtration system failed is very good. I could get you his number?’
‘I’m hoping Damon will take a look when he’s feeling up to it,’ said Felicity, shaking her head. ‘He’s amazing with technical stuff when he puts his mind to it. But of course, at the moment he’s still adjusting to the reality of his diagnosis.’
Carol and Tiggy nodded sympathetically and I didn’t feel able to ask directly what the diagnosis was, but Felicity was keen to enlighten me anyway.
‘We finally saw a specialist,’ she said, her mouth pursed tight.
‘Had to go private. The doctor we saw on the NHS didn’t know what he was talking about.
Said there was nothing wrong with Damon.
Trying to save money I expect. Anyway, the consultant we saw at Manor Park thankfully knew what he was doing and the tests showed that Damon has HFAAS. ’
‘Ohhh, right,’ I said, wondering if that was an acronym I should be familiar with. ‘Gosh, that’s uhm – that must have been a shock?’
‘What does it stand for again?’ asked Carol as she scooped a large dollop of festive caramelised onion chutney onto a baked camembert she’d just pulled out of the oven.
‘High Functioning Academic Aversion Syndrome,’ said Felicity.
‘To be honest it’s an absolute scandal that he’s been living with it for so long without a diagnosis.
I mean, it’s a rare condition. It usually only occurs in kids who are extremely bright.
’ She sighed. ‘And the specialist said that it can be linked to irregularities in the gut biome so we’re looking into that. It might explain his bloating.’
‘Do you think it’s the same underlying issue as your IBS?’ said Tiggy. ‘I was reading an article the other day about the levels of microplastics in food and it seems they can trigger all sorts of gastric problems.’
‘We’re all having our gut biome tested,’ said Felicity.
‘It’s a test they only do in certain labs so they’ve got to be sent to London.
Again, there’s no provision for it on the NHS.
’ Another deep sigh. ‘But no, it won’t be microplastics.
I’m very strict on ultra-processed foods. I won’t have them in the house.’
‘But I thought Andrew said that Damon was living on Peperami firesticks, Monster drinks and potato waffles with spicy sauce,’ said Tiggy.
‘I’m sure that’s what he said, just now in the sitting room.
He thought it might be why Damon’s put on so much weight recently.
That and the fact he’s so sedentary now.
That’s what Andrew said anyway.’ She smiled sweetly as she picked up a basket of warm focaccia and followed Carol towards the kitchen door.
‘Well, Damon can’t possibly exercise,’ said Felicity crossly, picking up the contraband guacamole and managing to dip one of her voluminous sleeves in it as she raced after Tiggy.
‘Not with his weak ankles.’ She pulled a face at her husband as we crossed the hallway, and I wondered whether Andrew would be getting it in the ear later for his lack of discretion regarding Damon’s dietary choices.
‘What with that and trying to get the student fees refunded it’s been quite the few weeks.
Feels like a long time since we were in Bali, I can tell you! ’
‘What a nightmare,’ I said, placing the platter of crudites down on the sideboard as indicated by Carol.
Felicity turned to me. ‘It has been extremely challenging,’ she said with feeling. ‘The university is being very difficult about it. They say that Damon had a full year of in-person tuition and therefore should pay for it like anybody else.’
‘I suppose they’re all struggling for funding at the moment,’ I said, dipping a piece of the focaccia into the Camembert and failing to get it into my mouth in anything approaching a tidy fashion. ‘Universities and colleges. Can’t be easy working in that sector.’
‘Layla’s university is quite well-funded though,’ said Tiggy, tucking into her second carrot stick of the evening.
‘Compared to Damon’s I mean. I heard they were taking on hundreds more foreign students this year to boost their income.
’ She sighed. ‘It’s a shame really that some of the top universities are so skewed towards international applicants now.
It makes it extremely hard for talented UK students to get a look in.
Your Layla probably got in just in time. ’
‘Uhm – perhaps,’ I said. ‘It’s always a bit of a gamble though isn’t it. A lot of luck involved with any of these things. How’s Reuben getting on? Did he hear anything from Oxford? I seem to remember Layla’s friend having her interview in early December last year.’
‘Well,’ she said with a little toss of her head. ‘Reuben’s decided he doesn’t want to go to Oxford actually. The whole system is rigged against children from private school now.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ I said, knowing I should leave it at that but being unable to help myself. ‘Out of interest, why does he feel that it’s rigged?’
‘They’ve got quotas now,’ she said. ‘So the vast proportion of places go to international students as I’ve said, and then from the UK applicants they’re being forced into accepting a disproportionately large number of state school pupils to demonstrate diversity.’
‘Ugh,’ said Felicity, rolling her eyes expansively. ‘It’s woke gone mad.’
‘But surely,’ I said, ‘it’s only seven percent of the population who are privately educated so maybe the system should be a little bit fairer for those kids who…’
‘Another drink, ladies?’ said Joe, appearing with the speed of a man who has seen his wife’s militant face from across the room and is worried that she’s about to put a spanner in the works of his painstaking business schmoozing.
‘Thanks darling,’ I said. ‘But I think I might try a glass of Carol’s delicious mulled wine, which is back in the kitchen.
Do you want one?’ I linked my arm through his and steered him away from Tiggy and Felicity.
‘Back in a tick,’ I said, having no intention of returning to their orbit, in a tick or otherwise.