Chapter 8 Cheesed
Cheesed
We all trooped after Nerys to the room at the back of the house, which she called the refectory.
It was large, with a dark wooden floor, and was big enough to accommodate a long trestle dining table down the middle, as well as several smaller ones, a table-tennis table, and an upright piano in one corner.
There was a long serving table against the further wall, next to a door.
A large artificial Christmas tree, hung with bright baubles and twinkling with fairy lights, and the paper garlands criss-crossing the ceiling lent an air of festivity.
‘Come along in!’ urged Nerys, as we bunched together in the doorway like a lot of nervous sheep, but by then my mother, predictably, was already leading the way. If we had been sheep, she would be the one who jumps down into the middle of single-track roads and dares cars to come any further.
Tudor, clad in a blue-and-white-striped apron, was setting a water carafe in the middle of a bright scarlet runner, which ran down the middle of the long table, whistling between his teeth. He turned and beamed at us.
‘This is Tudor Parry, everyone,’ said Timon.
‘He and his wife, Bronwen, look after us all so well. Oh, and here is Bronwen!’ he added, as a plump, middle-aged woman, with her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a no-nonsense French plait, backed into the room through the swinging door, carrying a tray of glasses.
A wonderfully savoury smell of cooking came into the room through the swinging door with her and I realized I was ravenous!
She gave the tray to her husband and said briskly, in a manner that reminded me strongly of Liv, ‘Good evening, everyone. Who are the two vegetarians?’
‘Oh, that would be us,’ said Pearl.
‘Yes,’ agreed Opal. ‘We are really vegans, but we so wanted to come that we decided to compromise.’
Before the kitchen door could stop swinging, a small white terrier burst into the room, ears flapping, and made a beeline for Cariad, who dropped to her knees to hug him.
‘Snookums!’
‘He’s supposed to be shut in the scullery,’ said Nerys. ‘But, if no one objects, he can stay – so long as you don’t try and feed him bits of your dinner under the table, Cariad.’
‘Of course not,’ Cariad said virtuously. ‘And he’ll be so quiet, no one will know he’s there.’
‘Well, I don’t know why we’re all standing around – please sit down, everyone!
’ said Timon. ‘Nerys and I always take the head and foot of the table, but other than that, do sit wherever you like … although I would be honoured if Evie and Kate sat on either side of me,’ he added manfully, assigning the two elder and more combative female members of the party to his end of the table.
‘And Cariad had better sit next to me,’ said Nerys.
‘I want Uncle Noel on my other side, then,’ Cariad announced, dragging him with her round to sit on the far side of the table. Opal and Pearl seemed to be trying a sort of pincer movement on Toby, but he quickly slid into a seat next to Kate.
I found myself between Toby and Rhys, who had pulled a chair out for me and then took the one next to it.
‘I need to keep an eye on my daughter,’ Rhys told me, and Cariad pulled a face at him across the table.
Noel patted her hand. ‘Cariad has lovely table manners. She’s a credit to the family.’
‘But she’s sometimes a bit short on tact, when it comes to guests,’ Rhys said. ‘Like the time she told one of the summer retreat guests he shouldn’t eat and talk at the same time.’
‘Well, he shouldn’t. It’s disgusting,’ Cariad said.
Thwarted, Pearl and Opal had seated themselves between Noel and Evie and opposite Toby, and were staring hungrily at him, as if he was the first course.
Verity took the remaining seat between Nerys and Rhys and promptly tried to claim his attention, but with a muttered ‘Excuse me!’ he got up and fetched wine from the side table and began filling glasses and distributing them.
‘We don’t go in for starters,’ Nerys announced. ‘Not that I expect you’ll miss them after the canapés with our pre-dinner drinks!’
Tudor, who had followed his wife out, now returned bearing a large tureen.
‘Do you need a hand bringing anything in, Tudor?’ asked Timon.
‘No, it’s fine, thanks,’ he said, setting the tureen down in front of him. ‘If you start to dish out the chicken, I’ll fetch the vegetables.’
‘It’s Bronwen’s famous chicken in white wine tonight,’ Nerys told us, ‘with jacket potatoes and mixed vegetables.’
‘A free-range chicken from the home farm at Castle Newydd, who had a happy life,’ put in Cariad earnestly.
‘It smells delicious!’ said Kate, who was obviously a woman who enjoyed her food – and drink; she’d immediately taken a huge swig of her wine the moment Rhys had filled her glass.
Timon passed the plates while Tudor brought in the vegetables and a vegetarian nut loaf with a small sauce boat for the twins.
As we passed the plates, vegetables and gravy around the table, I think we’d all suddenly realized we were hungry. There was silence for quite some time, apart from the clink of cutlery against china.
By now I’d sort of got past my earlier exhaustion and come out on the other side, and I felt strangely wired, even if everything did seem a bit bright … not to mention that sounds appeared to be reaching me in waves.
Still, as the others began to talk, I managed to follow what they were saying and even put in the odd word or two myself.
The conversation was fairly desultory, however, and I suspected the others were just as tired after their journeys as I was, with the possible exception of Evie, who didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Nerys made a little announcement about the housekeeping arrangements when there was a lull in the conversation, probably the one she gave all the retreat guests on the first night, to remind us that guests were expected to make their own beds and tidy their own rooms – or not, as they wished – but Tudor did the rounds while everyone was at breakfast, replenishing the tea, coffee and milk in the rooms and changing towels, when necessary.
‘A team of cleaners comes in once a week, but they do the guest bedrooms while we are at lunch, so there’s minimal disruption to your work. Other than that, offers to help clear the table or to wash up are usually appreciated but not compulsory!’
She smiled round at us, but I could see Kate was looking affronted, as if she was above such mundane tasks. Or perhaps she hadn’t read the information about the retreat and thought she was coming to some kind of hotel?
‘There’s a little information booklet in your rooms telling you all this and also giving you the times of meals, including any changes over Christmas and Boxing Day,’ Nerys continued.
‘Breakfast is continental style, but let Bronwen know if you’d like a boiled egg, and lunches are help-yourself affairs, set out on the serving table in here between eight and half past in the morning, and twelve and one.
There will also be coffee and cake at half past three, for anyone who feels in need of a bit of company. Dinner is usually at seven.’
‘That all sounds admirable,’ Evie said. ‘And if the rest of the catering is as delicious as that chicken dish, there won’t be any complaints.’
The twins, who had toyed with the tiniest of portions of nut roast and shared the smallest baked potato, said nothing. I still thought they’d rather have made a meal of Toby.
‘Other than mealtimes, you are of course entirely free to occupy yourselves in any way you wish, working in your rooms or elsewhere,’ Timon said.
‘I’ll give anyone who wants one a tour of the public rooms of the house in the morning, right after breakfast. Besides the sitting room you have already seen, there is a small TV room off it, and also the library,’ Nerys said.
‘The information in your room also tells you about the Winter Solstice ceremony tomorrow, as well as the one held on Twelfth Night, the last night of the retreat, and guests are very welcome to take part in both,’ said Timon. ‘Uncle Noel will tell you all about them in his after-dinner talk.’
Noel made a little bow.
‘And finally,’ said Timon, ‘if anyone would like a tour of the pottery tomorrow, do come down at about eleven. It’s only a few yards along the lane, and you can cut through the shrubbery if you turn left when you come out of the front door and go through the arch in the wall on that side.’
‘There is much of interest to explore around Seren Bach,’ Noel said.
‘But a word of warning: the village stands on a small promontory with just a narrow neck of land to connect us to St Melangell, and the coastline is edged with cliffs. Do stick to the coastal path if you venture there, because there is only a wire fence to keep you and the sheep from going over.’
‘There is one place you can get down, Uncle Noel,’ said Cariad. ‘But I’m not allowed to go there on my own.’
‘There’s only a tiny crescent of pebbles down there anyway,’ said Rhys. ‘You can’t get far enough from the bottom of the path to get cut off by the sea, but it is a steep climb back up.’
‘I can’t stand heights,’ said Verity. She seemed to be the slowest eater in the world, and Tudor had already popped his head in twice to see if we had all finished. ‘Do you remember the first time I visited Triskelion, Rhys, and absolutely froze on the path down?’
Toby, on my other side, seemed to be evading a sudden spate of questions from the twins about his new book. He was wearing that hunted fawn expression again.
‘I don’t suppose you like talking about the work in progress. Most authors don’t, even to their editors!’ I said sympathetically, and he turned to me gratefully.
‘You’re right. I don’t want to sound precious, but if you share your ideas too soon, the magic seems to go out of them.’
‘I feel the same, even with my children’s books. I want to hug the ideas to myself as long as possible.’