Chapter 15
Rose had been told by Alastair in no uncertain terms to take the following day off except for keeping an eye on the continued construction of the marquee. But she had other ideas.
Alastair was going to be in his offices and Fiona and Paul were planning to take the children ice-skating in Edinburgh after hearing how much fun Rose and Alastair had had at the rink. Aunt Helena was travelling with them, but was going to visit an art exhibition near the castle and meet them for lunch afterwards. They’d invited Rose but she’d declined; her bruises from Tuesday were still healing.
Rose’s head was full of plans while she sketched in the drawing room after breakfast. It was fun having so many people in the house, but she wasn’t used to a big, busy household and she was relishing the quiet. She’d barely been able to hear herself think while she sipped her morning coffee and munched on crumpets with everyone earlier. She couldn’t help but compare it to how things would be if she was still in London. She hadn’t planned on seeing anyone over Christmas, though she’d sent some cards to friends.
Fiona came in after a little while, the ice-skating party not yet having departed.
“Sorry to disturb you,” she said, with a smile. “I’m just gathering everything together and am looking for my book. I think I left it in here . . .”
“Is this it?” Rose asked, handing her a thick paperback which had been on the arm of the chair she was in.
“It is, thank you!”
“No problem,” said Rose. She saw Fiona glance down at her sketch-pad and had to refrain from closing it.
“Where did you learn how to do that?” Fiona asked. “I love it.”
Rose felt her cheeks turn red. “I went to the Slade School of Fine Art. In London.”
“I know where the Slade is,” Fiona said, with a laugh. “I would have loved to have studied there, but, alas, I have no artistic talent. I went to UCL and did a degree in History of Art. I had lots of friends from the art school. What did you study?”
“Wow, what a coincidence. I got a master’s ― Fine Art.”
“And then . . .”
“And then I had a boyfriend who convinced me that a career in art would be far too volatile and I’d end up starving in a garret somewhere, and so I accepted a job in events management.”
“That’s a big leap.”
“It’s something I did during holidays at uni anyway so I knew what I was doing and I got to be creative,” Rose continued. “And I didn’t hate it, but it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to do for the rest of my life.”
“So what do you want to do? Now?” asked Fiona, sitting down in the chair next to Rose’s.
“In my wildest dreams? I want to be an artist,” admitted Rose. “But . . . so few people get to make a living doing that.”
Fiona nodded. “It’s certainly not the easy option.”
Rose sighed. “Anyway, I gave up working on events when my mum got sick so I could look after her. She died last Christmas and I’ve flitted between rubbish zero-hours, minimum wage jobs ever since.”
“Oh, Rose, I’m so sorry,” said Fiona.
“Thank you.” Rose smiled sadly. “I wasn’t able to draw once Mum had gone. She had always supported me and . . . without her . . . it didn’t seem right.” Rose took a deep breath. “But it feels really good to be spending some time on it again. To be experiencing that flow state where I lose track of time completely, consumed by what I’m creating. I’d begun to think I might never get that back.”
“I’m happy for you,” Fiona said. “I’m sure your mum would want you to continue with your passion. Especially as you clearly have a talent for it.”
Rose wondered whether Fiona was aware of her growing discomfort talking about her mum because Fiona put her hand on Rose’s and said, “I’ll let you get back to your drawing,” and left, presumably to get the ice skaters on the road.
Rose couldn’t help feeling a little thrill as she returned to her sketching — did Fiona really think she had talent?
* * *
As soon as the family were all out of the house, Rose put aside her drawing and let Mrs Reed in on her plan.
“I want to go into the attic and see if I can find some of the Christmas things from when Alastair and Fiona were little. The house looks gorgeous, but it’s not as they remember it from Christmas and they think there might be some old decorations from their childhood up there.”
“I can’t imagine they would have been thrown out,” confirmed Mrs Reed. “That attic hasn’t had a sort through in donkey’s years; it’s full of all sorts. That’s a lovely idea. I can come and help you search now if you like.”
Going up into the attic, they were first greeted by all the extra chairs, neatly stacked up, that they’d used for the employee party the weekend before. The space was huge and Rose’s heart sank as she wondered how they were ever going to be able to find boxes of Christmas decorations among all this stuff. Thankfully she had Mrs Reed with her who seemed to know the attic like the back of her hand. She walked confidently over to one corner and a moment later held up the top of a Christmas tree triumphantly.
They carried bits of tree and the boxes of ornaments downstairs and put them in the sitting room.
“I didn’t decorate in this room because the theme I’d gone for didn’t seem to fit it,” Rose told Mrs Reed. “It was too fancy for this family space which wasn’t going to be used for any events. What I want is to make this room like it was when Alastair and Fiona were little. I thought I could put the tree together and then everyone can decorate it this evening.”
“It’s a lovely idea.”
“Thank you so much for helping me find them. I would have been up there for hours by myself.”
“I enjoyed it, and it’ll be wonderful to see all the old decorations out again. I’d better get back to work now though,” said Mrs Reed.
“Why don’t I make you a cuppa to say thank you?” said Rose.
“Now that would be lovely.”
Rose made a pot of Mrs Reed’s favourite Earl Grey tea for them to share, knowing the housekeeper would approve of her doing things properly, and took her own cup into the sitting room. The dogs followed Rose and immediately lay down in front of the fire which was merrily crackling in the hearth. It made her smile how much they loved their warm spots and how lazy the dogs were in the house.
Rose began by putting the Christmas tree together. It was a decent quality one and, despite its age, looked good by the time she’d fiddled with it and fanned out the branches.
She opened up the other boxes and found strings of fairy lights. She crossed her fingers as she plugged them in to test them and, amazingly, there was only one string of them with a couple of non-working bulbs, which she could just hide behind the back of the tree.
She set to work winding the lights around the tree, making sure they were evenly spaced out. She wanted the family to be able to decorate the tree themselves, but everyone knows there’s nothing worse than waiting for the lights to be put on when all you want to do is get started hanging the baubles. She turned the lights on and stood back to admire her work. A little bit of fiddling and she was happy.
Another box was full of tinsel and Christmas card holders which Rose put up around the room. She found a skirt for the Christmas tree in another box along with candles which she placed on the mantelpiece.
She carried anything they’d be able to use for Christmas lunch, like napkins and a tablecloth and table runner, into the dining room.
Another box was full of DVDs of Christmas movies so she moved that close to the television. She pulled out a couple, smiling when she saw Home Alone , a firm favourite of hers, and spotted some CDs underneath. Her smile turned to a grin when she saw one of them was the legendary Max Bygraves.
“Would you like some lunch?” Mrs Reed said coming into the room. “Oh, it looks wonderful!”
“Thank you, and I would love lunch. Does everything in here look right? I mean like it used to?”
“There are a few things that are different. The cards used to hang over by the window there, I think.”
“Have you got a few minutes to help me get it like it used to be at Christmas?” asked Rose.
“As long as you don’t mind just having sandwiches for lunch,” said Mrs Reed, smiling as she looked around the room.
Rose left Mrs Reed to work, pleased that she’d accepted her suggestion. She hadn’t wanted Mrs Reed to feel that she was being watched as she moved things around to how they used to be placed.
Mrs Reed joined Rose in the kitchen a few minutes later.
“You’ve done a lovely thing in there,” Mrs Reed said, not looking at Rose.
“Is something wrong?” Rose asked, noticing tears forming in Mrs Reed’s eyes.
“I’m fine. It was just such a thoughtful thing for you to do and it reminded me of when Mr Duncan and his sister were little and their dear parents were still alive.”
“You don’t think it will upset anyone, do you?” asked Rose, suddenly worried.
“No, dear. I think it will bring back happy memories,” reassured Mrs Reed.
* * *
When Fiona, Paul and the children returned home, they found the sitting room closed and a sign on it instructing: Do Not Enter .
“What’s going on?” asked Isla.
“Just a little surprise for when your dad gets home,” Rose said, mysteriously.
“Can I have a tiny peep now?” Isla begged.
“Nope, not before your dad.”
* * *
Poor Alastair was bombarded by his whole family as soon as he stepped in the door.
“Thank goodness you’re here!” cried Isla, dramatically.
“Is everything all right?” he asked. “What’s happened?”
“Everything’s fine,” reassured Rose.
“Rose has set up some sort of surprise in the sitting room,” Aunt Helena explained. “And we haven’t been able to see what it is until you came home.”
“Oh,” said Alastair. “Can I at least take off my shoes and get changed before we see it?”
“No,” said everyone simultaneously.
“Fine.” He sighed. “Can we go in there now?” he asked Rose.
“You can,” she confirmed with a little nod. “I’ll join you in a minute.” She suddenly felt embarrassed. What if she’d completely miscalculated and they all hated it? What if it upset people? She hadn’t thought this through.
The family rushed out of the hall and towards the sitting room, Alastair glancing over his shoulder at Rose, a quizzical look on his face.
Rose went into the kitchen. Mrs Reed was making hot chocolates for everyone complete with a big bowl of marshmallows, chocolate flakes and cans of squirty cream.
“Aren’t you going in with them?” she asked.
Rose shook her head. “I thought I’d give them a minute.”
The sound of running feet soon reached them though and Isla came bursting into the kitchen followed by the twins. “Oh my goodness, Rose, it’s amazing! Dad says you have to come and join us!”
Rose laughed. “I’m glad you liked it. Help me carry these things and I’ll come through.”
“Hot chocolate!” exclaimed James.
“You have to drink hot chocolate while you’re decorating the Christmas tree,” explained Rose. “Mrs Reed, you’ll come as well, won’t you?”
“Of course I will,” she said, removing her apron.
The twins ran back to the sitting room armed with the marshmallows and squirty cream and Rose, Mrs Reed and Isla followed them rather more sedately with the drinks.
“This is just wonderful, Rose,” said Fiona, accepting a hot chocolate. “Thank you so much! It’s exactly like how Mum used to decorate it.”
“Mrs Reed was a great help,” said Rose.
“You’re a wonder, Mrs Reed,” said Fiona, surprising the housekeeper with a hug.
“Oh, it was nothing,” Mrs Reed said, looking flustered. “It’s nice to see the old treasures being used again.”
“Are you lot going to start decorating that tree then?” said Rose, noticing the twins impatient glances at the boxes of decorations.
“Absolutely,” said Fiona. “Kids, you get stuck in. I’m going to enjoy my hot chocolate and watch you do all the work.”
“One final thing,” said Rose, picking up the Blu-ray player remote. She pressed play and Max Bygraves began to play.
“Oh my goodness!” said Fiona, turning to her brother. Alastair put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
“I’d hoped that CD had been destroyed years ago,” muttered Aunt Helena from the armchair she’d made herself comfortable in.
“Don’t be such a grump, Auntie,” said Fiona. “It’s traditional.”
Rose looked at Alastair; he’d been conspicuous in his silence. His eyes met hers and she felt heat fill her body. She held out the tray she was carrying and he accepted a drink. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For the tree and . . .”
“You need marshmallows in that, Uncle Alastair!” said James, interrupting the moment and causing Alastair to break eye contact as he bent down to allow his nephew to add marshmallows to his drink.
* * *
“It looks brilliant,” declared Isla, standing back to admire the tree.
“It does,” agreed Mrs Reed.
“I love my own tree and the fancy one in the entrance hall as well,” Isla said, “They’re beautiful, but this is a proper family tree.”
“I agree,” said Fiona, hugging her niece.
“What have we got for the top?” asked Isla, looking around.
“Here,” said Mrs Reed. “Will this do?” She handed Isla a glittery star.
“It’s a bit small . . .” said Isla.
“We just used to put random things on there when we were little,” Fiona said. “Your dad was so cross one year because your granny let me put my Malibu Barbie on top and he thought it looked stupid.”
“I remember that,” said Alastair, with a grin. “And I maintain that it did look stupid.”
Fiona stuck her tongue out at her brother making the children laugh.
“What did you have on your Christmas tree when you were little?” Isla asked Rose.
“We had a fairy,” Rose said. “She was absolutely beautiful, with a china face, golden hair and delicate silver wings. She used to belong to my grandma who was given her when she was a child. My mum was always so worried she’d get broken and I had to be so careful when I put her on the tree and when we packed her away again after Christmas.”
“Do you still have her?” asked Fiona.
“No,” Rose said, with a sad smile. “She was lost. My mum got sick and had to move into a hospice and, somehow, our fairy got misplaced when the Christmas tree I’d brought in to decorate her room was taken down and packed away.”
“Oh no,” said Isla.
“We’re so sorry about your mum,” Fiona said.
“Thank you,” said Rose. “It was . . . a pretty terrible time, but back to this glorious tree! What are we going to do about the top?”
“Let’s put the star on there for now and maybe we can think of something better later,” suggested Paul.
“You okay with that, guys?” Isla asked her cousins and when they nodded in agreement, Isla placed the star proudly on top of the tree.
It had taken the children an hour to make sure every decoration was in exactly the right spot while the adults exclaimed over forgotten treasures like the bauble with a Christmas pig on that Alastair had made at school when he was about six.
Mrs Reed happily stayed until the last bauble was placed. “What a lovely start to my Christmas break,” she said as she was preparing to leave with the twins hanging off her.
“You’ve been an absolute breath of fresh air around her,” she whispered to Rose as she hugged her goodbye.
Rose fought back tears. If it was this hard saying farewell to Mrs Reed, how much worse was it going to be with Isla? Her mind went to never seeing Alastair again and she quickly focused on going to get Mrs Reed’s present. She hoped she liked the watch she and Alastair had taken an age choosing for her in Edinburgh.
After Mrs Reed left, it was decided that Rose and Alastair would finish up making supper while Fiona and Paul took the twins upstairs for an early bath and Aunt Helena and Isla started a jigsaw puzzle together in the library.
Once everyone else had left the sitting room, leaving Rose and Alastair collecting up empty mugs, Alastair put his hand on Rose’s as she was about to walk out of the room with a full tray.
“Thank you,” he said. “This was so thoughtful and it means a lot.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she said with a smile.
“I love it. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks to you, I think I’m actually kind of looking forward to Christmas.”
“That’s brilliant,” Rose said, though the thought of Christmas itself and the fact that she would be by herself and hundreds of miles away from this house and the people in it made her feel suddenly sad. At least she was helping towards making this family’s Christmas a good one. She tried to cover her sadness with a grin before Alastair noticed her mood.
Alastair still had his hand on hers. She looked down at it and he quickly moved his hand away. “Let’s get this food cooked so we can start a Christmas film before it gets too late for the twins,” Rose said, cheerfully. Her hand now felt cold and somehow lacking.