Chapter Thirty-nine
Lara was tucking serviettes into wine glasses when Flynn walked into the Castle Café. He wore black jeans and a red jumper with ‘Ho Ho Ho’ on it and made a beeline for her.
‘Hello. Happy Christmas. Can I help?’
She handed him the packet of serviettes, thinking that he looked good enough to eat. ‘Happy Christmas. Make those look pretty?’
He grimaced. ‘Can I do something easier?’
She smiled despite the tension in her body. ‘Not unless you want to peel potatoes with Mrs Danvers. She’s very particular about how they’re prepared.’
‘Mrs Danvers?’ Flynn’s brow furrowed in confusion.
Lara smirked. ‘Jazz and I call Rebecca Mrs Danvers. Because she rules the castle with a rod of iron and can be a bit scary.’
‘Er … sorry …’ Flynn was nonplussed.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Lara said, handing him another wad of serviettes. All the light banter was their way of dancing around each other, trying to defuse the tension.
‘I think I’ll pass on Mrs Danvers. I’ll do my best to be artistic instead.’
‘Good decision. To be honest, everything seems under control in the kitchen and I’m not going to interfere with Mrs D – Rebecca – in charge.’
‘Hmm.’ Flynn folded a serviette, frowned and re-folded it. ‘Fluffing hell.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Nothing,’ he said and stood back. ‘You look lovely.’
Lara was in her crimson velvet dress and a tinsel headband. ‘Thanks,’ she said, and nodded at his chest, where the ‘Ho Ho Ho’ was stretched across his pecs. ‘Nice jumper.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I thought I ought to enter the festive spirit. And I don’t want to get a reputation as a party pooper.’
‘Why ever would anyone think that?’
‘Because I’ve been cracking the whip since I got here. This is my one chance to show I’m a nice, harmless, normal human being.’
‘I don’t think you’ll ever achieve that.’ She took the crumpled serviette from his hand, folded it and popped it into a glass. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Yes, please. No alcohol obviously, because I’m riding later. Though I’d like a large whisky, to be honest. I just told my parents about Molly and Esme.’
‘Wow,’ Lara said. ‘How did they take it?’
‘They were stunned. Shocked. Mum cried and Dad kept saying “bloody hell”.’ They both think they’re far too young to be great-grandparents and are desperate to know more and meet Molly and Esme.
’ He blew out a breath. ‘I was on the phone for an hour, trying to tell them that Imogen didn’t even know yet, so they’d have to keep everything to themselves for now. ’
‘I bet. But Molly will tell Imogen when she comes home after Christmas?’
‘Yes, she’s promised she will. Now I need to try and unwind for a few hours. Have you got anything remotely festive with no booze in it so I can pretend I’m getting pissed when I’m not?’
Lara laughed. ‘I think we have some zero beer and gallons of elderflower fizz. The bar’s over here.’
Flynn found a beer and Lara decided that, at half-past eleven on Christmas morning, it was allowable to have a small glass of Prosecco, though she intended to pace herself.
She’d learned from bitter experience that, with free booze on tap and a long day ahead without family looking over their shoulders, some of her work colleagues did have a tendency to get plastered.
Though it was tempting to drink the free bar dry, Lara knew there was always the possibility she might have to turn peacemaker or help someone back to their accommodation – not to mention that last year one of the gardening team had set fire to the kitchen bin.
They’d narrowly avoided a call-out from the fire service.
Most of all, she wanted to be in full control of anything she might say to Flynn. He must be in turmoil after breaking the news to his parents, and even Lara had found her video call with her own family to be way more emotional than she’d expected.
For now, she threw herself into the celebrations and one glass of fizz led to several others.
After everyone had mucked in with preparing and serving lunch, Flynn proved a dab hand at carving and they ate enough to be fit to burst. Once she’d got over the oddity of sharing Christmas dinner with people she worked with every day, Lara found herself relaxing.
She had to hand it to Flynn – he was clearly keen to join in.
People were talking about missing family and Rebecca piped up from the head of the table.
‘I always volunteer to work over Christmas,’ she stated. ‘I can’t stand the forced jollity and my mum insists on having my aunt and cousins round. They’re total snobs and the kids are feral.’ She grinned. ‘Can someone pass the roast potatoes? And I wouldn’t mind some extra gravy.’
They’d just finished forcing pudding down themselves when someone suggested playing games.
Lara, two of the gardeners, the deputy housekeeper, and a finance officer called Troy, who she’d only ever spoken to once, actually had a lot of fun.
They had a ‘reveal one silly fact’ about yourself, which had resulted in Troy revealing he used to work in a circus.
He then fetched a unicycle from his cottage and rode it round the courtyard to prove it.
Rebecca had had a go and fallen off, but fortunately it was into a hay bale.
One of the apprentices revealed he’d once played for the Man United youth team, and the deputy head gardener, a burly guy with a shaven head and bushy beard, confessed that he’d once reached the final stage auditions of Britain’s Got Talent.
He was then persuaded to sing ‘Have Yourself a Very Merry Christmas’.
People’s eyes were still suspiciously moist after his performance when Mrs Danvers was thrust into the spotlight.
She leaned back in her chair. ‘Well, when I was working at a – let’s say a very famous and historic palace in the south-east – I once caught a cabinet minister doing something very naughty with his permanent private secretary in the linen storeroom.’
‘Oh!’
‘What?’
‘Who?’
The others bombarded her with questions.
‘I can’t possibly say, but it involved, according to what I overheard through the door, hiding the – hic – sausage.’
Laughter erupted and Flynn joined in.
‘What about you, Flynn? What’s the thing we don’t know about you?’
‘Could be anything!’ Mrs D declared. ‘He’s only been here two months.’
‘OK. OK. I once did something really stupid. I had to be rescued by the RNLI after I jumped into the sea off a cliff for a dare. I hit the water at a funny angle, except it wasn’t funny. It was like hitting concrete and I passed out.’
Lara stared at him in horror.
‘Silly boy,’ Rebecca muttered. ‘Hic.’
‘Yeah, it was stupid. Lucky for me, some guy in a kayak got to me and the RNLI fished me out. I was OK after a night in hospital, but Mum and Dad went mad and grounded me for the rest of the school holidays. I learned my lesson.’
‘So you went out and got a motorbike instead?’ Lara commented.
‘I was eighteen by then. They couldn’t stop me.’ He grinned. ‘I was a bit of a rebel but I’m very sensible now.’
‘Of course,’ Lara said. ‘You’d never do anything risky now.’
‘It all sounds extremely reckless,’ Mrs Danvers said, before sloshing more fizz into her glass. ‘And rather wonderful. Your turn, Lara.’
‘Oh no. You know everything about me.’
‘No, we don’t, you play your cards very close to your chest,’ said Mrs Danvers. ‘You must have seen a lot in your career. I bet you’re keeping loads of secrets.’
She thought of the chalice and tried not to catch Flynn’s eye. So many secrets, none of which she would ever reveal to her colleagues.
‘My secret is that my boss once tried to persuade me to break up with an old flame for him because he was too cowardly to do it.’
‘Urgh!’
‘What a pig.’
‘How were you to do this evil deed?’ Mrs Danvers asked. ‘In person or on the phone?’
‘Neither. He wanted me to compose an email to her, as if the message had come from him. He said I’d be a lot more sensitive and tactful about it than he would.’
She should have known then that Rob was a bastard, Lara thought, but she hadn’t known him long and he’d sold her some story about the woman turning into a stalker.
‘I didn’t do it,’ Lara insisted. ‘I refused, so he had to write her a letter instead.’
‘What a creep,’ Flynn murmured.
‘Well, it’s clear there are some total shits about.’ Mrs Danvers waggled her glass. ‘Is there any more Prosecco about? If their lordships are paying, I feel it’s our duty as their vassals to drink it.’
It was half past two when Flynn took Lara aside in a quiet corner near the rear door of the café. ‘Lara … I hate to do this, but I have to bail out or I’ll never make it to Molly’s. I’ve really enjoyed myself.’
‘Against your expectations?’ she said archly.
‘Maybe,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’m sorry to leave you.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I’ll be fine.’ There was an edge to Lara’s voice that she couldn’t suppress. ‘And you’ll enjoy being with Molly and Esme on Christmas Day.’
‘Will I? Molly’s excited and Esme is a delight, but Brenda’s none too sure about me. I think she’s finding having a man around quite a struggle. They have their own family traditions and I don’t want to upset them.’
‘It can’t be easy for anyone. But you’ll make new traditions. Together,’ she added cheerfully, hiding her disappointment at him leaving.
‘Are you staying over at Molly’s tonight?’
‘No. I think that would be a bit much for all of us. We’re all still taking baby steps. Literally.’
‘And Imogen?’ Lara asked.
‘Molly’s promised to tell her tomorrow on FaceTime.’ He grimaced. ‘If she doesn’t, Brenda will. And what about you? How will you spend the rest of the day?’
‘Join the Wallace and Gromit watch party. Eat my own weight in chocolate truffles. Make sure no one falls in the fountains.’
He laughed. ‘I hope not.’ His smile melted away. ‘I wish …’ he said, with an expression of longing that made Lara’s resolve wobble.
‘Don’t wish. Never wish.’
‘You’re probably right.’ He gazed upwards in frustration. ‘But this is tearing me in two, Lara.’
‘I don’t want to be the reason for ripping anything apart. This is a special time for you and for Molly. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything other than give your whole self to it. You’ll regret it if you don’t, I promise.’
‘I know, but …’ There was such tenderness in his voice and eyes – such longing and gratitude that Lara almost threw her arms around him.
He glanced upwards. ‘How ironic,’ he murmured, ‘that we’re standing under the mistletoe.’
‘Some mistletoe,’ she qualified, as her heart pitter-pattered. ‘There’s mistletoe all over the castle.’
With him so temptingly close on a day when people were meant to come together, she was struggling. It would be so easy to imagine his hands cradling her face and those warm lips pressed against hers.
She instinctively stepped back. ‘And it wouldn’t be a good idea to use it.’
He closed his eyes and subsided into a silent sigh. ‘I’m sure you’re right. It would be a very bad idea. And I really must go.’ He glanced up at the mistletoe again, then back at Lara before leaning in to press his lips against her cheek. ‘Happy Christmas, Lara.’
‘Happy Christmas, Flynn,’ she said, as her heart hollowed out. ‘Wish the family a good one, from me.’
‘I will.’
He walked away and, the moment he was out of sight, Lara lifted her hand to her cheek, feeling – imagining – that the skin was still warm from his kiss.
It had been the innocent kiss of a friend, yet Flynn could never be her friend. In that moment she realised she could not stay and work and live with him here as her friend.
She closed the door, readjusted her tinsel headband, and went back inside to join the party.