Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
When Violet and Jenny set off for Stoneyhayes, they found the train from Waterloo was very crowded but luckily they managed to find seats.
It was only when they were off the train and in the station car park that they realised their predicament. The small taxi rank was empty.
‘Of course, it’s Christmas Eve! Everyone travelling from London would have wanted a taxi from the station.’ Jenny was sounding oddly cheerful.
‘Such a shame Daddy had to fetch Kiki’s relations,’ said Violet. ‘He was mortified when he realised he wouldn’t be able to collect us. He did explain why they had to be picked up so late, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was so sure we’d be able to get a cab.’
‘Let’s walk,’ said Jenny. ‘It’s lovely to be here again, and we can get in some exercise before we eat too much Christmas pudding tomorrow.’
‘I admire your determination to sound positive,’ said Violet, ‘but our suitcases weigh a ton. I’ve already lost the feeling in my fingers.’ She paused, holding her hand out. ‘And it’s begun to rain.’
‘What’s the alternative?’ asked Jenny. ‘There isn’t one. Come on. Best foot forward.’
‘You’ve become very hearty since your visit to France,’ said Violet, running a little to catch up with her longer-legged friend.
‘It’s all the good food and wine I consumed while I was staying with Felicity’s family. And the fact that all my Christmas presents came from the market, so they are guaranteed to be nicer than anyone else’s.’
‘As long as men like soap,’ said Violet.
‘I’ll just make sure the men get the manlier fragrances,’ said Jenny. ‘Although I must admit to wondering if That Woman was deliberately vague about who was coming to catch us out with the presents.’
It had been a while since Violet had thought of Kiki as That Woman. ‘I’m sure she was! Who doesn’t know how many guests you have coming at Christmas?’ She paused. ‘Actually, Daddy has been known to invite random friends – academics mostly – who happen to be in England, so maybe it’s his fault no one seems to know who’s going to be there.’
‘Well, if Kiki wants a man with a title, she needs to be adaptable,’ said Jenny.
‘To be fair, I think she has been,’ said Violet. She was a little depressed by the thought that poor Kiki had actually done a very good job of looking after her father, and if she was about to host a brilliant Christmas at Stoneyhayes, she might have to face the possibility that Kiki would become her stepmother, although she wasn’t completely convinced. She didn’t say anything to Jenny, as they were having to walk in single file.
She stopped suddenly, letting go of her heavy case. ‘Actually …’
‘What?’ asked Jenny.
‘Shall we leave the presents in the hedge and collect them really early tomorrow? My arms feel as though they’re about to drop off.’
‘Stop complaining! We’re going home for Christmas, it’ll be lovely! We can speak English, we don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing and being snapped at. Honestly, Violet, you don’t have to live with a difficult man for very long before you realise what a trial it can be.’
‘You weren’t the only one living with him though, were you? I was so glad when you told me that!’
‘Yes, there were other acolytes there, worshipping at his feet – figuratively anyway. That didn’t help much actually. They were just as snappy and competitive.’
Violet didn’t reply, but she was very happy that Jenny was feeling like this. She’d make sure Jenny had a lovely Christmas, no matter what Kiki did. She reflected further that she no longer felt comfortable referring to her – even in her head – as That Woman: whatever Kiki’s shortcomings, she had cared for her father well.
They had just reached the outskirts of the small town and were heading into the countryside when a car pulled up next to them.
A man stuck his head out of the window to talk to them. ‘Excuse me? Is this the right direction for Stoneyhayes? It’s a big house near the village?’
Violet was too taken aback to reply, but Jenny said, ‘Yes. Just carry on down this road until you see a turn-off to the left. And if you’re going there, would there be room in your car for two very wet women with heavy suitcases?’
‘Of course!’ The man pulled into the side of the road and while he rearranged the contents of his car, Violet gave Jenny a searching look. Although she knew people did it, she had never hitchhiked herself. But there were two of them, both fit and youngish, and the fact that he had a very nice, educated voice was somehow reassuring. It also helped that the man was already heading to her home!
‘This is so kind of you,’ said Jenny, settling into the front seat. ‘We’d been hoping to get a taxi from the station.’
‘Very unfortunate not being able to,’ said the man. ‘I gather it’s still a little way to go?’
‘It’s a little way if you’re in a car,’ said Violet, ‘but long if you’re walking.’ She decided to sit behind him in the back, ready to strangle him from behind should the need arise.
‘I’m Henry Halford, by the way,’ said the man.
‘I’m Jenny Masters and this is Violet, daughter of Lord Marchfont, owner of Stoneyhayes.’
‘How delightful to meet you,’ he said, turning quickly before starting the engine.
‘Very delightful for us,’ said Jenny. ‘The weather is getting worse and our cases were getting heavier.’
‘They do do that,’ Henry agreed.
‘I feel I should know you,’ said Violet, feeling put out for some reason.
Henry didn’t reply immediately. ‘I’ve known your father for many years but we mostly seem to meet up on ancient burial sites or some such. I haven’t been back in England for any length of time as I’ve been working abroad. I was delighted when Aubrey invited me for Christmas although it was all rather last minute.’
‘My father does have a lot of academic friends I’ve never met,’ said Violet.
‘Well, apparently I’m one of them.’
‘Also, Daddy is inclined to invite anyone he thinks might be on their own at Christmas,’ Violet said, almost to herself.
The rest of the journey was carried out in silence. Violet was wondering what this last-minute invitee of her father’s would be like as a guest. Her much loved papa was friends with some strange people.
The big front door was opened by a harassed woman Violet didn’t instantly recognise. Then she realised it was Mrs Driver, the housekeeper she had known all her life, only she was currently wearing a black dress with a white collar, instead of her comfortable wrap-around pinafore.
As Violet stepped into the house, she had a few moments to take in the enormous Christmas tree, lavishly decorated with tinsel and large coloured lights. She noticed that none of the decorations that had been on the tree since childhood were there.
‘Oh, Violet!’ Mrs Driver said. ‘Miss Violet, I suppose I should say—’
‘No need to rub in my single status,’ said Violet, hugging her. ‘How are you, Mrs Driver?’
Mrs Driver pursed her lips, looking anxious. ‘Well, I’ve got a roomful of guests in the sitting room – sorry, drawing room – who haven’t had sip nor sup and I’ve got Her in the kitchen fretting over her fish pie as if it were a newborn baby, and Mr Aubrey – Lord Marchfont, I should say – still not back with Her relations—’
Violet felt instantly guilty for not coming home earlier. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to cope with all this. But we’re here now. If you just tell us where Jenny’s sleeping—’
‘She’s put you in together! As if you were mere girls!’
‘I’m happy to be a mere girl, Mrs D,’ said Jenny, also giving the older woman a hug.
‘And I’m more than happy to pour drinks for you, Mrs Driver,’ said Henry, who’d been watching the three woman reunite in front of him.
Violet turned to him. ‘Mrs Driver has looked after us forever. Without her, the house would come crashing about our ears.’
Mrs Driver blushed and laughed, looking a lot more cheerful. ‘I’ve got my granddaughter coming later to help with service and the clearing up.’
‘This is Henry …’
‘Halford,’ he supplied. ‘I’m an old friend of Lord Marchfont.’
‘You don’t look old enough to be an old friend, if I may say so,’ said Mrs Driver.
‘Well, he was a tutor of mine at one time,’ Henry explained. ‘So while we’re not the same age, we’ve known each other a long time.’
‘I’m going to take Jenny upstairs,’ said Violet. ‘We’ll be down to help in a tick.’
‘Can you manage your cases?’ asked Henry, who had somehow brought them in from the car without Violet noticing.
‘Yes, thank you. You can help Mrs D, if you don’t mind. Oh – where are the dogs?’
‘They’re in the stable,’ said Mrs Driver, ‘but it’s very cosy in there and they’ll be allowed in tomorrow after lunch. They’ve had a very good walk.’
‘Henry’s jolly nice,’ said Jenny, once they were upstairs in Violet’s old bedroom.
‘I’m so sorry Kiki has put us in the same room,’ said Violet. ‘We’re not children.’
‘I’ve slept in worse!’ Jenny laughed. ‘Seriously, I do think Henry’s a bit of a brick. He offered to help Mrs D instantly. I like that in a man.’
Violet sat on her bed, watching Jenny unpack and start to get ready. She was tall and slender and was putting her long dark hair into a chignon with practised hands. She added some long earrings and a piece of black velvet ribbon round her neck. Suddenly the jolly, outdoorsy companion Violet had always known had turned into an elegant woman. She reflected that you always thought of people staying the way they were when you first met them. Although she realised that Jenny now, who was quite beautiful, was just as nice as the friendly older girl she had been when they were both children.
‘Violet?’ Jenny’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Why aren’t you making yourself presentable?’
‘I take it that means I won’t do as I am,’ said Violet with a reluctant smile.
‘You won’t. Brush your hair and put on your pretty dress. A bit of mascara wouldn’t hurt either. Any you had on earlier has since been washed off by the rain, along with your eye-liner.’
Violet eyed her suspiciously. ‘Why are you suggesting I make such an effort? Do you think I should be making advances towards Henry? It’s not worth it. He’s bound to be going back to Crete or somewhere they’re investigating an ancient civilisation immediately after Christmas.’
Jenny shrugged. ‘He’s probably the only decent man here. Although you’re quite likely right about him disappearing somewhere exotic after the holidays, you should look nice for him anyway.’
‘I feel bad not coming down here yesterday and being here to help,’ said Violet, scrubbing her mascara brush on its block before applying it.
‘I thought Kiki said we shouldn’t come until today?’
‘She did, but I should have ignored her.’
‘We’re here now,’ said Jenny. A moment later she regarded them both in the mirror. ‘We do look like London girls, don’t we? You’ve got an excuse, you really are one. But I’m a farmer from rural France really.’
Violet laughed. ‘Not any more. Now, are you ready? Let’s see what disaster awaits us.’
They found Kiki in the kitchen anxiously mashing potatoes. Violet felt another sudden wave of sympathy for her. She recognised that this woman was suddenly worried about what lay ahead: she was arranging Christmas for a minor lord and his friends and relations, not to mention her own. It would be a test of her ability.
‘Hello, Kiki!’ said Violet, sounding as confident and friendly as she could. ‘Let me introduce you to Jenny? She’s a very old friend and we’re here to help you as much as possible.’
‘I’ve heard a lot about you, Jenny,’ Kiki said without enthusiasm. ‘And I’m sure I’ll manage perfectly well—’
‘When are you planning to serve that delicious-looking pie?’ went on Violet. ‘Did you make that puff pastry yourself?’
‘Of course!’ said Kiki, indignant now. ‘And I thought we’d eat when your father gets back.’
‘Do we know when that might be?’ asked Jenny.
Kiki appeared to do a lot of calculations in her head before saying, ‘Not really, no.’
‘Perhaps you should come with us into the drawing room and have a drink with the guests who have already arrived?’ suggested Violet. ‘I know I could do with a warming glass of sherry after our cold train journey.’
‘I shouldn’t leave the kitchen—’ Kiki objected.
‘You should. Everything is ready. Take off your apron and come and sit down and have a drink,’ said Violet firmly.
It took a bit more persuasion to lure Kiki out of the kitchen where she obviously felt safe, but eventually, all three moved into the drawing room.
There they met a cheerful scene. The fire was going well, and the four people who were there, apart from Henry, all seemed to be getting on like old friends who were pleased to see each other. Henry was over by the grand piano, looking through piles of music. It transpired that he had made some sort of punch which filled the silver punch bowl. It had clearly gone straight to everyone’s heads.
‘I never travel at Christmas without the makings of a good whisky punch,’ he confided to Violet when he’d come away from the piano. ‘I even bring an old-fashioned spirit stove so I can make it anywhere. But I braved the kitchen to make this while you were getting ready.’ He handed a glass to Kiki and then to Jenny and Violet.
Violet sipped hers. She thought it was the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. Hot, strong and lemony, it instantly made her feel warm and relaxed. She really hoped it would have the same effect on Kiki.
One thing was certain, unless there was food fairly soon, everyone would be roaring drunk. Violet spotted a bowl of cheese footballs – her father’s favourite – and handed them round.
Kiki, either struck dumb by strong drink or sudden shyness, didn’t introduce anyone, so Violet took over.
‘I’m Violet, Aubrey’s daughter, and this is Jenny, an old friend of the family.’
Fortunately, at this point Kiki remembered her duties as a hostess and performed the rest of the introductions. Violet noted there was a Susan, a Marilyn, an Eric and a George. She wasn’t quite sure who was married to whom and if they were all related but at least she knew their names.
‘Are there more eats in the kitchen?’ Violet knew she wouldn’t be able to persuade Kiki to serve the fish pie until her father appeared. ‘I’ll go and look.’
On the way she looked into the dining room. The huge table had a cloth on it but nothing else. Setting a table wasn’t the work of a moment but at least she knew where everything was. There were also candelabras to go on the table and cutlery on the sideboard.
She found some of the tiny cheese-flavoured biscuits she and her father liked so much and returned to the dining room. She no longer had time to worry about people getting drunk, she had to get the knives and forks out.
She had just retrieved the canteen of cutlery from the sideboard when Henry came in.
‘Need a hand? How many people are we laying for?’
‘I’m not quite sure how many people my father is collecting but I think there’ll be about ten of us.’
‘Would you like me to find out what I can from Kiki?’
Before Violet could answer, Henry was gone.
He was back very quickly. ‘You were nearly right about the number, there are going to be eleven of us and Aubrey is due any minute. He’s bringing two of Kiki’s sisters with him and Kiki has agreed to serve dinner as soon as everyone is here.’
‘Well done, and thank you!’ Violet smiled at Henry warmly.
‘My pleasure. Now, where will I find glasses?’
Between them, they soon had the table laid and Violet was just lighting the candles (old ones, but no one would know once they were lit), when they heard voices in the hall.
Violet threw down the box of matches and ran out. ‘Daddy! Happy Christmas! You’re here at last!’