Chapter 34
‘Ah, just in time, Elizabeth. Yes, I do need your assistance, please ring the bell and summon everyone to the table,’ said Frank, dropping the hot Yorkshire puddings onto each plate.
He had asbestos hands after years in the job.
The chef that worked in his dad’s pub once told him that he’d need to have those to be a proper pro in a kitchen.
Elizabeth rang the bell and everyone gravitated to the table: Roo from her cabin, Vincent from the lounge, Grace and a newly awoken Jane from the bar. Henry was already in ‘Old Tom’, pouring out champagne.
Roo had put three of the Christingles with replaced candles between the candelabras and lit them all with some matches.
‘Does it matter where we sit?’ she asked when she’d finished.
‘Just park your arse on the nearest chair and get this down your neck before it gets cold,’ said Frank with mock impatience.
‘I don’t need telling twice. I’m starving,’ she said, sitting down quickly on the end opposite Henry. She inhaled the dinner in front of her and purred aloud. She also noted the enormous amount of sprouts that Frank had piled next to her slices of turkey.
‘I wouldn’t want to be spending the night in your cabin,’ said Vincent, leaning forward to talk to her from the other end of the table.
‘That’s lucky. You’ve got about as much chance of that as me headlining in Las Vegas,’ she threw back.
Vincent pinched his nose. ‘Elizabeth, you have my sympathies.’
Elizabeth smiled at him, bashfully though, just a flick of eye contact. He knew she’d felt it too, that moment back there in the lounge. If she hadn’t moved away when she did, he couldn’t tell what might have happened. He wished she hadn’t and it had happened.
‘Frank, you sit here opposite Grace,’ Tim said, moving to the end of the table opposite to Vincent. Henry tucked Jane under the table next to him.
‘Would you permit me to say grace?’ Henry asked.
‘Yes, I think we should,’ said Jane, despite her beliefs.
Everyone bowed their heads.
‘Dear Lord, we thank you for this feast you have provided for us and for the people you have brought together around this table. We pray that our eyes be open to the ways in which you are there in our lives so we may see your presence. Be our strength when we are wanting, fill our hearts with love and laughter. Help those among us who need to find peace and forgiveness. And keep our hopes burning. Be there to guide us and remind us what is truly important. Bless us all. Amen.’
He crossed himself and sat to a chorus of ‘Amens’.
‘That was lovely, Henry, thank you,’ said Roo.
‘High praise from me too – the heathen,’ added Jane with a wry smile.
‘It was very heartfelt. You’d make a good vicar,’ added Grace.
‘… When your name is cleared by the king.’ Roo raised her glass. ‘A toast to the king, let’s hope he does right by Henry.’
Everyone raised their glass.
‘The king.’
‘I like the king, he’s a gentle man, isn’t he? He sometimes looks tired though, I wish he’d take a rest,’ said Roo.
‘He hasn’t been well in the last year or so, has he?’ said Grace.
‘Mind you, I’m not surprised having a brother like that,’ said Henry. ‘The strain he’s put him under and the trouble he’s caused.’
Elizabeth gave her head a disapproving shake. ‘He’s done a lot of damage to the institution and set it back years.’
‘Plus he’s put the king in an intolerable situation with his questionable choice of friends,’ Henry added to that.
‘He was Prince Charming once upon a time though. How the mighty fall,’ added Vincent.
‘The king’s lovely. I prefer him any day of the week to his flashy brother.’
‘Me too, Roo. He’s a good, solid, honest king who cares about his people and is committed to his faith,’ Henry agreed with her. ‘And, when the time comes, his heir will be a great monarch too.’
‘I hope that’s not for a while though,’ said Elizabeth, not wanting to think ahead to such a thing.
That was probably the only unifying factor between herself, her father and her in-laws, they were all passionate royalists.
But that could have been because the honours system would be obliterated if there were a republic.
‘Can we do anything to help you, Henry?’ asked Vincent. ‘Write to someone for you?’
Henry smiled. ‘Thank you, but I have all the support I need.’ He pointed above. ‘In him I trust.’
‘You might need some secular help too, though, as a back-up,’ suggested Jane, spearing a roast potato. The crunch was very satisfying.
‘You’re right, of course. I have a practical plan as well.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it.’ And Jane sounded very relieved about that.
‘My sceptical friend.’ Henry chuckled. ‘Science and God sit together in a glass like oil and water. Science, according to Schrodinger, is an entertaining and useful tool to help us understand our world, but it does not – and never will – have all the answers. That’s why I intend to enlist the help of both oil and water: my faith and the pragmatic. ’
‘Touché.’ Jane raised her glass to him and Henry raised his and they chinked. Jane missed the intellectual arguments Clifford and his friends used to have over the dinner table about such things. In the days when there was healthy debate, something the present world should re-embrace, she thought.
‘This is a top drop of splosh.’ Vincent went in for another drink from his glass.
‘Don’t get hammered, you’ve got to perform later,’ Roo warned him.
‘Don’t worry, Miss Roo, I haven’t forgotten.’
‘There’s a lot of champagne in the stores. I didn’t think Mr Ingleton would mind if we relieved him of a couple. I wasn’t cheeky; I didn’t raid his Dom Perignon or his Pol Roger,’ said Frank.
He had every intention of leaving Mr Ingleton a note with his contact details on it. If the bloke wanted some recompense, he’d sort it.
As if Frank’s thoughts had drifted out into the open, Tim said, ‘We should swap contact details in case Mr Ingleton wants to get in touch with us.’ His meaning was clear.
Henry blew out his cheeks because he understood why Mr Ingleton might want to do that. ‘Not sure I’m going to be able to help you if he does.’
‘Don’t worry, Henry, we’ll cover yours if it comes to that. And Roo’s,’ said Grace.
Jane saw her smile across the table and experienced another one of her glimmer moments. Things might not have been thawing much outside the window but maybe they were a little in Grace’s heart.
Roo hadn’t twigged what they were talking about. She was too busy loading her fork with sprouts and turkey.
Vincent picked up his cracker and brandished it at Grace.
‘Come on, Gracie, let’s kick it off.’
The cracker was so stiff they had to tussle but eventually it cracked and a folded hat, a motto and a present fell out on Vincent’s side – much to his delight.
‘The red fish,’ he exclaimed, ripping into the small package. He placed it on his flat palm and waited. It didn’t take long for it to react to the moisture on his hand.
‘That’s not a fish, it’s Olga Korbut.’ Frank hooted, watching it curl up on itself.
Vincent picked up the accompanying paper insert with the explanatory key written on it.
‘Apparently that means I’m passionate.’
‘Ooh, there’s going to be some lucky girl one day,’ said Roo, giving Elizabeth a cheeky glance.
‘Here’s the joke,’ Vincent read. ‘Arthur, spell weather, said the teacher. W-E-I-A-T-H-A-R, replied young Arthur. You may sit down, said the teacher. I have to say, Arthur, that’s the worst spell of weather since last Christmas.’
Groans ensued.
‘If you think that’s bad, just wait until the talent contest later,’ said Vincent.
‘Come on, Frank,’ said Tim, holding his cracker up to him. Tim won the tug of war: a small metal plane landed on the table.
‘You’ll be on one of those soon,’ said Roo.
‘I will.’ Tim put it in his pocket so he wouldn’t lose it.
Roo’s contained a painted metal lion, complete with full, dark mane.
‘What do lions sing at Christmas? Jungle bells. That’s the worst joke on the planet.’
‘Trust me, it really isn’t,’ said Vincent. ‘That lion is straight out of the Wizard of Oz and it’s a sign you need courage, even though you’re full of it already.’
Roo was touched by that. ‘Aw, thank you, Vincent.’
‘I tell you what else you’re full of.’
‘Vincent.’ Jane wagged an admonishing finger at him, but her eyes were twinkling.
‘You all right, gel?’ Frank called across to Roo and winked.
‘I am.’ Roo nodded, and she was too. She was warm in the lap of luxury, surrounded by wonderful company with a fantastic sprout-heavy dinner in front of her.
She was drinking best champagne with cherries sat in the bottom of her glass and a very beautiful Narnia-like view framed in the windows.
She could be a lot worse off. And next time she wouldn’t fall in love with someone with a surname that was incompatible with Ruby.
Elizabeth’s cracker contained the ancient and rubbish joke about the difference between a snowman and a snowwoman. ‘SNOWBALLS,’ everyone shouted; and a cute silver whistle that worked, because she tried it.
Then Vincent said, sounding very serious and in a strange accent, ‘You don’t have to act with me. You don’t have to say anything and you don’t have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe just whistle. You know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve?’
‘Steve who?’ asked Roo, totally confused.
But Elizabeth got it.
‘Roo, it’s one of the most famous scenes from a film ever,’ explained Vincent. ‘I used to watch the old films with my mum and dad. I picked up all the quotes. Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart.’
‘Which one was that supposed to be then? Don’t think Rory Bremner has much to worry about.’
‘Somebody down that end give her a slap for me. I don’t want to soil my hands,’ said Vince, making Roo laugh.