Читать книгу A Cosy Christmas in Cornwall - Jane Linfoot - Страница 11

‘Is everything okay?’

By the time we next see Bill, Merwyn and I have been blown all the way to St Aidan and all the way back again. Thanks to a well-timed snack rescue in St Aidan and the kind of planning you can only do when you’re half running, half falling along the sand, we’re now curled up back in the kitchen feeling more collected than before. So instead of yelling THERE’S NO FURNITURE OR COMFORT OR INTERNET OR DECCIES OR DOGS, HOW THE HELL CAN ANYTHING BE OKAY? I just sniff and stay completely silent.

It was a bracing walk, with the wind smashing into our faces, so I have to admit it’s way cosier watching the cobalt blue sea dissolving into wiggles of white foam rolling up the beach from the comfort of the sofa in my case, with a frothy hot chocolate. Or in Merwyn’s case, from his Christmas Tree rug with the pompom edge, on the polished wood plank floor.

Bill’s taken off his Barbour and is resting a denim-shirted shoulder on the wall as he studies us. ‘You seemed a little bit over-wrought before, that’s all.’

Over-WROUGHT????!!! So like a guy to imply it’s the woman who’s being unreasonable when he’s the one who’s responsible for every aspect of the panic. I make my voice airy, because there’s only going to be one winner here. ‘St Aidan was pretty, thanks for the recommendation.’

Not that Bill can take any of the credit, but there were the cutest white painted cottages with grey slate roofs stacked up the hillside, narrow cobbled alleyways winding up between the buildings, postage-stamp sized views of the jewel-like sea, and brightly coloured boats bobbing in the harbour.

‘It was very Christmassy too.’ We even saw a pony and trap, driven by Santa and an elf, its bells jingling as it sped off around the bay. Every shop window was festooned with decorations, and there was a wedding shop with snowy lace dresses, trails of frosted ivy and the kind of twinkly ice-chip fairy lights that take your breath away. Not that I’ll ever be needing a shop like that myself, but I couldn’t help but sigh at the prettiness.

But Bill must know that there are outdoor Christmas trees every few yards around the harbour and all the way up into the town too. Despite his ‘decoratively significant’ two week let, for some reason he hasn’t felt inclined to follow that festive lead.

He tilts his head on one side. ‘So, did you call in anywhere?’

‘We popped in the Hungry Shark, it’s dog friendly, and it has free wifi.’ I stare at him pointedly. ‘Just saying. It is possible to find both only a mile down the beach.’ I also discovered they do mince pie muffins to die for, and I had two, but given who he is and what he’s not done, not to mention his ‘don’t give a damn’ attitude, that’s one tip I won’t be passing on.

He nods. ‘The hot apple punch there is good, you should try that next time.’ His eyes go just a little bit darker as they narrow. ‘I can’t promise it tastes half as good as those vin chaud cocktails we drank in Chamonix, but I reckon they must have had magic mountain dust sprinkled in them.’

I don’t even have to think hard to bring back the heady mix of warm cinnamon, Cointreau and mandarin, but I’d never tell him that. I’d also rather not let him know that I’d be a lot more comfortable if he wasn’t dragging things up from so long ago. I mean, I thought women were the ones who nailed every detail of distant memories. It’s quite a shock when a guy pulls one out. ‘Probably all down to those rose tinted holiday ski goggles you were wearing.’

He lets out a low laugh. ‘As I remember, you were wearing those too.’

‘No, mine were definitely genuine, see it like it is, bog-standard Raybans.’ Jeez, I need to move this on. But I’m not going to tell him I had two of the punches he mentioned, or who knows where he’ll take that to.

I was trying to pluck up the courage to send Fliss the ‘Houston, we have a problem’ text. I’d planned to ping that off the minute I had signal, then follow up a few minutes later with a call. If there had been one bit of bad news I could have done it. But after everything I discovered earlier this morning, it felt like too much of a disaster avalanche to drop onto Fliss when she has so much on her plate at the moment. Not only has she got two babies to deal with, but her husband Rob has been causing her to worry recently too.

Fliss and Rob are one of my favourite ever couples, simply because they seem so much more right together than on their own. From their meeting in a cupboard playing sardines at a party, past an Eiffel Tower proposal, their huge and wonderful farm meadow wedding, through to Rob delivering Oscar on his own in the bathroom when the hospital had sent Fliss home – they’ve been there for each other in the most incredible way. For my money, two people consistently appreciating each other is a very rare thing, but these two have that in spades. Or at least they have done for the eight years they’ve been together. When everyone else ran out of dizzy love a few months in, until very recently they were still solidly head over heels. Rob’s so reliable, and laid back and supportive and always there, for a guy he seemed too good to be true. But nothing less than Fliss deserved.

Obviously George coming home ridiculously late, and being vague with his replies and turning up on Facebook at places I didn’t even know he’d been to happened so often I’d have been more surprised if they hadn’t. But Rob’s always been so consistent, if his heart misses a beat Fliss notices. It’s not that she’s clingy or possessive because she’s really not. It’s more that they’re so in tune she picks up on the smallest variation. And lately there have been a few instances. Singly I’d have sympathised and forgotten them. But there have been enough now to set my pre-alarm bells ringing. And even though there’s nothing so extreme to make it okay to bring it up with him, there are certainly enough to send her round the bend with silent worry. And kick herself for not getting rid of all that baby weight she put on, and not getting dressed for three years and forgetting about sex. And doing all the things it’s okay to do when someone really loves you enough they won’t give a damn.

So, I hold my hands up – I chickened out and I’ve come back to reassess. Before I launch the bad news dump on Fliss, I want to see if I can improve the situation.

‘So what were you saying about Merwyn earlier?’

It seems like a good place to begin. When life puts brick walls in front of you, you can turn around. Or you can knock them down and march on forwards. That’s the kind of person I am. It’s not always easy, but that’s the outcome I’m trying for here. And Lord Arrogant would do well to note, my demolition hammer’s at the ready. I might have been soft and naive back in the day in Chamonix, but there’s been a lot of water under a lot of bridges since then.

I’m deliberately personalising this by calling Merwyn by name, so I give the dog in question a nudge with my toe and make sure he sees me get a doggy chocolate out of the pocket of my jeans. I stopped short of the emotional blackmail of dressing him up in his super-cute Santa suit which makes everyone melt, but when he sits up and blinks those soulful brown eyes of his and offers his paw, he’s equally irresistible.

But Bill’s not even looking our way. ‘Well behaved dogs are by prior arrangement only, Merwyn isn’t on the guest list.’

Damn. If I’d known this before I could have rung ahead or even tried to hide him, not that I’d have managed that. I might as well come clean. ‘He was always invited, but he was only available to come at the last minute.’

Bill’s blinking at us now. ‘Keep going.’

I’m trying doubly hard here, not to be distracted by the views, and not to lose my cool no matter how annoying he is. ‘He belongs to my neighbour, Tatiana, she’s a model, I’m his stand-in mum when she works abroad.’ I can see I’m not making any impression. ‘He’s a kind of a dog share.’

Bill’s frowning. ‘Still not getting it.’

‘Tatiana got a last minute job and flew off to Prague, there was no one else to look after him so he’s here with me.’ I’m throwing in all the details to make him understand. ‘Merwyn begged me … he was wearing his Santa outfit … I couldn’t refuse.’ That’s how I know how effective it is.

Bill’s raising his eyebrows. ‘So this wasn’t another of Mrs Johnstone-Cody’s oversights?’ He’s so condescending.

‘Merwyn’s all down to me.’ Merwyn’s eyes are still popping, his gaze welded on the chocolate drop, but I hadn’t counted on him drooling quite so much. I’m going to have to grovel fast before he dribbles all over the rather expensive-looking floor. ‘I’m sorry, I assumed dogs would be welcome, they are in all the best on-trend places now.’ Flattery’s not working so I try again. ‘It’s a big castle, he’s a little dog.’ I almost add so get over it, but I manage to bite it back. Instead I get a tissue out of my pocket and try to mop the slobber puddle off the floor without Bill seeing.

Before I know it Bill’s standing in front of us, handing over kitchen roll, studying me through narrowed eyes. It’s actually more like an in depth examination than a look.

‘So you lost the pixie haircut you had in Chamonix?’

Damn, I was hoping we’d get Merwyn the ‘all clear’ before we moved on anywhere else. What I want to talk about is Merwyn’s free pass to a castle Christmas, not sodding hairstyles.

Bill’s stare is so piercing it’s as if he’s turning me inside out. ‘It made you look like Audrey Hepburn in her elfin period. You wore your hat less then too.’ He blinks at me. ‘Come to think of it, you’ve had it on ever since you got here. Are you cold?’

However persistent he is, I’m not giving anything away. ‘I’m fine, it’s just with longer hair I get more bad hair days that need covering up.’ Even if he caught me off guard there I’m so pleased with that reply I throw in a bit more. ‘You know what it’s like, all this damp sea air and salt, it’s a nightmare for messy bobs.’

‘You’ve still got a look of Audrey, even in that woolly hat with the huge furry pompom.’

I let out a hollow ironic laugh. ‘That’s a bonkers comparison. How did you even ski if you’re that blind?’ I can’t say how nostalgic I am for my lovely cropped cut. Or how exasperated I get trying to make my longer hair behave. Now he’s mentioned it, I’m tugging the sweep of my bob fringe down under my hat making sure it’s covering the side of my face properly. ‘You’re right though, I only grew it about a year ago.’

The corners of his eyes crinkle. ‘Both ways really suit you. To my mind dark brown hair is very underrated.’ His face breaks into a grin as he reaches across and gives the strand below my ear a playful tug. ‘And longer is good because it’s easier to pull.’

‘Stop that!’ I lurch sideways.

‘What?’ His lips are twisting into a smile and his laugh is low. ‘It was one little tweak, there’s no need to jump all the way to St Aidan.’

That’s what he thinks. From the shivers radiating across my scalp and zithering down my spine, St Aidan is probably five miles too close. And just because he says something nice doesn’t make him any less arrogant. In fact in this case it only reinforces how great he is at telling lies. I mean, in all our years together George never mentioned Audrey once. Now I’ve got my shuddering under control I need to turn this back onto Bill.

‘You’ve changed a bit yourself.’

He grins and rubs his fingers through his tousled curls. ‘Waving goodbye to Will and his short-back and sides means a lot fewer trips to the barbers.’ His eyes narrow. ‘There’s plenty to pull too, help yourself, any time.’

I shake my head at Merwyn to hide that I’m even tempted and let out a snort. ‘That’s one thing I definitely won’t be doing.’ And hopefully that’s an end to it.

It’s not as if we ever met up with any of the holiday people again after we got back home. I decided afterwards that George must have blagged his way into that chalet in the same way he did with everything else in life. But if Bill’s intent on raking over the past, I might as well find out what happened to the super-attractive solicitor who spent the entire holiday throwing herself off her skis and into his path. ‘Weren’t you with a woman called …’

He rolls his eyes as I hesitate. ‘You’re thinking of Gemma. We weren’t actually an item, at the time I think I was probably trying my best to avoid her.’

‘Omigod, yes, Gemma c-c-c –’ For once I manage to stop before the worst comes out. If I’d given her her full ‘cow-face’ title Merwyn might be banished for ever. It’s important to say, we didn’t call her anything that rude lightly. Looking back, that was probably an offence to cows. But she pushed the other eleven of us to the limit by being the chalet-mate from hell – using all the hot water, always grabbing the best shower, hogging the steam room, stealing other people’s cake from the fridge, drinking all the wine, taking the last milk, making nasty comments about everyone else’s bums in ski pants, not to mention their thighs, party dresses, career progress and their sex toys.

I pick myself up enough to carry on. ‘Gemma was the super-pretty one.’ It’s probably only human to remember the worst bits. Her faking a broken ankle on the slopes so he had to take her to hospital. Doing the same pretending to fall downstairs. ‘Good job avoiding her, I’d say that was a narrow escape. She was hard work, hideous even.’

He pulls a face, then he goes on. ‘Well, she got me in the end, we did go out eventually.’

I’m smiling. ‘Haha, you nearly had me there.’ And then I see he isn’t laughing. ‘Shit, you really did get together, didn’t you?’ I’ve no idea why there is a stab of jealousy shooting through my chest big enough to wind me. I mean, he was bound to be with someone, and that was never going to be me. But even though Gemma was super-attractive with a high flying job, I’m still reeling, simply because she seemed so calculating and blatant for someone as warm as he was. But as my mum and gran always say, if a woman sets her sights on a man and is determined enough, she can usually get him in the end.

‘We actually got together shortly after Chamonix. Gemma wasn’t too keen on life down here, but luckily we’d kept our London place, she’s working back there for now.’

‘So you’re still in touch then?’ Why the hell did I ask that? It’s obvious they are.

He gives a hollow laugh. ‘I hear from her most days, yes.’

Can you kick yourself and die inside all at the same time, because that’s what I’m doing now. ‘I’m soooo sorry.’ It isn’t nearly enough. ‘Double sorry. Triple, even.’ And I’m also waving goodbye to every chance of clemency Merwyn had.

Bill’s still staring at me like I’m Exhibit A. ‘It must be my turn for a question now. So if you and George aren’t married you must be having the longest engagement ever? Or else you got married and divorced? I mean, he was your fiancé?’

I have to put him right on this. ‘There was never a wedding or even an engagement.’

‘Really?’ He’s screwing up his face like he doesn’t believe me, then he blinks and carries on. ‘My mistake then.’ From the way his brows are knitting he’s definitely confusing me with someone else. And people like him never admit they’re wrong, so there’s something very odd going on here. ‘So where’s George now?’

I should know the answer to this. ‘New York …’

‘And you’re flying out for New Year in Manhattan as soon as you’re finished here?’ Bill might not be giving much away himself, but he’s certainly big on filling in my backstory.

I shake my head and rack my brain. ‘… or it could be Los Angeles.’

Bill gives a sniff. ‘I take it from the confusion that it’s not a long distance relationship?’ From his smirk I’d say he has to be looking down on my lack of geographical knowledge too.

‘No, George and I are ancient history.’ At least this has taken the heat off my earlier blunder.

‘Great.’ For a second Bill’s beaming at me, then he pulls a face. ‘Except, it possibly isn’t so great for you.’

‘This is why it’s good to talk about the future, not the past.’ I’m hoping that’ll put a stop to him banging on about ski lodges and let me get back to my current, most pressing problem. ‘So is there any good reason dogs aren’t allowed in the castle?’ If I hadn’t put both my size sevens (on a good day, sometimes I have to admit to an eight) in it so wholeheartedly, I might have been able to fall back on the shared history I’d rather forget. As it is, I’m fighting this at a disadvantage.

Bill blinks as if he’s having to drag himself back to the moment. ‘It’s an insurance issue. It’s a very ancient structure, we can’t have dogs running wild.’

I think we both know that’s bollocks. ‘So you’re happy for the place to be wrecked by party revellers, but a tiny dog, who wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone a battlement, is banned?’ My voice has gone high with disapproval. It’s Bill’s turn to look vaguely embarrassed, and I’m not going to waste that show of weakness.

‘A castleful of shit-faced stags or a small dog? I know who I’d rather let to.’ I’m about to pull out my trump card. ‘Merwyn doesn’t drink either. He’s completely teetotal.’

Bill’s wincing. ‘Shit-faced. That reminds me, there’s the poop issue too.’

Damn that I’m the one who brought this up. But we’re covered here. ‘Merwyn and I come armed with value-range sandwich bags, we scoop before the poop hits the ground. Every time. And we have baby wipes for squelchy days.’

Bill holds up his hand. ‘Stop! That’s way too much information if you’re not a dog person.’ And in a nutshell, that’s the issue.

At least we know. Arrogant and a dog detester. How did I get him so wrong? As if he wasn’t bad enough already, he just went down another lift shaft in my estimation. Merwyn’s at his most adorable, waving his paw in the air, quivering with choccie-anticipation. But Bill’s oblivious, so I’ll have to try another route.

I have one last weapon so I clear my throat. ‘Dogs aside, you’ve done a top-price Christmas let to someone expecting the full works. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes if Libby turns up and finds the castle is bare. You need my help here, so you might need to ease up on the anti-animal thing.’

Bill’s squinting at me. ‘Sorry?’

It never fails to surprise me when someone thinks that people who can afford to pay too much for things won’t want value for money. From what I’ve seen working at Daniels the people with the biggest bank accounts are always the pickiest. What’s more, they can also afford the redress when things go tits up. I’m just surprised that Bill, being one of ‘them’, doesn’t know the score here.

I’m going to have to tell it to him like it is. ‘I have to warn you, Mrs Johnstone-Cody’s nothing like your no-fucks-given easy-to-please stags. When she sees the lack of space, luxury, privacy, decorations and authentic four-posters, she’s not going to be a happy bunny.’ I pause to let that sink in. ‘That’s definitely an optimistic view. Libby’s larger than life, and she doesn’t take prisoners. Realistically her explosion could blow the roof off – off the castle and whatever business you’re running here.’

I have to admit most of what I know about Libby is what I’ve heard second hand from Fliss. She’s a couple of years older than us so when we went to stay with Fliss’s mum when we were at uni Libby was already off living her super-expansive and very charmed life. But the stories from Fliss about Libby’s latest exploits have kept me shocked and impressed in equal measure for years.

Bill groans. ‘If you’re more than five feet tall, ancient four posters are a pain in the butt. And however hard Mrs JC stamps her feet, I can’t make the castle any bigger – it’s the size that it is, end of story.’ The way he’s rolling out the excuses with that sarcastic tone, he has no idea of the shit storm that’s about to hit him.

‘But there are things you could do?’ If I’m pushing him, it’s only for the sake of Merwyn’s Christmas.

He’s straight back at me. ‘If Mrs JC seriously wants to lug in all her own wood and keep the very temperamental fires going, good luck to her with that one, I’m happy to make myself invisible.’ His expression hardens. ‘But if I’m banned from my own kitchen, she can forget borrowing my internet.’

My mouth’s dropped open. ‘But you said there wasn’t any?’

‘There isn’t. Not in the public areas.’

Oh my. If I’m going to have to crawl on the floor here to beg, I’m going to have to do it. I NEVER use my womanly wiles to get what I want, I’d NEVER NEVER NEVER flirt with a guy like Will. I mean Bill. Except in my head, obviously. Or when I accidentally got all breathy and chesty in those Merino wool incidents, but I swear they weren’t planned. But for something this important, this one time, I’m desperately channelling my inner Audrey.

‘I need to upload pictures to Instagram as they happen, or no one will see the Johnstone-Cody Christmas. It’s my responsibility to deliver fabulous photos and I’m getting paid for it. Without internet I might as well not be here, I’m totally stuffed. I know it’s a first world problem, but I need this job.’

I can see him soften a little. Then he says. ‘There’s ten meg in my room.’

‘Excuse me?’ I have no idea what he’s talking about.

‘Ten megabytes per second – that’s how fast the internet works. And there’s signal in there too.’

‘WHAT?!!!’ When he invited me to share the hot tub it was a flat out NO! If he invited me into his bedroom to use the internet, however undressed he was, I’d have to shut my eyes tight and dive straight in even though I’d despise myself for it. But I draw the line at pleading stares. ‘So, can I borrow it or not?’ I’m aware my glare’s coming out a bit fiercely. ‘Occasionally? By arrangement? When you’re not in there?’ I’m going for broke here. ‘I am saving your life here with my insider information, don’t forget.’

He’s shaking his head. ‘Sure. Fine. But don’t tell anyone else.’

I’m with him on that. ‘Especially not the kids, or they’ll be in there twenty-four seven.’

It was a throw away thought, but I’m delighted I said it, if only to enjoy the horror spreading across his face. ‘There are KIDS?’

‘Only nine of them.’

His voice rises to a shriek. ‘But we let to adults, nothing about this castle is child-friendly.’

I shrug and try to look less shocked than I feel. ‘Another bit of small print you should have checked before you grabbed the cash. It’s too late now, they’re coming, you’ll have to upgrade accordingly.’ If he’s a dog hater and a child hater, I can’t imagine how this will ever work out. No wonder the place is so bare and lacking in any traces of emotional warmth. Whatever I picked up on all those years ago, I got him totally wrong. The man obviously has no empathy at all.

But at the same time I’ve made two unexpected leaps forward. There’s actually no need for Bill to hide anywhere, because how many of Libby’s friends will have their own dedicated wood delivery person? I’m wondering how Bill would feel about smartening up a bit so we could pass him off as a butler in a few of the photos.

Now I’m sensing I’ve got the upper hand, I’m throwing it all out there. ‘So what about the deccies, then?’

This time his groan’s louder still. ‘I’m a straight guy, I struggle garnishing a cocktail. Ask me to tinsel up a castle, I haven’t got the foggiest where to begin.’ Which proves he knows one twinkly word, so he’s not quite as clueless as he’s claiming.

‘There are always attics rammed with cast-offs in the houses by the sea in Enid Blyton books.’ The more I think about it, the more it goes with the territory. And if we’re stuck with an arrogant arse like Bill, who’s so far failing miserably with this let, we might as well make the most of whatever trappings we can get our hands on. ‘Don’t you have a loft we could plunder?’

‘You know the top floor’s full of bedrooms.’ That’s it. Then he takes a deep breath and wrinkles his nose. ‘There is some of the old tat we pulled out of the castle – that’s over in the coach house, but I swear none of it’s usable.’

I sit up straighter. ‘You’ll be surprised what you can make use of when the going gets tough. And Christmas trees would make a huge difference too. It’s my job to make things look pretty, if you’d stop channelling your inner Scrooge, I’m sure we could sort this. Believe me, anything that stops Libby having a meltdown will be more than worth the effort. She and the kids are arriving late Sunday. If we work our socks off from now until then, we can turn this around.’

Bill rolls his eyes, then does another shudder at the mention of the children. ‘When you put it like that, what are you waiting for?’

Time for me to drop my very own bombshell. ‘I can only stay if Merwyn does.’

‘Why did I ever start this?’ Bill’s growling through gritted teeth. ‘You’ll have to keep him out of the distillery. The kids too.’

‘Obviously. Merwyn hates distilleries anyway.’ I’m not going to admit that yet again I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. What distillery?

Bill looks as if he’s close to having smoke coming out of his nostrils and his ears. ‘Fine.’ It’s obviously nothing of the kind, but this is his bed, he made it, he has to lie in it, or however the saying goes. ‘I’m not happy, but you’ve got me over a barrel here – Merwyn can stay.’

And finally, a result! ‘Did you hear that Merwyn, you got your invitation to Christmas at the castle!’ I let him snaffle his chocolate drop, and he’s so ecstatic that he leaps up on the sofa, jumps straight onto my knee and smothers me in sloppy doggy kisses.

Bill’s face is crumpling in distaste. ‘Two conditions – no dogs on the sofas and definitely no dogs on the beds.’

It’s not that we aren’t going to be respectful. But Merwyn and I both know, Bill’s in no position to make rules here. And the faster he realises that, the better we’ll all get on.

As for me, there was a train wreck roaring towards me at a hundred miles an hour and somehow I’ve managed to avert it. It’s not that I care about this for myself, it’s more that I want to make things perfect for Fliss and Libby and everyone else who’s coming down. It’s going to be a huge challenge to keep this on track. It’s going to be hideous doing this with Bill around. But right now, with three days ahead of me, an empty castle, and carte blanche to fill it with Christmas, I couldn’t feel any more focussed on the job in hand.

I whistle Merwyn, then beam across at Bill. ‘So where’s this coach house then?’