Page 138 of One More Christmas at the Castle
Henry, when he’d plied the assembled party with his tasty morsels and Rudge Cocktail, reported that everyone was now well oiled and that this, together with the efforts of Nancy and Nigel, had created a more relaxed and mellow atmosphere among the guests.
‘Mrs Powys is looking verygrande dametonight in black lace andverysparkly earrings, and Sophie’s wearing a one-shouldered slinky jumpsuit that looks as if it’s been painted on her. Quite indecent, really.’
‘Is she going to wear a different outfit every evening, do you think?’ I asked. ‘How much luggage did she bring with her?’
‘Two large suitcases and one of those professional-looking vanity boxes.’
‘Obviously prepared for every eventuality!’ I said.
The roast beef was quite perfect – brown on the outside and faintly pink within. The Yorkshire puddings were perfect too, though, of course, I’d cheated with those and they were ready-made frozen ones.
But my roast potatoes looked so golden they seemed caramelized, and the gravy was rich and thick, as I knew Mrs Powys preferred it.
When I helped Henry carry in the main course, Xan was pouring the wine, as usual, and Dom passing the filled glasses, and both looked up at our entrance and smiled. Simon, though,seemed unable to tear his eyes away from Sophie’s cleavage, a crevasse down which you could have concealed several mountaineers and at least one Sherpa.
I thought Mrs Powys looked tired and a little remote, as if she was thinking deeply about something. But when Sophie remarked loudly and rudely that my cuisine was certainly not cordon bleu and on the stodgy side, she told her sharply that I was cooking the dishesshehad chosen and if any of her guests didn’t like it, they needn’t eat it.
I left the room after that, but I’m sure Sophie must have done her best to backtrack, for the next time I went in, she was fulsomely admiring Mrs Powys’s earrings. I noticed Mr Makepeace giving her another of those uneasy glances – and I supposed, for a cautious solicitor, not knowing what his granddaughter would do or say next would be worrying!
The earringswerevery spectacular – a large South Sea pearl, to match her necklace, set in a rectangular border of sparkling diamonds.
‘They were my mother’s, but I rarely wear them, because they’re quite heavy … and I think,’ she added, touching one, ‘that the catch has become loose on this one.’
She looked across the table. ‘Lucy, you must take it to the jewellers in Hexham after Christmas and get it repaired.’
‘Yes, Cousin Sabine,’ said Lucy, who had arrayed herself in unbecoming grey again, as if in half-mourning for something.
The treacle tart went in –morestodge for Sophie, though I expect she kept her mouth shut about it this time – and I laid the coffee tray ready, before starting to stack the first lot of dirty crockery into the dishwasher, under Plum’s melting and ever-hopeful dark gaze.
Henry, bringing back the cheeseboard and the remains of thetreacle tart – a scant sliver – opened his hand to show me something that caught the kitchen light in a shower of sparkles.
‘I just found one of Mrs Powys’s earrings under the table.’
‘She did say something about the catch on one of them being loose.’
‘I’ll give it to her when I take in the coffee,’ he said, popping it into the pocket of his tunic and then adding a plate of marzipanpetits foursto the tray. In his eyes, no drink should be unaccompanied by something to nibble, even if they’d just had a big roast beef blowout.
‘You do,’ I said absently, looking at the remains of the beef and thinking it would make good sandwiches to go with the soup for lunch tomorrow – but whatkindof soup?
‘Carrot and coriander,’ I decided aloud, ‘the old standby, but always good. I’d better take some stock out of the freezer.’
‘Lost you again,’ said Henry, picking up the tray and bearing it out.
When he came back, I remembered to ask, ‘Did you give Mrs Powys her earring?’
‘Yes, but she said she didn’t trust the catch any more, so took the other one out, too, and dropped them into that china jar of potpourri on the mantelpiece for safekeeping.’
‘What’s everyone doing now?’ I asked curiously.
‘Oh, mostly just slumped into a postprandial stupor after that sumptuous dinner, though I expect Mrs Powys will insist on bridge again. Nancy was looking for the Monopoly set. She says it’s her favourite game, but she always has to be the top hat, just asyoualways insist on being the dog.’
‘And then I feel compelled to buy all the properties in my favourite colours, whether it’s a good financial idea or not,’ I laughed.
‘We haven’t had much chance to play board games sincewe’ve been here,’ Henry said. ‘But maybe later tonight, if you aren’t too tired. I bet you’re only halfway through your list of things to do this evening!’
And he was right, because when Xan came in later to see where Plum had got to, I was just at the critical stage of rolling up a sheet of sponge cake, spread with chocolate butter icing, to make a Swiss roll.
‘Nigel was suggesting we play charades, so I sneaked out,’ he said. ‘Where’s Henry?’
