Page 139 of One More Christmas at the Castle
‘Talking to himself on camera upstairs, I think,’ I said. ‘He pre-set a load of film clips to go up on his vlog over Christmas, but he’s been adding occasional live ones.’
I finished rolling the sponge up without it cracking and put it on a rectangular silver cake board, before pulling a bowl towards me and starting to beat the contents.
‘What are you going to do with that Swiss roll?’ he asked.
‘It’ll be a festive log, once I’ve spread this chocolate butter icing all over it: haven’t you ever had one of those?
‘No, but I know what you mean.’
‘This one’s for tea tomorrow, so you can try it then.’
He watched me as I took a butter knife and spread the icing over the cake in a rough bark-like effect, then added an oversized plastic robin and a sprig of holly to the top.
‘There,’ I said, standing back to admire it.
‘I can see I’m going to be vying with your cooking for your attention for the next few days,’ he said wryly.
‘Well, it is Christmas Eve tomorrow – and then Christmas Day dinner is always quite a challenge – so much to get on to the table at the same time!’
Xan, it appeared, loved scraping chocolate butter from mixing bowls, almost as much as he did cake batter …
After that late-afternoon thaw, the temperature must have plummeted dramatically overnight, because Henry only got as far as the top of the drive next morning on his way to collect the papers, before turning back: the melted snow had turned the road into an ice rink.
‘Maybe later, though it’s still freezing out there, so I suspect no one is going anywhere today.’
‘The lake’s probably OK for skating again, though,’ I suggested.
‘I’d better grit the path across the lawn and the first flight of steps later, then, in case anyone fancies it,’ he said.
‘If it’s really that bitterly cold, it might not seem very tempting,’ I suggested.
Xan said much the same when he came in with Plum, having only ventured out as far as the edge of the herb garden. Plum hadn’t been too keen on the icy wind.
‘Neither was I – it felt like blades of ice,’ he said, filling Plum’s bowl up with gourmet doggy dinner. ‘It’s made me ravenous, though.’
‘Then it’s just as well breakfast is nearly ready,’ I said. ‘And then I’vesucha lot to do afterwards!’
‘She loves it all, really,’ Henry told him. ‘She’s going to be a culinary tornado until after Boxing Day.’
‘I create, rather than destroy,’ I pointed out.
‘Nancy’s told Sabine that you and Henry must join us for dinner tonight, as well as on Christmas Day,’ Xan said.
‘That was a kind thought, but I’d much rather not, because it’s easier for me just to cook and serve. I suppose we’ll have to, on Christmas Day, though, since Sabine’s already mentioned that to Henry.’
‘I’ll tell Nancy,’ he said, ‘or you can, because here she is!’
‘Good morning, my dears!’ said Nancy, her misty blue eyesbright and her silver hair as flyaway as ever. ‘I thought I’d come and tell you that everyone’s now down, except you, of course, Xan, but I thought you’d be in here.’
Xan told her that we’d much rathernotdine with everyone that evening, and she said she quite understood.
‘But we must all eat together on Christmas Day!’ she insisted, and then she and Xan took the coffee pot and milk jug, and followed Henry as he bore the last of the hot dishes to the morning room.
I made tea in the big, flowery pot and when I took it in, found Henry on toaster duty, catching the slices as they flew out of the slightly explosive machine.
‘Can I get you something hot, Sabine?’ asked Nigel, lifting the lids of the dishes on the hotplate and examining the contents.
‘Just scrambled eggs and bacon, thank you, Nigel,’ she said, and accepted a cup of coffee from Xan.
