Page 20 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
Reluctantly I do as she says, but I still have so many questions.
‘How did all that just happen?’ I demand, still looking around me. The Christmas tree is back in front of the window again – decorated with all the decorations that Angela and I originally hung on it. ‘One minute you’re telling me a story about your ancestors and the next … well, it was like we were there with them. Except how could we have been – that was over two hundred and fifty years ago!’
‘Estelleisa very good storyteller,’ Angela says calmly, picking up her cup of tea again. ‘I’m always amazed at her level of detail.’
‘That wasn’t just good storytelling.’ I look suspiciously at them both. ‘That was like some magic trick, at the very least a trick of the mind.’ I see my own cup of tea has miraculously appeared next to me again and I frown. ‘What’s in this?’ I pick up the cup, which is still warm. ‘Some sort of hallucinogenic drug – is that it? Did you drug me?’ I lift the cup to my nose, but nothing unusual wafts up my nostrils, just the usual aroma of tea.
Estelle looks at Angela and smiles.
‘This isn’t funny!’ I cry, my china cup clanking back down on its saucer as I leap up. ‘One minute we’re here by the fire and you’re telling me a simple story, and the next … it’s like we’re in a Jane Austen novel. Now you tell me exactly what went on just now, or … or I walk!’ I point towards the front door. ‘I walk out of this house right now, away from this hocus-pocus, and away from writing your family history, Estelle!’
I stare challengingly at them both.
As they both look back at me, Angela has the good grace to look worried, possibly even a little ashamed. But Estelle just seems cool and collected as always.
‘Where would you go?’ she asks calmly, to my surprise.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean where would you go? It’s the nineteenth of December. I doubt you’d get lodgings now right before Christmas, and we both know you can’t afford a hotel – especially not during the festive season.’
‘You don’t know anything about me,’ I say, quite unnerved by both Estelle’s cool questioning and also her accuracy. She’s spot on, of course. But how? ‘You don’t know what I can or can’t afford. Or how many people I could go and stay with.’
‘Well, it won’t be your family, will it?’ Estelle says, lifting her own tea and taking a sip. ‘You’ve fallen out with them.’
‘H-how could you possibly know that?’ I ask, still aghast at her knowledge of my life.
Estelle shrugs. ‘I know many things.’
‘But you can’t possibly … Who have you been talking to?’
‘Maybe you could go and stay with one of your many friends,’ she continues. ‘I’m sure they’d be overjoyed to have you. Or would they be quite so keen when they’re mostly your ex’s friends?’
I stare at Estelle. This was just plain weird now. How could she possibly know any of this?
‘I don’t think you have an awful lot of choice, do you, Elle? It looks to me like Christmas House is your best bet right now.’
I feel my legs buckle underneath me, like I’d seen Celeste’s do just now. But unlike Celeste, I don’t have an Edith to fall back on, so instead I fall back into the chair.
‘I think that’s enough now,’ Angela says, raising her eyebrows at Estelle. ‘Are you all right, Elle?’ she asks gently. ‘The last few minutes must have been quite a shock.’
I’m not sure if she’s talking about our trip into the past or Estelle’s all too accurate summing up of my life.
‘I think it might be time to break out the whisky,’ Estelle announces. ‘Elle looks like she needs a pick-me-up. She’s gone quite pale.’
‘Oh no,’ I say, waving my finger at them. ‘I’m not taking anything else from you two until you tell me exactly what’s going on.’
Estelle glances at Angela.
‘Ah-ah, don’t look at me.’ Angela shakes her head. ‘I said to take it slowly. You were the one who said she’d be all right with it.’
‘All right with what?’ I demand. ‘Will you please tell me what’s going on here – the truth this time.’
‘It’s really nothing to be concerned about,’ Estelle says kindly, after she’s cast an irritated look in Angela’s direction. ‘Everything I’ve told you so far is absolutely true. I do want you to write the history of this house and my family, and I do want you to stay here with us while you do.’ Estelle glances at Angela again, and Angela nods her encouragement. ‘I’m sorry if I was a little harsh with you just now, Elle. I didn’t mean to be rude, even if I came over that way. Perhaps my methods might be … how can I put this … a littledifferentthan you’re used to. But please trust me when I say that everything we do is for your benefit, Elle. We will never put you at any risk, or let you come to any harm.’
What a strange thing to say – ‘it’s for my benefit’. Why is any of this for my benefit? Unless Estelle means so I can understand her stories better? But that still doesn’t explain how what happened just happened!
But Estelle seems so genuine as she speaks, it’s hard for me to disbelieve anything she’s saying. I’ve met and interviewed enough people in my time to know when someone is lying, and I really don’t think Estelle is.
