Page 33 of Snowfall Over Halesmere House
‘Assez juste. Then we will improvise. I have some beautiful couture gowns from my days modelling, and I am certain I will find one to suit you. Does that sound better? Would you sit for me in a gown?’
‘I think I would, yes.’ Ella knew nothing about couture, but this plan of Noelle’s sounded as though it could be fun. ‘You were a model?’
‘Oui, until I fell pregnant with Max and then those days were over. So, we will leave the studio for today as you are so very busy with your new job but come and have some tea with me tomorrow morning, and I will show the gowns to you then.’
‘That sounds lovely.’
‘You are collecting the children this afternoon and giving them tea,non?’
‘I am.’ Max had caught up with Ella yesterday after she’d returned from town and asked her if she would do today as a trial run. Her new DBS hadn’t arrived yet, but she’d emailed him a copy of her previous one, which was less than three years old.
‘Thank you, Ella.’ Noelle suddenly looked stricken. ‘I must make more time with them, but it is difficult, to stop working at three p.m. when I am painting. I cannot always recapture that moment in quite the same way when I return, and I am sometimes too tired to paint in the evenings and the light is terrible here in winter. I will do Thursday this week as usual and then I will be away. I must be ready for the exhibition and then I can step back.’
And Noelle was gone as suddenly as she’d arrived, her cape billowing in the damp breeze as she disappeared to her flat and the door clattered behind her.
Ella returned to the house and began looking up the other local suppliers she’d found in the community shop. Max had agreed to her hosting a supper next month and she planned to invite some producers and create a delicious menu to highlight their work. She also googled the local catering college and discovered it had an excellent reputation for teaching young people with a passion for hospitality, and that students were often snapped up by local businesses straight after graduating.
That gave her an idea and she emailed the course leader, Leah, offering her services as a guest chef as Marta had suggested. She hoped that if she made this contact she might be able to ask some students to help at the supper, both with front of house and cooking. She also found an agency further north who specialised in private staff and made some notes; she was thinking of a third, luxury package for potential retreat guests and a butler might be a nice touch.
She felt decidedly conspicuous as she walked down to the primary school later. Encouraged by Noelle, whom Ella had spotted enticing Stan upstairs to sit for her again, she’d collected Prim from the cottage and brought her along. Prim was delighted to be out, always ready to go faster, and as Ella had her trainers on she began to run with Prim following at her side. It was fun, if she didn’t count the hairy moment when they had to dodge a van after Prim spotted a squirrel racing up a tree, and they were soon at the little school a mile from the house. Ella hung around at the back of the crowd gathered outside the playground, conscious of curiosity from the other adults. One or two came over to make a fuss of Prim, who happily lapped it all up. The church was next door to the school, and it sat square in the middle of the dark churchyard.
‘Ella!’
She heard Lily’s shout and searched among the bustle of children spilling from the building. Lily ran from the playground and Arlo joined them moments later, each trailing lunch bags and reading bags as well as hats and scarves they didn’t want to wear.
‘Hey you two, how was your day?’ Ella wasn’t expecting the armfuls of stuff flung her way. She gathered it all together as the children bent down to cuddle Prim, who was predictably thrilled to see them.
‘Good but we had to do PE inside cos it was raining, and then it was wet play at lunchtime and the teacher putFrozenon.’ Lily pulled a disgusted face. ‘It’s SO boring and I hope I never have to watch it again.’
‘Right.’ Ella had never seen it. Without nieces or nephews, she had little experience of recent or current family movies. ‘And how about you, Arlo. Was your day fun?’
He nodded, and she wanted to smooth back the hair flopping to his brows. His eyes were tired, and he looked a little worried. ‘Are you making tea for us?’ he asked hopefully. ‘Mamie said you would be.’
‘I am. How does pasta and roasted vegetables sound?’
‘Good,’ Arlo confirmed.
Lily took Prim’s lead and once Ella had checked for non-existent traffic, they set off. The afternoon was already going dark, brightened only by lights from the occasional house or vehicle along the lane. Max had texted Ella to say he’d be home around six, and she planned to leave him and the children to enjoy their evening.
‘Will Daddy be home before I have to go to bed, Ella?’
‘I hope so. I know he doesn’t want to be late and miss you.’ She looked at Arlo. ‘He had to meet a client at their house who couldn’t see him until this afternoon. And I’ll be staying with you until then as your grandmother’s painting.’ She thought it better not to mention Noelle was probably painting Stan; it might produce more questions than she knew how to answer from this inquisitive pair.
They strolled along, with Lily and Prim exploring verges smothered in soggy leaves and damp grass. It wasn’t long before Ella felt Arlo’s cold little hand inside hers. She’d wanted to hold it but hadn’t dared try for fear of treading where he might not want her. She squeezed his fingers to let him know she liked it and saw his shy smile. She’d noticed some of the other children wandering off hand in hand with their mums and had gulped back the rush of emotion at the sharp reminder of Lily and Arlo being unable to do the same.
Once back at the cottage there was a minor battle over how much stuff the children were allowed to dump in the hall, and Ella got them to put away their bags before they went off to shut up the chickens. The birds were already inside their wooden shed and Lily informed her that Stan often helped to feed them when Max wasn’t around. Back at the cottage, Lily fed Prim, and Ella soon had the vegetables roasting nicely in the oven while she prepared the pasta for cooking. Arlo was doing homework at the island and Lily joined him, and Ella gave them a bowl of snacks to keep them going until tea.
The stove was laid with logs and she lit it, switching on the fairy lights strung across the dresser, and the Christmas tree lights, making the family room feel snug and warm. Lily had soon finished her homework, and put a playlist of Christmas songs on her iPad and showed Ella a few of her best dance moves, managing to persuade Ella to join in. She was trying her best to copy Lily’s choreography to a song being performed at the school nativity next month – it seemed to involve a lot of arm movements and a fair bit of hopping – and they were all laughing when Max burst through the door from the hall and stopped dead, his messenger bag hitting the floor.
Ella’s eyes shot over to his and she froze at the shock she read in them. The music was still going, and she hadn’t heard the bang of the front door announcing his arrival over the din. Lily, Arlo and Prim all raced over, and he hurriedly dropped down to hug them as Prim tried to clamber onto his knee. Ella went to the oven to check on the vegetables and get the pasta going. She hovered beside the hob as she heard him asking the children about their day and if their rehearsal for the nativity had gone well.
‘Really well, Daddy, I was just practising “Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree” with Ella.’ Lily grabbed his hand, tugging him over to the kitchen. ‘Watch us, Daddy, please. Ella was really good.’
‘Oh, I can’t, Lily, I’m sorry.’ Ella tried to soften her refusal with a smile, not certain Max would appreciate her dancing with his daughter. ‘The vegetables are nearly ready, and I can’t leave the pasta boiling on its own with you guys nearby.’
‘I’ll watch it.’ He shrugged out of his coat and joined her on the other side of the island, sending her pulse leaping a level at the flare of awareness in his eyes, red-rimmed with tiredness. ‘You looked like you needed the practice when I came in.’
‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ Ella protested. His arm brushed hers as he glanced at the pasta. Even through the aroma of the vegetables and herbs roasting in the oven, she caught traces of the cologne he wore, reminding her of something warm and woody with a suggestion of vanilla.
