Page 56 of New Beginnings at the Little Christmas Inn
‘Snow in Dorset? Hardly likely. Go and sit by the wood burner and annoy Pete. He’s scared everyone else away so there are two chairs free. I’ll check with the kitchen. See if they can rustle you up something to eat. Might only be burgers though.’
‘Burgers would be great. Thanks, Livvy.’ He went to go and then turned back to her. ‘It’s good to see you again too.’
She smiled at him and something warm gladdened her heart.
CHAPTER 31
Ratafia – a sweet, fortified wine with the flavour of bitter almonds. Popular in the nineteenth century.
‘Ihear you’re interested in Ada Lovelace,’ Nats said.
The pub was emptying. Pete had shuffled off, with Skip at his heels, refusing the offer of a lift from Verity. Mark, Nats and Simona were lounging in front of the wood burner. Livvy had poured the remains of the mulled wine into a jug and had joined them. Michael Bublé crooned in the background and it all felt very mellow.
‘Good night, Livvy,’ Jason called from the door. He’d spent the evening talking to Jonquil and her husband.
‘Night, Jason,’ she responded. He swept them with what she thought was an odd look, speculative, not jealous exactly but more the look the boy with no friends in the playground gives to the cool crowd. The mask had slipped but she still couldn’t fathom what lay beneath. Livvy shrugged him off, turning back to Nats to answer her question. ‘Not sure if I’m interested in herespecially but Mark and I came across someone in the museum who might have known her. Adela Dickson. Her family owned the house which the museum is in. The display mentioned she may have known Ada, maybe met her in London. Then your brother here waxed lyrical about Ada Lovelace.’
Nats rolled her eyes, her face flushed from the heat of the fire. ‘Caught that off his ex-father-in-law.’
‘Yes apparently, he’s very interested in her?’
‘Obsessed more like. But she is a fascinating character. Byron’s daughter, brought up by her mother to ignore anything arty in case she took after her wicked father. Trained to be a scientist. Gambler. Two children and dead by thirty-six.’ Nats sat back looking slightly smug. ‘I’m auditioning to play her in a new biopic, so I’ve had to do some research. She was an amazing woman. Just imagine what she could have achieved had she not married and died young.’
‘I don’t have a clue about computers beyond how to use them, but didn’t she have something to do with programming?’
Nats nodded enthusiastically. ‘Don’t know the deets but she wrote some notes on this counting machine Charles Babbage invented. Credited with writing the first computer program.’
‘It’ll be exciting to play her.’
‘You bet! There’s this scene in her London house where she hosts Babbage and Charles Dickens! At Christmas. Can you imagine it all? Huge Christmas tree, those gorgeous, gorgeous silk dresses, all the men in those sexy tight trousers and sideburns. Snow. Horses and carriages. Just like something off a Christmas card. Maybe your Adela was there too?’
Livvy smiled. Nats was garrulous and slightly drunk. ‘Not sure if Adela packed quite as much into her life as Ada Lovelace. Did a Grand Tour, owned a big house, lived a long time.’
‘Amazing women at a time when women’s only role was to marry and bear children. You and I wouldn’t be tolerated, Livvy,’Nats said, her glass of mulled wine slopping dangerously. ‘No man in sight, no marriage, no children, careers of our own.’ She giggled. ‘We’d be considered wanton, you the owner of an inn, me an actress! One step short of being scarlet women.’
‘Stop boring Livvy,’ Mark put in.
‘She’s not,’ Livvy answered. ‘You’re really not, Nats. It’s just that your world is so different from the one I inhabit, that it’s hard to imagine.’
‘You can say that again, sweetie,’ Simona piped up. She slid her shoes off and massaged Angel’s furry flank with her toes. The dog huffed out a sigh of ecstasy. ‘I wouldn’t mind being in the glam world of acting. The parties, darling, the delicious men!’
‘Now you’ve gone and done it, Simona,’ Mark groaned.
‘What have I said?’
‘Actors,’ Nats tutted. ‘Every last one of them self-obsessed and narcissistic. How long have you got, Simona? I will give out divers schedules.’
‘You what, sweetie?’
‘Stop being pompous, Nats,’ Mark scolded. ‘She’s quotingTwelfth Night,’ he explained. ‘And misquoting it at that.’
Nats shot him a look. ‘“She never told her love, but concealment, like a worm i th’ bud, feed on her damask cheek.” More accurate, bro?’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Shut it, Nats.’
Simona emptied the jug of mulled wine into their glasses. ‘Do tell, darling. I mean about the self-obsessed and narcissistic actors.’
‘Well, I had one actor boyfriend who lived his role.Allthe time,’ Nats began, lurching closer to Simona. She giggled. ‘Which was okay except he was playing a bloke who got his sexual kicks out of pretending to be a cat. He even coughed up fur balls…’
