Page 120 of A Christmas Celebration
Exactly how long had he had this party idea in mind? He could have given me a heads up before.
‘You want me to plan a party, to be held here, on the twenty-third?’ I asked, just to be sure I’d heard him correctly.
‘That’s it,’ he confirmed.
I mulled it over and came to the surprising conclusion that it didn’t sound like too much of a stretch.
‘So, what do you think?’ he asked eagerly.
‘It should be doable,’ I tentatively said. ‘As long as you’re not expecting too much of an extravaganza.’
‘So, you’re willing to go ahead?’
‘I suppose,’ I said. ‘Yes, I’ll do it.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ he said, as he pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Oh,’ he then added, as if the next idea had just occurred to him, ‘and it might be nice if we could perhaps have some of Albert and Brodie’s paintings on display when it was happening.’
‘What?’
‘I was thinking that it might be the ideal opportunity to reveal the two newly discovered local artists to the world,’ he said, taking a step away from the table.
‘Oh, Angus,’ I tried to interrupt, but he carried on.
‘And as you’re the person who knows them the best,’ he wheedled, ‘I’m thrilled you and Brodie are now a couple by the way,andyou’re the person who’ll be organizing the celebration, you’re most conveniently placed to convince them that it’s a good idea.’
My mouth opened and closed like a trapdoor but no sound came out and Angus took advantage of my stunned silence and rushed out of the room and up to bed, leaving a trail of splashed cocoa in his wake.
Chapter 28
Having helped to set up the Winter Wonderland, admired the hall lights and fallen head over heels in love with the idea of Brodie and Albert living in the cottage together, I had thought the rest of the run up to Christmas was going to be plain sailing, but Angus’s late-night chat at the kitchen table had thrown everything into chaos.
Sleep was impossible to come by and when it was time to get up, rather than spring out of bed as I had imagined I would on this special and long anticipated day, I lay there, limp as a used dishrag and with a thousand jumbled thoughts flying around my head.
The Christmas celebration I could willingly get on board with, but creating an exhibition of Albert and Brodie’s art to run alongside it was going to be impossible to pull off. Brodie, having already publicly shared his work, might be easier to convince, although given his recent creative block even his acquiescence wasn’t a given, and as for Albert… the wordscomplete non-startersprang to mind.
‘Angus,’ I said, when I went down and fortuitously found him alone, ‘about the Christmas celebration.’
‘You’ve been thinking about that, have you?’ he beamed, sounding pleased. ‘Well, I suppose you should be, given that this time next week it will be the morning after!’
I didn’t want to acknowledge that. Even without the impossible exhibition element, it was still a very short amount of time in which to pull off a party. And being so close to Christmas made it all the more complicated. A truly stylish seasonal soiree should have been months in the making. I might have thought that it would distract me from stressing over post-Christmas plans when I said I’d do it, but at what cost?
‘And I did say that I want to keep it a complete secret from Catherine, didn’t I?’ Angus then added.
‘No,’ I said, thinking that it would make it even harder to get off the ground. ‘I’m pretty certain you didn’t mention that.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Well, if you can keep it from her, that would be great. Obviously, you’ll have to tell the rest of the family about it and I’ll give you a list of who to invite from further afield, but as far as the exhibition goes, that’s just for you, me, Albert and Brodie to know about until as close to the time as possible.’
I tried to think calming thoughts, take slow breaths in and out and count to ten but when faced with my self-assured godfather who nothing seemed to faze, it wasn’t easy.
‘Look,’ I said, before the moment was lost, ‘I think thecelebration is a fabulous idea, and I know you’ve got your heart set on the exhibition element of it, but there’s no way I’ll be able to talk Albert into it.’
Angus looked at me and shook his head.
‘I think you’re underestimating your capabilities, my dear.’ He smiled benignly.
‘I’m really not,’ I responded.
‘Albert has told me that when you turned up on his doorstep he was living in a cold house, surviving on tinned rations and had pretty much given up all thoughts of seeing another spring.’
