Page 6 of A Christmas Celebration
‘I’m up to speed with what needs doing,’ said Archie, ‘but all the time I’m doing it I’m not getting on with my own work.’
‘In that case,’ I said, picking my cutlery up again and scooping up a forkful of buttery carrot and parsnip mash, ‘you’ll have to pass your knowledge on to me, Archie. I should be able to pick it up, shouldn’t I?’
I cared very much about the fabric of the beautiful hall and wouldn’t be doing a slapdash job like a regular and time-short Mr or Mrs Mop might have settled for.
‘It would be wonderful if you could,’ Archie gratefully said. ‘And if I can manage it, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to.’
‘And what about the Winter Wonderland?’ I asked next. ‘Are you going to need help with that? I’m guessing from what I’ve been told, it’s quite an undertaking.’
I knew there was a trail around the woods for visitors to walk, a variety of seasonal activities to get stuck into, sleigh rides, a Santa’s grotto, visiting reindeers and owls, carol singers and a huge variety of festive food and drink as well as some spectacularly decorated trees to admire. The entire weekend was full of fabulous festive delights and even though it was still a few weeks away, doubtless took a lot of planning and implementing.
‘Mick and I sort the logistics and do some of the setting up,’ Angus told me. ‘But Jamie and Gabe generally provide a bit of muscle, along with Archie.’
‘Just as well I keep myself fit then.’ I grinned. ‘Muscle I can definitely manage.’
‘If you finish your dinner, you’ll have even more heft to offer,’ Dorothy put in, capitalizing on the moment.
‘I’ve got mates in town who will help out too,’ said Archie. ‘To be honest, I think the Wonderland will be fine. It was Anna and Hayley’s roles we were really struggling to fill.’
‘But not anymore,’ smiled Molly.
‘No,’ I smiled back, already grateful for the timely distractions. ‘Not anymore.’
Chapter 3
It wasn’t long after dinner before I made my excuses and went to bed. With a fuller tummy than usual and thoughts of a soak in the Rose Room tub swirling around my head, I was feeling drowsy again in no time and hopeful that my sleep would be dreamless rather than filled with the gruesomely blown-up replay of my mistake that it usually succumbed to. The reality had been dreadful enough to endure but my dream state seemed to relish making it all so much worse and restful sleep had been nigh on impossible to come by of late.
‘Why don’t you come over to the cottage in the morning?’ Molly had suggested before I headed up the wooden hill. ‘We can have a proper chat.’
I accepted her invitation but reluctantly. I was delighted to reform our friendship, but knew that spending time alone with her, especially so soon after my arrival and before I’d had a chance to put some distance between me and leaving the camp, could well lead to me revealing more than I yet wanted anyone to know.
‘And take this,’ Molly had further said, pressing a small cork-topped phial filled with pink liquid into my hands. ‘It’ll help.’
‘I’m not drinking this, Molly,’ I firmly said, assuming it was one of her potions.
‘Good,’ she laughed. ‘It’s for your bath.’
‘Oh,’ I said, feeling my face flush. ‘In that case, thank you.’
I ran myself the deepest bath, pouring the contents of the flowery scented liquid into the steamy stream of water. It mixed seamlessly and created a pleasing amount of bubbles, the soothing scents of lavender, chamomile and something sweet I couldn’t identify filling the room and helping me to further relax. I had no idea of the exact ingredients, but whatever had been in that little bottle gifted me a night of deep, mercifully dreamless sleep and I woke feeling refreshed, revived and surprisingly raring to go.
‘Just a sec,’ I called, pushing back the covers as someone knocked on the door a few minutes after I was awake. ‘Hold on.’
I realized, as I turned the ancient metal key in the lock, that the sound hadn’t actually been a knock, more of a scratch, which was explained when I opened the door and found Bran, the ginormous wolfhound, standing in the corridor. He loped into the room, hopped on to the sofa and stared at me from under his big shaggy brows. He really was too huge to be believed and would have been impossible to usher out.
‘Well,’ I therefore said as I closed the door again. ‘Good morning to you, too. Make yourself at home, why don’t you?’
He patiently waited while I got dressed, pulling on as many layers as I could manage because I was still feeling the cold, and tied up my hair and, together, we went down to breakfast.
‘Here you are,’ said Dorothy, rubbing the top of Bran’s head.
‘I didn’t dognap him,’ I told her. ‘He just turned up at the bedroom door, nosed his way in and then refused to budge.’
‘Well,’ she said, offering me the teapot, ‘that’s interesting, isn’t it?’
Mick shook his head.
‘Is it?’ I frowned, pouring myself a mug.
