A Proper Family Christmas (18 page)

“Oh no, - that's okay.” Frances remembered with some guilt her reluctance to let the frightening apparition into the house.

“I bet he was boring the pants off you, wasn't he? God knows what persuaded him to come down to Haseley! It certainly won't have been Mum's doing, whatever Julia says. She finds him just as much of a pain as the rest of us, - more really, because he quite obviously fancies her. Do you think that's why he came..?”

“Would you like a banana with it, Tobias?” said Lesley, finding an excuse to nip this interesting conversation in the bud. “I'm sure that would help it down. …Perhaps you could fetch him one, Nanny, if you've finished gossiping.”

“Oh, but she hasn't started yet!” objected Daniel. “I'm just giving her the opening, so she can reveal what she really thinks about us all. Aren't you longing to know?”

“There are some in the fruit-bowl, if you don't mind. …I'm afraid she has a job to do, Daniel.”

Frances passed a banana that Lesley could easily have reached herself, and watched her peel it and ‘take all the nasty black bits out' at Tobias's direction, before slicing it into his muesli. Was Daniel really interested in her opinions, - or was it just a way of teasing Lesley? She had to admit that this seemed the more likely.

“Good lord! …What have you got there?”

Posy was settling herself down at the table beside them, bringing with her an enormous packet she must have found in one of the cupboards.

Tobias's mouth dropped in jealousy. “I want
tho-ose
for my breakfast!!”

Lesley and Stephen shot round to see what had caused the outcry, and were in time to see Posy reach for a bowl and pour herself a good helping of cocoa-pops.

“Oh my God, she's found some of that awful junk your father lives on!”

“I wa-an't…!”

“No you don't, pet. One more mouthful of nice muesli for Mummy!”

The door opened and Shelley came in, still looking half asleep. “Mornin' all! What you got there, Pose? Cor blimey it's early..!” She started to give a huge yawn, - and at that moment spotted the stranger sitting beside Frances at the table. She stood there, eyes goggling, forgetting to shut her mouth.

A second later she was beside them, swinging out a chair that had its back set to Frances and its front so as to almost interlock her legs with Daniel's. “Hel-
lo
there! Don't think I've seen you before, have I? Are you one of Julia's cousins come to stay as well? …Oh, that's brilliant! Someone to knock around with at last. Everyone else round here is either a kid or geriatric!”

Frances might well have been invisible. She couldn't help admiring Shelley's technique. With little wriggles that hitched her short skirt even higher, leaning forward to make the most of her low-cut top, and totally impervious to Stephen and Lesley's disapproving frowns, she dropped Julia and Tony's names into the conversation as family friends for whom she worked as a favour, while dismissing Frances herself as “Tobias's new nanny. - Only been with them a few days.”

Frances's heart sank as she watched her. Never in a million years could she have approached a guy in that up-front way, - particularly somebody she fancied, but Shelley seemed to have no fear of rejection. Frances could only envy her uninhibited confidence in her power to attract, and wish that the usually lively Daniel wasn't staring at her as one bewitched.

“Here we all are. Good morning, darlings!” Julia and Tony breezed in.

“Oh good, a fry-up!” Tony marched straight to the pan.

“Hello sweetheart, I see you've found some breakfast.”Julia kissed her daughter, making a face of sympathetic disgust as she caught sight of Tobias's bowl. “Oh, how horrid! Wouldn't you rather have cocoa-pops, darling?”

“Who's for an egg?” said Tony. “Come on, Shell. I know you're always up for a bit of protein!”

Shelley giggled and glanced at Daniel, who woke from his trance.

“Not for me, thanks, I've eaten. …And I think I'd better go and check on Uncle William.” Suddenly he wasn't there. Frances and Shelley caught each other looking wistfully at the door.

As usual, things cheered up with the Britwells around, and Tony was soon handing round a plate piled high with delicious cholesterol.

“So who's coming shopping this morning?” said Julia, when everyone except Lesley was tucking in to fried bread.

“Me, me!” said Posy, banging her spoon on her bowl.

“Me!” echoed Tobias, picking up a knife to imitate her.

Lesley snatched it quickly. “No, darling, you're not shopping. We're going to the Museum instead.”

He turned to her doubtfully. “Do I like Museums?”

“Museums are
boring
!” Posy informed him. “They're full of old stuff used by dead people, and you're not allowed to touch. …
I'm
going shopping for lots of presents for me!”

“Of course you like museums, Tobias!” said Stephen, frowning at his niece. “Remember that book you've got about the Romans? A lot of them lived here in the Cotswolds. If I remember rightly, there are some very nice reconstructions of villa buildings at Cirencester, complete with well-preserved mosaic floors.”

“You'll enjoy seeing all the nice Roman things with Mummy and Daddy,” Lesley cut in, before Stephen could launch too thoroughly into lecturer mode.

“Is Frances going?”

They turned to look at her. Frances could see Lesley weighing up a reluctance to let her escape any duty against the fact that she and Stephen didn't necessarily want her with them, and something told her she was waiting to see which option Frances would least prefer herself.

So what did she want to do? Trail round a museum with the Shirburns, or check out the Cirencester shops with the Britwells, and possibly Daniel as well, where one could probably get a signal for the mobile? - No contest!

All she had to do was to look eager.

“No, I think perhaps we'll make this a family occasion.” Lesley rose to the bait. “In fact why don't we ask your father to come?” she added to Stephen. “It would be nice for him to spend some quality time with Tobias.”

“Oh, of course Daddy must come to Cirencester!” exclaimed Julia. “I bet he hasn't got presents for anybody. We'll make him do his Christmas shopping.”

“Yes, yes! Grandad must come!” Posy got the import of this.

“Oh, - I'm sure he'd rather go to the Museum with us,” said Lesley, with an anxious glance at her husband. “William's not all that fond of shopping, is he, Stephen?”

“If he's fond of museums, it's the first I've heard of it!” said his daughter dryly.

“It'll be such a squash for him in your car, and there'll be plenty of room in ours now, as Frances isn't going.”

Frances's mouth dropped. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd contrived to be left behind altogether!

“No problem fitting him into the Discovery either,” Tony pointed out. “Shelley doesn't mind a bit of a squeeze in the back seat, do you?” he added with a suggestive leer that made her giggle.

They were still arguing politely when Margery Watlington came back, dressed ready to go out, and her opinion was immediately sought on whether her brother would prefer Christmas shopping or Culture.

Her answer pleased nobody.

“Good lord, no! Children have far too much rubbish at Christmas, without people buying more for them. And he certainly won't want to visit a dreary old museum! Anyway, William's not going anywhere. Hilary wants to go to Slimbridge now, so he's got to stay and show Oliver round the house.”

CHAPTER 12

Back in her room, getting ready for an expedition she didn't in the least want to go on, Hilary wondered how, yet again, she'd managed to let herself be bulldozed by Margery. Yes, she had been momentarily unnerved when Oliver had reminded her of last night's promise, - but only because, with Daniel there, she had slipped back into being that other person, his mother: sensible, reliable, and so steadfastly attached to his late father that there was no question of her ever having feelings for another man.

The next moment common sense had told her that of course Daniel wouldn't see it as a betrayal if she spent the morning showing Oliver round Haseley! - It wasn't as if they were going to leap into one of the beds or something. She'd only met the man yesterday, for God's sake, and she'd no reason to suppose that the frisson of attraction was on anything but her side. But by then Margery had come charging in to her rescue, and like a well-meaning whirlwind, swept up all her plans and rearranged them before she'd had time to draw breath.

Damn! She hadn't the slightest desire to visit the reserve at Slimbridge. Pleasant enough in the summer, but Margery must have forgotten how cold it would be on the Severn estuary at this time of year. She put on thick tights, jeans and a big knitted jersey, hoping to strike a balance between keeping off hypothermia and looking vaguely respectable, and left the bedroom still feeling grumpy.

To her embarrassment, she found Oliver emerging from his room at the same time.

“Oh - God! …I thought you said you were going to find William.”

His face dropped, and she realised she'd sounded curt. - If only he wouldn't keep taking her by surprise!

“Yes, I know,” he said sheepishly, “but I'm afraid my nerve failed me. Much as I love Margery, she doesn't quite understand that one can't really march in and start ordering one's host about as if he was a younger brother. I thought perhaps I'd look round on my own.”

“Well you mustn't miss the linen-cupboard, in that case. - I'll show you.” Hilary led the way down the passage. “…The trouble with Margery is that she's a pathological organiser, and she can't always be made to realise that people don't necessarily want to do what she's arranged for them.”

“That came from the heart!” He'd noticed her sigh. “Do I gather you're not that keen on visiting this bird place?”

“Not in the slightest! If I have to go out, I'd rather shop in Cirencester with the others. At least the shops'll be warm.”

“But you didn't really want to go at all?”

“Well I had actually planned to take you round the house. There are bits even William's forgotten about, or he wouldn't think to point out. …Look at this amazing cupboard. There's a hatch at the top, so that the maid could throw clean towels down without having to compromise anyone's modesty.”

“That's what I call gracious living! The whole bathroom's fabulous, especially that wonderful bath. …Good God, is that an original Crapper?”

“You mean the loo? It
can't
have been called that!”

“Oh yes,” he grinned. “Old Thomas Crapper was a pioneer of sanitary ware. …I wonder when this system was installed. One could do with a look at the tanks, but I suppose they're in the roof space.”

“There's a tank in one of the attic cupboards,” Hilary recalled. “It makes the most unearthly noise if anyone flushes the loo in the night, I can tell you from bitter experience!”

“Oh great! Do you mind if we…?”

“No, of course not, - if I can remember which one it was…”

Meanwhile, William was making his own plans for the day.

He and Kath were in the sitting-room, following their usual routine of her pretending to clean while she had a moan, and him pretending to read the paper. However this morning she had an additional listener, and ever since Daniel had come in, Kath had been taking full advantage of his politely sympathetic ear.

She was well away on the problems of What to do with the Children during the Holidays, when Leo appeared in the doorway.

“Would it have been too much to wake me? I gather that everyone's had breakfast, and there's nothing left in there now!”

“Sorry mate, but I got up hours ago, and you were sleeping like a baby.”

“Hullo, Mr. Watlington! I didn't know
you
were coming to join the party.”

Leo looked defensive, before realising that here was one person who apparently did not find the surprise unwelcome. Kath, for some reason unknown to William, held his nephew, ‘the writer', in great respect, and was simpering delightedly at the prospect of adding him to her audience.“I was just saying to young Daniel here, it's not easy, what with me having to work, and nobody to keep an eye on what those lads are up to. Things'd be different if their Dad was still at home, but of course, now that I'm all on my own…” She looked at him under her lashes to drive this point home. “It's so difficult finding something for kids to do, when they're not in school. …Don't get me wrong - they're lovely kids, but they can be a bit of a handful.”

“Yes, I remember!” said Daniel, with a little shudder. He'd had experience of Grime and Brine.

The childless Leo nodded wisely. “Modern children don't seem to have any inner resources of their own, which means that they need constant entertainment. Personally I blame the lack of intellectual stimulation in the home environment. So many parents think it acceptable to sit back and let the television do their work for them!”

“Yes, you don't like to leave them parked in front of the TV all day, do you?” William knew that's just what Kath
did
like to do, whenever she could get away with it. “Even though lots of those things are educational, - at least, they seem to have a fact sheet you can send for afterwards. …Not that my two would bother. Get enough of that stuff in school. They'd rather have a good cartoon, or one of those things with girls in.”

“We boys like those.” Daniel was trying to keep his face straight.

“There's far too much unsuitable programming on the box these days,” declared Leo, the man who claimed never to watch it. “And the Nine o'clock Watershed is a joke!”

“Oh yes, isn't it?” Kath probably thought he was talking about a comedy show. “I can tell that you're the sort of person who understands children, Mr. Watlington,” she told him, ignoring Daniel's derisive snort.