What Happens At Christmas... (11 page)

They passed the village green and headed up the lane. From this height she could easily see over the stone wall beside them right onto the tees and fairways of the golf course beyond. The grass was immaculately mown and the greens like mirrors. Four middle-aged men were waiting to tee off, one even wearing old-fashioned plus four breeches. Specimen trees dotted the course, some of them quite evidently hundreds of years old. Presumably, prior to becoming a golf course, this had been the park around a stately home. She strained her eyes for a glimpse of the house, but all she saw were more trees, a lake with an island in the middle of it and, beyond the confines of the park, bare, open moorland. Beside her, Justin was still thinking about her job.

‘And do your employers know you're so good at your job?'

‘I rather think they do. They pay me shed loads of money so that must mean something.'

He nodded. ‘And couldn't you do it from down here? More and more people are working from home these days. Or are you out and about all the time?'

Holly had to think about that one. ‘I suppose I probably could, if I had to. Just about all my time's spent in the office these days. If a visit's needed, I've got people who do that for me.' She went on to give him a brief description of what she did and how her engineering qualifications and experience were so important in calculating insurance risk.

‘Sounds like they wouldn't want to lose you. So, think about it, stay here and make us all happy.' He caught her eye. ‘I'm sure that's what your dad would have wanted.'

Holly sat back and thought about it. Yes, Brookford was a lovely little place and she had met some very nice people so far, but would she want to live here full time? That, she thought to herself, would depend very much on the person with whom she might be living. She shot a glance across at Justin as he was looking away from her and wondered idly if she might want to live with him. Almost as soon as the thought had come, she squashed it.
Let's see how I feel after three dates.
Maybe Julia wasn't wrong about her after all. Besides, she wasn't totally sure yet that this was a date. Maybe he was taking her to meet his wife…

The Castle was a splendid Victorian building, built in the Gothic style and set in grounds so vast that the drive alone must have been over a mile long. Spectacular trees rose up on both sides and huge clumps of rhododendrons would, no doubt, provide a wonderful display in the spring and summer. Justin parked right outside the main building and a porter in a spotless white shirt with a red and gold waistcoat ushered them into a magnificent panelled hall. In the middle of the room was just about the biggest Christmas tree Holly had ever seen outside of Trafalgar Square. The room itself was well over fifteen metres high and yet the tree almost touched the ceiling.

‘Tradition dictates that the tree is always at least fifty feet high.' Clearly, Justin was enjoying acting as her guide and watching her reaction.

‘As an engineer, I've been wondering how they got it in through the revolving doors.' The tree was festooned with silver and gold baubles, tinsel and lights, and decorating it must have involved some serious scaffolding. Holly caught his eye and smiled. ‘I also wonder what this has done to the hotel's insurance premiums.'

‘Spoken like a true professional.'

‘Well, whichever way you look at it, that's one hell of a tree.'

Justin smiled and she walked with him into the dining room. This, too, was magnificent. The immaculate headwaiter accompanied them to a table for two, looking out over a formal garden with perfectly trimmed box hedges, stylish statues, and a central fountain that looked like it had come from the palace of Versailles. Although it was still only mid-afternoon, the sky was overcast, and the water was already illuminated with green and yellow lights. As she sat down, the waiter gently pushed her chair in for her. Seconds later he picked up her napkin, shook it open and laid it on her lap. She gave him a smile and he nodded regally before doing the same for Justin and then withdrawing.

Holly looked across the table and caught Justin looking at her. ‘What a place!' For a moment she thought about asking him if he often brought girls here, but she decided against it. Somehow she rather thought he did. Certainly he seemed very familiar with the surroundings. And the surroundings were magical, with wood panelling all around the room, stone mullions at the windows and intricate plasterwork on the ceiling. Christmas decorations in here were very stylish – white and gold ribbons and balls, along with holly, ivy and pine branches. In the middle of the room stood a grand piano, half concealed under a mass of Christmas decorations. A distinguished-looking old man with a shiny bald head was playing a medley of film tunes, just loud enough to be audible, but not loud enough to be intrusive. The other guests were a mixture of adults and children, all remarkably well behaved.

Justin had the menu in his hands. ‘They offer traditional high tea or champagne high tea. As it's Christmas, shall we go for the champers?'

Holly nodded and smiled. ‘I've got nothing against tea, but there's something so special about champagne.' Justin called the waiter over and placed the order. Then he turned back to Holly and gave her an appraising look.

‘Well if they were giving out prizes for who's got the most beautiful girl with him, I'd win hands down.'

Holly inclined her head towards him in finest Regency style. ‘Why thank you, kind sir.' She grinned. ‘And you scrub up pretty well yourself.' As usual, he was looking very smart.

‘So, how's it going with the clear up in your dad's house? It can't be easy, having to sift through all his stuff. You must keep finding things that bring back so many memories.' He suddenly realised what he had said. ‘But, of course, you don't really have those memories as far as your dad's concerned, do you?'

Holly shook her head. ‘Of course, you know the story, don't you? Pretty much everybody in the village seems to know it. He just disappeared from my life and never bothered to make contact again.' She dropped her head. The afternoon had been going so well up till then.

‘I wouldn't be so sure about that, Holly. Maybe when he was in Australia he couldn't stay in contact, but I'm sure he must have tried when he came back here. Didn't your mother say anything?' He had a thought. ‘My father might remember. He and George were great friends until my dad went off to South Africa to live. I'll give him a ring one of these days and ask him.'

At that moment two waitresses appeared with a trolley and they both sat back. The girls began piling more food onto the table than Holly had eaten in the past week. There were scones, clotted cream, four types of jam, gorgeous homemade biscuits, no fewer than three different types of cake, éclairs, little sandwiches, some on brown bread, some on white, naturally with the crusts cut off. These were filled with cucumber, smoked salmon, or roast beef and horseradish sauce. In deference to the season, there were also two slices of Christmas cake with thick icing, studded with little silver balls. A wine waiter brought a bottle of champagne, opened it with only the slightest hiss, set it in an ice bucket on an elaborate stand beside Justin and laid a pristine white cloth across the top. The staff all bowed and withdrew, leaving Holly wondering how on earth they were going to be able to eat even a fraction of what was on the table.

‘Bloody hell, Justin, what a spread!' She immediately rather regretted not saying ‘gadzooks' or ‘upon my word', rather than ‘bloody hell'. It was that sort of place.

‘We'll let the champagne sit for a moment, shall we?' Holly nodded. She couldn't help thinking that he looked completely at home in these fine surroundings. He gave her a smile. ‘I'm sorry for the interruption. I was asking you about your mother.'

Holly had been doing a lot of thinking about her mother over the past couple of weeks. As she heard more and more about her lovely, generous father who had apparently been adored by all around him, the suspicion had started to form in her mind that maybe her mother had lied to her about him – all her life. It was a difficult concept to handle. Her mum had been there for her all through her life and she owed her so much. She had certainly been an inflexible character and they hadn't always got on, but there had never been any doubt as to the love they bore for each other. The idea that Holly had been deliberately tricked into hating her own father by her mother stuck in the throat. She looked at Justin across the monumental pile of food on the table and did her best to be objective.

‘I loved my mum, you know. She brought me up single-handed and it can't have been easy.' She caught his eye. ‘And I was a real pain all the way through school. It was easy for me to blame it all on my not having a dad, but other girls were in the same boat and they didn't rebel half as much as I did.' She saw the disbelief on his face. ‘It's true; I may sound like Alice in Wonderland now, but I was Attila the Hun for a good few years.'

‘I see you more as Sleeping Beauty.' He was smiling, doing his best to put her at her ease after inadvertently opening a potential can of worms with his question.

‘Are you trying to imply that I look dozy?' She managed a smile in return. ‘If my dad did try to contact me, and my mum didn't tell me about it, I know it must have been because she wanted to protect me. Rightly or wrongly, she was convinced he was a bad lot and a bad influence, so she did her best to shut him out of both our lives. It seems harsh when you look at it from his point of view, but she must have had her reasons.'

He was looking more serious now. ‘Break-ups are tough, especially when there are children involved. I'm only glad my wife and I didn't have kids.'

Her eyes inadvertently slid down to his wedding ring. ‘You were married?'

‘For ten years. Still am, just. I suppose it'll have to go to the lawyers any day now.'

‘I'm so sorry.'

He shrugged, but she could see the effort it cost him to look nonchalant. ‘I think I've got over the worst of it, but it came as a real shock at the time.' He pulled himself together and pointed towards the food. ‘Hungry?'

Holly filed away the information that the separation had, by the sound of it, been caused by his wife, rather than by him. Somehow, she had rather assumed that a handsome man like him might have been the guilty party. And there was no doubt at all that he was a handsome man; handsome, sophisticated and urbane. She looked back across the table, liking what she saw, and that wasn't just the food. At the same time she found herself wondering, not for the first time, just what this was. Was it a date? Was he trying to get over his wife's departure and move on with another woman? Or was he simply taking her out for tea because she was the daughter of one of his father's best friends? Or was it neither of those things? She decided the best thing to do was to concentrate on the feast laid out in front of her. She gave him a smile.

‘I don't really know where to start. I'm afraid I'm a high tea virgin. Is there an etiquette to this sort of thing? You know, scones first, éclairs afterwards or something like that?'

He was smiling again. ‘Just dig in, I think. Of course, there is a bit of debate over whether you put the cream on your scone before the jam or vice versa, but I'm not a purist. Eat what you want, how you want, and in the order you want. Now, let's have some champagne.' As he reached for the bottle, the wine waiter materialised from behind a nearby Christmas decoration, filled both glasses and then disappeared as silently as he had come. Holly nodded appreciatively, reflecting to herself that rural Devon was surprisingly sophisticated, as was her companion.

Holly raised her glass towards Justin. ‘Thank you for a very special afternoon out, Justin. Cheers.' She leant forward and clinked her glass against his over the top of the chocolate éclairs.

‘And thank you, Holly, for being such a charming guest.' All terribly formal, but then so was he and here, in these surroundings, it seemed appropriate.

The meal, for that was what it was, rather than a mid-afternoon snack, lasted almost an hour. During that time they talked a lot and she learnt more about her father. She also heard Justin refer repeatedly to his wife and the fact that she had gone off. He also told Holly about his hobby of sailing and his love of the islands of the Aegean and, after her third glass of champagne, Holly found herself imagining him on the deck of a fine yacht, clad only in a pair of shorts, with her lying in the sun beside him in her skimpiest bikini. It was an alluring picture.

It was pitch dark by the time they left. As they got into the car, she reached across and touched his arm. ‘Thank you, Justin. That was amazing.'

‘Thank you, Holly. We always used to love coming here.' She noted his use of the first person plural and knew he must still be thinking of his wife. And, from his tone, he clearly still had feelings for her, in spite of her deciding to leave him. The image of the yacht and the bikini dissolved as she realised she would do well to treat this afternoon as tea with a friend, rather than anything with any romantic involvement. Handsome and charming he most certainly was, but you didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to see that he was still missing his wife.

When they got back to her house, he jumped out of the car and came round to open the car door for her. She swung her legs out and slid down to the ground.

‘Thank you again, Justin. That was a real treat.'

‘You're very welcome. Bye, Holly.'

She kissed him on both cheeks and waited as he turned the big vehicle and set off up the road again until the tail lights finally disappeared round the corner after the green. Her mind was working overtime. She had enjoyed being with him immensely. The plush surroundings of the Castle had reminded her of similar episodes she had enjoyed with previous boyfriends in wildly expensive London clubs and restaurants. She had always enjoyed dressing up in her smartest clothes – particularly, she admitted to herself, her best shoes – and she had loved the glitter and opulence of that sort of place. Now, standing outside a granite cottage in a little Devon village with a faint, but unmistakable smell of cow shit in the air, she started to question her previous life. Were places like the Castle or men like Justin what she really wanted? Was all that maybe a bit phoney? And anyway, she thought to herself, it was looking pretty clear that Justin still hadn't got over his wife so, even if she had wanted to take things further with him, that wasn't likely to happen.