7

The telephone woke her just past eight and Amelia stretched her hand out to answer it.

‘Hi, Mum, it’s me. Happy Christmas.’ It was her elder daughter, Grania, in India.

‘Happy Christmas. So lovely to hear you, darling. How’s it all going?’ Apart from a couple of texts and a stream of photos, she had not heard from Grania for a while. She sat up in bed, pulling her blankets around her, listening to her babbling away about the wonderful things she was seeing and the fascinating people she was meeting.

‘So, what are you doing today, Mum?’ Grania asked, sounding slightly worried.

‘I’ve been asked to a lunch party by a small boy, the son of the vet I had to call out when I thought one of the tortoises had died.’ She explained to her what had happened. She’d posted a couple of pictures of the animals to her, having told Grania she was animal-sitting.

‘Sounds fun and good to get to know more of the locals.’ Grania went on to ask how she was getting on with the rest of the animals.

‘Well, Osbert is in my room, he’s looking rather annoyed at being woken up.’ She laughed. ‘He’s very snooty, cut above the rest of us.’

‘I wish I was there.’ Grania sounded wistful, before perking up again. ‘Well, maybe you’ll be in demand again next Christmas and I can see them all then,’ she said cheerfully.

She’d barely rung off when the phone went again and this time it was Sophie. Amelia’s heart sank, sensing that something was wrong.

‘Happy Christmas, Mum. I wish I was at home with you.’ Sophie sounded bleak.

‘You will be in a few days, darling.’ Amelia braced herself to hear a litany of grumbles. When Grania called she’d admitted that she missed her, missed being at home at this special time, though she was making the most of being in another country, enjoying the culture and making new friends. Sophie was two years younger than her sister, and it seemed had already decided upon the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Or would she now change her mind, after spending so much time with his family?

‘We don’t have anything to eat until the great feast in the evening, nor do we open any presents until then either. It seems we just drink all day. Paul, Dom’s dad, has started already.’

‘But surely you can have breakfast?’ Amelia felt rather exasperated at Sophie’s mood on Christmas Day. It made her feel that she and Dom, whom she’d always liked, were perhaps not really compatible, or ready for marriage.

There were so many hurdles to jump in a relationship. Two people could love each other deeply but other people – usually family members from both sides – could tear holes in it, even destroy it.

‘Well yes, sort of. But the weather is terrible, it’s almost black outside, pouring with rain, so we’re all stuck inside together. Dom says he’s going to stay in bed until this evening and his sister’s boyfriend, I told you about, is making revolting remarks to me. I’ve told him if he were the last man standing, I’d have nothing to do with him, but he just laughs. Honestly, Mum, I’m tempted to just run away.’

‘I’m sorry, darling, I don’t know what to say. You can’t run away as there will be no trains and anyway, don’t they live in the depth of the country? You’ll get lost on the moors or something.’ She attempted to tease her out of her mood. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed yourself with a good book? Is Dom with you?’ Amelia wondered where she was talking from, if it was blowing a gale outside.

‘No, I told you, we’re not in the same room. His mother doesn’t agree with that until we are married.’

‘Yes, I forgot.’ Amelia found this a complicated situation herself. Talking it over with her friends, she’d found some, like her, didn’t mind if their children – if they were eighteen and so adults – shared a room with their boy/girlfriend, if they were in a secure relationship with them. Other friends were very laidback about it, leaving it to their children to decide whom to share their bed with. Dom’s mother felt the way she did about it so, as she explained to Sophie, she must respect their house rules.

When Sophie had rung off, Amelia was left with the lurid picture of her daughter being circled by Dom’s sister’s supposed boyfriend and his drunken father, though fortunately she assumed Dom would be there for her.

Later, having taken Ziggy for a walk, let Cleo fly round the dining room, and fed all the other animals, she set out for her lunch party. She was bringing, as instructed, a plate of canapes. Small circles of pitta bread with cream cheese, topped with smoked salmon and a tiny sprinkling of finely chopped parsley and red pepper, and a bottle of Jamie and Wilfred’s champagne as a present.

She put the address of the house in the Satnav and she set off. It was a cold, crisp day, a thin sun touching the hedgerows with glimpses of red berries perking them up. She went a route she’d never taken before, down a small winding road, dark with trees either side of her, their bare branches meeting in the middle, so when the leaves were out, she imagined it would be like driving through a green tunnel. The road then opened onto farmland and a long clear road over a hill and then suddenly she’d arrived. She turned into a drive scattered with cars in front of a large, timber-framed, typical Suffolk house with a dark blue front door and two Christmas trees lit with strings of golden lights, either side of it.

The door of a car that had just pulled up before her opened and a blonde woman dressed in a leather coat and carrying a picnic basket got out, turning disdainfully to look at her, making Amelia feel she was being given the once over.

Amelia parked beside her and got out, smiling at her politely, assuming she was a fellow guest. The woman tossed her a superior look before making for the front door. She opened it and went in, leaving it ajar. Amelia picked up her plate of canapés and the bottle of champagne and followed her rather shyly into a large hall. There was a fire burning and crackling in the grate and strings of ivy leaves and red-berried holly woven into red and green ribbons decorating the pictures on the walls.

‘How beautiful this room is,’ Amelia said to the woman who’d come in just before her. She didn’t answer, seeming more intent on taking off her coat and hanging it on a rail among some others, before examining herself in a round mirror framed in a dark, wood frame.

Not quite knowing what to do, Amelia put down the champagne and her plate of canapés while she took off her coat. She was relieved to see Dickon bounding into the hall.

‘Oh, good, you’ve come. Did you bring any of the animals with you?’

‘No, they are much happier left behind, they wouldn’t know anyone here,’ she said, noticing that the woman took little notice of Dickon and he took none of her.

‘They’d know me and Dad,’ he said before going on. ‘Would you like to see Luna, my gecko? He’s in a room off the kitchen, he has to keep warm.’

The other woman had swept away, and they could hear her greeting people. Someone said, ‘Oh, Cynthia, good to see you.’

Amelia suspected that she was the imperious woman she’d spoken to on the phone about the tortoise.

Dickon said, ‘So let me show you Luna. He’s next to the kitchen.’ He took her arm to lead her there.

She said, ‘I’d love to see him only I think I ought to say hello to your uncle and Dad first, and get rid of this plate and bottle, don’t you?’

Before Dickon could answer Jules appeared. ‘Happy Christmas, Amelia, so good to see you. Now come in and meet everyone. Oh, how delicious your canapés look.’ He gestured to the plate she had brought with her.

‘Thank you.’ She handed the plate and the bottle of champagne to him.

‘So, kind of you, Amelia, we’ll enjoy them.’ He took them from her.

Dickon said, ‘She’s just going to come and see Luna.’

Jules threw her a glance. ‘Well, let her come in and meet people and have a drink first, then I’m sure she’d like to see him.’

‘O… kay.’ Dickon sounded a little disappointed and Amelia rather wished she could escape with Dickon instead of facing a group of people she didn’t know.

‘I’d love to see him soon, something to look forward to.’ She touched his arm, before following Jules out of the hall along a short passage and into a large room filled with people. She saw Cynthia look their way before she crossed the room beaming, making straight for Jules.

‘Jules, happy Christmas.’ She kissed him on both cheeks, her hand resting on his shoulder as if she was tethering him to her.

‘Happy Christmas, Cynthia.’ He returned her kiss before saying, ‘This is Amelia Meredith. She, like me, is new to the district and I think you spoke to each other over the phone about a sick tortoise.’ He turned to Amelia and she saw the amusement in his eyes.

‘Oh, yes I remember,’ Cynthia said in a bored voice, eyeing up the plate of Amelia’s canapés in his hand with disdain. ‘So, Jules,’ she now moved her hand to his arm as if to keep his attention, her gaze warm on his face, ‘I’ve accepted an invitation for us both to go to a New Year’s Eve party over at—’

His face clouded, ‘Oh, well wait and see, Cynthia. There are a few things in the offing for that evening and anyway I might stay here with my uncle and Dickon and celebrate with them.’

‘But it’s New Year! It’s open house, bring Giles and Leonora too,’ she protested, pouting at him.

She did not mention Dickon, Amelia noticed. Who would look after him if they all went out?

‘Let’s see. Now Amelia,’ he smiled at her, ‘come and meet my uncle whose house this is, and this is Leonora, my uncle’s partner – at the moment anyway,’ he added sotto voce, as a small, bird-like woman dressed in a cloud of lilac came over to them and clamped her hand on his arm, the other holding an empty champagne glass.

‘I think we are running out of champagne, darling,’ she said conspiratorially. Then turning to Amelia, she said, ‘And this poor woman hasn’t even got a glass in her hand, which is a dreadful state of affairs at a party.’