Christmas music played softly in the drawing room the next evening when the doorbell rang.
‘I wonder who that could be, and on Christmas Eve!’ Pen exclaimed as she set aside her glass of sherry and rose from her chair. ‘I’ll just go and see who it is.’
‘Perhaps it’s carollers,’ Gemma offered, and turned to Dominic. ‘Ooh, I’d love that! We should’ve got carollers to sing at our wedding tomorrow.’
‘If you had your way,’ Dominic grumbled, ‘the entire bloody heavenly host would sing at our wedding tomorrow.’
Gemma raised a brow. ‘Do you think they’re available on such short notice?’
‘For God’s sake, let one of the staff get the door, Mum,’ Caitlin said irritably, and took a sip of her drink. ‘That’s what they’re paid for, after all.’
‘Really, Caitlin,’ Wren admonished, ‘must you always be so difficult?’ She eyed the glass in the younger girl’s hand. ‘I do hope that’s not alcohol you’re drinking.’
‘It’s club soda,’ Caitlin snapped, ‘since you’re keeping track. And must you always be so judgmental?’
‘Ladies, please ‒ it’s Christmas eve,’ Tarquin chided. ‘Let’s put aside our differences for one evening. Surely we can all do that?’ He fixed a stern eye on his sister and wife in turn.
Grudgingly, as Natalie and Rhys joined them, the two women subsided into silence.
‘When are your mum and dad arriving, Dom?’ Natalie asked him as she accepted a glass of wine from Tarquin. ‘They are coming to the wedding, aren’t they?’
‘Wild dogs couldn’t keep Mum away tomorrow,’ he retorted. ‘She’s even more chuffed about this marriage than Gemma is. If such a thing is possible.’
‘What about Milo?’ Nat turned to Gemma. ‘Is your father coming?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. And he warned me he’s bringing a plus one. He was very mysterious about his new girlfriend.’ Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘I just hope Mum’s feathers don’t get ruffled when she sees dad with another woman.’
‘I’m sure your mum’s long since moved on,’ Natalie reassured her. ‘And you never know – she might bring along a plus one of her own!’
‘Oh, lord,’ Gemma groaned. ‘I hope not. Coping with one dating parent is hard enough, much less two.’
Conversation trailed away as voices approached the drawing room.
‘…so sorry to inconvenience you, Mrs Campbell, and on Christmas Eve, of all times…’
‘It’s no trouble, Lady Locksley,’ Pen assured Dominic’s mother. ‘We’ve plenty of rooms. Please, both of you, come in and sit down and join us for a drink.’
‘Thank you. The damned hotel was overbooked,’ Lord Locksley grumbled as he and his wife entered the drawing room. ‘I arranged the reservations over a month ago. After a miserable flight up here, and then dealing with that incompetent twit at the car hire counter in Aberdeen…’
‘I know just the one,’ Dominic muttered darkly.
‘It wasn’t the agent’s fault you forgot to hire a car, Charles,’ his wife reminded him. ‘We were lucky to get a car at all. The Fiat was all they had left,’ she informed Pen. ‘Poor Charles was twisted up behind the wheel like a Bavarian pretzel for the entire drive. It’s made him rather grouchy.’
‘Such a bother,’ Mrs Campbell clucked in sympathy. ‘Please, come in and sit down. I’m sorry my husband Archie isn’t back. He had some urgent business in London to attend to. I do hope he arrives in time for dinner.’
‘Gemma!’ Lady Mary exclaimed as she spotted her future daughter-in-law on the sofa. ‘Oh, my dear, you look lovely. You’ll make such a beautiful bride!’
A flurry of greetings and hugs followed as she enveloped first Gemma, then Dominic, Natalie, and Rhys in her Guerlain-scented arms. The introductions to Tarquin and Wren were barely made when the dogs set up a chorus of barking in the front hallway.
Pen glanced at Tarquin. ‘Do you suppose it’s Archie? Perhaps he’s forgotten his key.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Mrs Neeson called out as she emerged from the kitchens, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘It’s busier than Victoria Station in here this evening,’ she muttered, scowling.
The sound of voices drawing nearer and the skitter of dog’s toenails heralded new arrivals. ‘I still can’t believe the hotel was overbooked, after we called ahead, bloody inconvenient it is—’
Gemma paused in mid-sip and set her glass down abruptly. ‘Dad?’ she breathed, and half rose from the sofa.
Milo Astley looked up from the doorway. When he saw his daughter, his expression changed from a scowl into a huge grin. ‘Gems! Got a hug for your old dad?’
‘Of course I do! I’m so glad you made it,’ she exclaimed as he flung herself into his arms.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it,’ he declared. ‘It’s not every day my little girl gets married.’ He reached out and clapped Dominic on the shoulder. ‘You’d best take good care of her, mate. Or you’ll have me to answer to.’
‘No worries,’ Dominic assured him. ‘Spending the night in that dungeon made me realize how much I love Gemma.’
‘Dungeon?’ Milo echoed.
‘Dominic got himself locked in the dungeon and couldn’t get out,’ Gemma explained.
Milo scratched his head. ‘How in the hell did he manage that?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Dom replied, ‘and one I’d much rather revisit after a couple more whiskies.’
‘Tarquin found an old key ring hanging on one of the hooks,’ Gemma explained, ‘and he got Dominic out.’
‘Glad to hear you got sprung, Dom,’ Milo joked.
‘Not nearly as glad as I was, believe me.’
Gemma turned back to Milo. ‘So...where’s your mystery date, Dad?’
‘She’ll be along in a minute,’ he assured her. ‘Not to worry. Ah – as a matter of fact, here she is now.’
Gemma looked behind him to see Mrs Neeson standing at the door with another visitor hovering in her ample shadow. ‘Mrs Astley,’ the housekeeper announced, and took her leave.
‘Mum!’ Gemma cried. She launched herself at her mother and flung her arms tightly around the petite red-haired woman. ‘It’s so good to see you again! I’ve missed you.’
‘It’s not my fault you never come to visit,’ her mother retorted. She sniffled, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Blimey ‒ I can’t believe my little girl is getting’ married! I still remember you putting that lace curtain on your head and prancing round the flat, pretendin’ you were a bride. And now,’ she scrabbled in her purse for a tissue and blew her nose ‘now, you really are.’
‘And I can’t believe you’re Dad’s date! Tell me ‒ are you two back together, then?’
‘That,’ her mother replied as she cast a sharp eye at Milo, ‘remains to be seen.’
As introductions were exchanged and everyone took seats near the cheery warmth of the fireplace, Wren frowned. ‘Where’s Helen?’
‘With Colm, no doubt,’ Caitlin observed. ‘The two of them are inseparable lately, or hadn’t you noticed?’ She glanced at her mother. ‘Did you invite Colm tonight?’
Pen nodded. ‘I don’t know as he’ll come, though. You know how anti-social he is.’
‘Dinner is served,’ one of the wait staff announced.
They all got to their feet and trooped after Pen and Tarquin to the dining room. As they crossed the entrance hall, the front door swung open.
There was a fresh outbreak of barking as Archie came in, stamping his booted feet and shrugging his arms out of his wool overcoat.
‘Archie!’ Pen exclaimed as the others went in to the dining room. ‘There you are. We were just going in to dinner.’
‘Hello, darling.’ He tossed his coat on a chair. ‘Be off with you, you damned old mutts!’ he scolded the dogs. Obediently they trotted away, tongues lolling, to return to their places by the drawing room fire.
‘Is it snowing again?’ she asked.
He leant forward to kiss her, his lips cold against hers, and nodded wearily. ‘Yes. It’s been spitting snow off and on ever since we left the airport.’ His eyes searched hers. ‘I hope you don’t mind, darling, but I’ve brought someone along. There was no time to warn you.’
‘Mind? Why on earth would I mind—?’ Pen broke off as the door swung wider, and a tall, well-dressed man appeared behind Archie. Her smile froze.
‘Good evening, Pen,’ he murmured. ‘It’s been a very long time.’
Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. Shock rooted her to the spot. ‘Graeme,’ she whispered as he took her lifeless hand in his. ‘Graeme Longworth?’