I returned to the dogs. The dachshund, Garbo, had now clambered up onto my shoulders and seemed to be attempting to fashion herself as a living stole. I tried to steady her, worried she would topple off, when a pair of strong hands scooped her up.
‘Sorry, she can be rather overfamiliar.’ The man draped her over his shoulders where she settled contentedly, giving his ear the odd lick, and went to sit at his workbench. Hepburn followed and curled up in a basket near his feet.
‘Look, I need to get back to work. There should be someone at the house; why don’t you try again, and if you really have no luck, then I suppose I can come and let you in?’
What a rude man, I thought, and mentally patted myself on the back for my decision not to get romantically involved with anyone again. Handsome he may be, but that was obviously the beginning and the end of his charms.
‘Right. Well, thanks. I’ll do that.’
I turned to go when the door flew open and in blew a woman. She was tall and very slim with wavy, honey-coloured hair that must have cost a fortune to maintain. She was dressed in neutral tones – tailored caramel trousers, conker-shiny pointed boots, and a chunky yet close-fitting ivory sweater. A waft of Chanel reached my nose as she flung her arms out towards me.
‘Oh! Are you Penny?’
I nodded and she hugged me warmly.
‘Oh, how marvellous to see you, thank yousomuch for coming, what utter bliss. I’m Bunny. It’s all completely hopeless; I’m trying to work, Ben is still up in London, Pilar had to go shopping, William is spendingfarmore time than I would have thought was necessary down at the grotto and now my dreadful children have vanished.’
I had no idea who any of the people were that she was talking about, but it was the final comment that caught my attention.
‘Children? Vanished?’
‘Yes, my twins. Seraphina and Caspian. I can’t find them anywhere – I did hope they might be in here. You haven’t seen them, have you, Lando darling?’
The man at the workbench shook his head.
‘No, I’m sorry, Bunny, they’ve not been in here. They won’t have gone far. Didn’t you find them raiding Dad’s Christmas sherry last time?’
‘I did! It was hilarious, Penny. Two tiddly twins!’
Lando raised an eyebrow. ‘Let’s at least hope they’re sober this time, with nothing missing.’
Bunny waved an airy hand. ‘Yes, well, the fingertip has nearly grown back. Isn’t nature wonderful?’
‘Well, I’m sure that Penny will help you look. Now, I have to get on with my work.’
He picked up a chisel and turned his back on us. I stood there awkwardly, feeling both piqued at this summary dismissal but also a gnawing anxiety. Did I really want to spend Christmas like this? I was, after all, essentially their servant for the season, and maybe they were the type of family that would expect me to ‘know my place’. I was used to being in charge of my own classroom; I suddenly wasn’t so sure that this had been a wise idea. Bunny’s voice broke through my thoughts.
‘Come on, darling Penny, we won’t get anything else out of Lando for a while, we’ll just have to forge on alone.’
I was still reeling from my worries and from the image of drunken children with severed body parts when she tucked her arm through mine and swept me out of the studio and back into the cold garden.
‘It’s so lovely to meet you,’ continued Bunny. ‘You arrived at theperfectmoment. Idohope that you’ll feel at home here.’ I was starting to nod my slightly shaky acquiescence when she let out a cry, making me jump. ‘Oh! I’ve thought of theidealway to make you feel like one of the family straight away. A nickname!’ She clapped her hands with joy at this idea and carried on before I had a chance to speak. ‘But what could itbe? I suppose Penny is short for Penelope already, and it’s very nice, but what about something morefun? I’ve always liked ‘Bunny’, much better than the sensible name I was given when I was born.’
‘What was it?’ I asked.
‘Belinda. All right, I suppose, but my parents started the whole Bunny thing and it stuck. We called my brother Xander Newt for years, but that eventually wore off.’
I giggled, despite myself. ‘Maybe you should pick it up again?’
She let out a peal of laughter.
‘Maybe I should. Oh, I know!’ I looked at her apprehensively. ‘How about Pixie? Oh yes, it’s adorable, the children will love it and it does rather suit you. Oh, may I call you Pixie?’
I was stunned by this excited outpouring but also undeniably flattered. Itdidmake me feel included and, what’s more, it wouldn’t be remotely sensible to go around being called Pixie, which fit in beautifully with the Grand Plan. Timothy would have a heart attack if he were here.
‘Pixie,’ I said, trying it out. ‘Pixie…I love it!’
‘I’m so glad! Now, we must find those children. Of course, the problem is that this house and the grounds are so massive, it’s easy for them to lose themselves. Where to start?’
