Theo took over from him.
‘In the past they would have eaten in the Great Hall, but that’s more of a sitting room for us as you’ve seen, so we use this because it’s nearer the kitchen. It is a bit weird with no windows, but you get used to it.’
‘Exactly,’ said Alexander, smiling at his son. ‘Right, we’ve made our favourite – baked potatoes with a selection of toppings – so please just dig in.’
The food was delicious, and I began to relax as we ate and the conversation flowed. The talk turned to Christmas.
‘When do rehearsals start for the Nativity?’ Alexander asked his father, adding some more cheese to his potato.
‘This week,’ replied Douglas. ‘Theo and I are raring to go, aren’t we?’
‘Yes! We’re innkeepers this year,somuch more exciting than boring old shepherds like last time.’
‘And no sheep to misbehave either,’ said Douglas wryly. He turned to me. ‘I should explain, Fallon. Each year the village holds a live Nativity performance which winds its way through the streets – well, street, since Lingfoss is a tiny place – with anyone who wants one taking a part and the vicar narrating the whole thing. It’s been done for centuries and it’s fun to be part of. Last year, as Theo says, we were shepherds, and we had the stubbornest sheep in Yorkshire as our companion. That blighterwould not move!’
‘I’ll look forward to seeing it,’ I said. ‘Are you going to do it too?’ I looked at Alexander.
He shook his head.
‘No. I have done in the past, but I’m getting my new business up and running this year, so I’m way too busy. I did wonder if Jacqueline might take a turn, though – I’m sure the village would love it.’
I hardly dared look at Mum. If it doesn’t go through her agent six times, she doesn’t do it: that’s pretty much the rule to get her out of bed. But, to her credit, she forced a smile.
‘Now then, I don’t think Nativity is mymétier, darling. And from what I’ve seen of the photos, it requires wearing a woollen robe, no matter what part you have.’ She gave that smile which makes you question whether she’s joking or not. ‘My fans would never forgive me; I think I’ll resign myself to a supporting role.’ She smiled soppily at Douglas, who reached over to stroke her face, and I hid my smirk in my wine glass. My mother has never ceded the limelight to anyone; I wouldn’t put it past her to appear in a surprise star turn as an angel in some Dior gold silk number. Alexander saw my face and grinned.
‘How about you, Fallon? I’m sure there’s still time to sign up?’
Over my dead body.
I raised an eyebrow at him.
‘No, thank you, I’ll leave the theatrics to everyone else.’
He wasn’t going to stop teasing me, though.
‘Oh, what a shame, don’t you like dressing up? I’m sure they could find you some lovely old wool cloak that’s been sported by various members of the village over the past hundred years.’
Theo pulled a face.
‘Yuck. It’s not that bad, Dad. Mine was only a bit itchy last year.’
‘Absolutely, you should consider it, Fallon!’ chimed in Douglas. ‘The authentic scents increase as the wool warms up and really add to the atmosphere.’
I dropped my head into my hands and laughed.
‘I’ll pass! I’m dressing up for the party tomorrow night, so I think that’s going to be the beginning and the end of costumes for me.’
No doubt Alexander would have carried on ribbing me, had his phone not rung.
‘Oh, sorry, I’d better get this. Won’t be long.’ He answered the call: ‘Finally, Hetty!’ and left the room. When he returned, he was as white as a sheet and sat down heavily in his chair.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Douglas, looking concerned. ‘Bad news?’
Alexander had a long drink of water and refilled his glass. I thought he was going to cry.
‘It’s Hetty,’ he whispered. ‘She’s had to go up to Scotland – her mother has been in an accident and has to have surgery. I’m awfully sorry for her, but what on earth am I going to do about the Christmas Fayre?’
A sympathetic silence fell. It was Douglas who broke it.
