Page 17 of Winter Magic at Hollybrae Castle

6

I hadn’t realised how tired I was until I wake up to the sound of ‘Joy to the World’ being sung from somewhere below and have to squint in the sunlight coming through the curtains I forgot to draw last night.

I reach for my phone and quickly reply to Mira’s ‘are you still alive?’ message as I realise it’s gone 10 a.m., and that is definitely not Ollie’s voice doing the singing.

I get out of bed in my Christmas pyjamas and shrug the borrowed cardigan back on and wrap it around me like a dressing gown as I head downstairs, glad the castle is cosy enough to find my way around without the aid of a map.

‘Ahh, you’re awake, my love!’ A woman in her sixties with short greying hair turns around from the stove when I push open the kitchen door, like she was expecting me at any moment. ‘I said you’d be tired after such a long day of travelling, didn’t I?’

She stops what she’s doing and marches across the kitchen and envelops me into a hug that I have absolutely no choice about. ‘I’m Nancy. I’m so pleased to meet you, Lula.’

‘You too.’ I wheeze from the tightness of her hug, but she doesn’t let go until I’m mere moments from suffocation. ‘Please, call me Lu.’ I rub my throat, trying to encourage my airway to re-open.

‘How did you sleep?’

I go to answer with my usual answer – restlessly and constantly woken by the sound of sirens – but things are different here. I wasn’t woken by anything except the morning calls of seabirds, and if I woke up at all during the night, I don’t remember it, despite the unfamiliar place. ‘Amazingly, actually. I didn’t even know eighteen-tog duvets existed. I’ve never slept under anything so cosy.’

‘Not much choice in an old place like this. It gets chilly,’ she says, and I can already feel the coldness of the kitchen floor seeping in through my socks.

Nancy wraps her hands around my upper arms and marches me over to the table and pushes me into a chair. ‘Now, what’ll you have for breakfast? I can make some toast, or a fry-up, or bake something, or anything else that takes your fancy, you just say the word.’

‘Cereal?’

‘Yes, there’s plenty of that. I didn’t know what you liked so I got a selection. Put your favourites on the fridge list and I’ll be sure to get them next time I go shopping.’ She goes across the kitchen and returns with an empty bowl, a spoon, and a bottle of milk, which she puts on the table in front of me, and then goes back again and peers into a cupboard while calling out cereal options.

‘I can get—’ I go to get up and get my own, but she turns around holding a box of corn flakes and looks so severe that she might be about to batter me with it.

‘I won’t hear of it.’

‘I’m staff, if anything,’ I protest. ‘I’m not actually the lady of the house.’

‘Oh, I don’t care about that, it’s been such a long time since I had a lovely young lass to dote on.’

I’m torn between smiling because she seems serious, even though she doesn’t know me and I could be the worst young lass she’s ever met, and blushing so hard that I singe a hole in the table.

She brings the box of corn flakes over and thankfully lets me pour them out myself.

She sits down in the chair next to me. ‘What did you make of the master of the house?’

‘He’s lovely,’ I say without thinking. ‘He seemed really… genuine. Warm and kind.’

She evidently recognises his cardigan, so I add, ‘A real gentleman.’

‘That he is, indeed. A handsome one too, am I right?’

I wish I hadn’t chosen that exact moment to swallow a mouthful of corn flakes because I promptly choke on them.

‘No one can deny he’s very handsome,’ I say carefully when I can speak again. I don’t know if this will be repeated to Ollie, but at the same time, he has mirrors. It’s not like I’m stating an unknown fact by agreeing that he’s nice-looking.

I’ve never been scrutinised while eating cereal before, but she’s not trying to make me uncomfortable. Instead, I feel like she’s trying to get a measure of me in the least intrusive way possible.

Eventually she reaches over to pat my arm and concludes, ‘I’m glad you’re here. He needs someone like you around.’

I’m intrigued by that, and only partially because she met me five minutes ago and has no idea what I’m like. I chomp through corn flakes in a rush to ask her what she means, but she continues without prompting.

‘He’s lost himself in recent years, and he needs to be reminded of what really matters at Christmas… and in life, even though I have no idea how the two of you are ever going to pull this off.’

From what Ollie said yesterday, I’d assumed that she and Hamish were completely on board, especially given that their grandchildren are involved. ‘You don’t approve of his plan?’