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Chapter 12
‘Pinch, punch first of the month,’ Seren said, and added, ‘White rabbits,’ for good measure.
‘I thought you were supposed to say white rabbits before you say anything else when you get up in the morning,’ her dad pointed out. ‘You’ve been singing since we set off.’
‘Singing doesn’t count.’
‘Saying “good morning, only twenty-four days to Christmas” as soon as you got out of bed, does,’ Patrick argued.
‘I’d forgotten that.’
‘And you’re supposed to pinch and punch,’ he added, putting his hand up to ward her off and shrinking back in the passenger seat in case Seren took his advice.
‘Stop being so bah humbug,’ Seren said. ‘Oh, wow, look at that lofty pile.’
They’d just driven through a pair of impressive, if rusty, wrought iron gates to see Fernlea Manor sitting at the far end of a wide, unkempt drive.
‘It’s gorgeous, but I’m not sure I’d want to live there. Imagine the heating bills! And it looks like it could do with some TLC.’ Trust her dad to think of the practicalities when Seren was bowled over by the romance of the place. ‘It’s falling down,’ he added. ‘Bet that’s going to take a pretty penny to do up. I wonder if that’s the reason they’re holding a Christmas Fayre in the grounds?’
‘I was listening to something on the radio about that,’ Seren said, wondering where they were to park the van. ‘Some lord was being interviewed and he said it costs an arm and a leg to keep these old estates going. Which is why so many owners either hand them over to the National Trust or open their doors to paying visitors. That’s what the owner of this place might be doing. Maybe the profits for today will pay for a new gargoyle or something?’
A man stood halfway down the drive and as they approached, he put up a hand. ‘Set up there,’ he said, pointing to the circular area in front of the house. ‘There are facilities around the back, where that van is going.’
Seren saw a large white truck inching around the corner and even from here she could see its suspension bouncing wildly on the rutted drive.
‘Traders aren’t allowed in the house under any circumstances,’ the man added.
‘What if we need the loo?’ she asked, and as was always the way, as soon as she thought about it she needed to go.
‘As I said, the facilities are around the back.’ The man tutted and shook his head. Seren heard him mutter something under his breath as he walked off to see to the vehicle behind her, but she couldn’t catch what it was.
Suitably chastised, she pointed Dippy to where she’d been told to park.
Several traders had already arrived, and as they drove slowly past the entrance to the marquee, Seren could see stalls being erected and people bustling to and fro with boxes and crates, trestle tables and signs. She was so glad her van needed the minimum of fuss to get it ready. Open the window, roll out the awning, then lift the assorted pretty baskets out from underneath, and Serendipity was ready to go. The only other thing to be done was to hang the garlands and wreaths (which were turning out to be best sellers and incredibly profitable, considering Seren made them herself) and grab a coffee before ‘The Christmas Fayre at the Manor’ opened to the public.
It sounded grand, and Seren hoped it would attract lots of customers. She couldn’t wait to have a look around either, especially in the marquee where the food stalls were. Images of handmade chocolates, speciality cheeses, and artisan gins and liqueurs floated through her mind, whilst outside the space was starting to fill up with catering vans selling mouth-watering items such as hot chocolate with Baileys, pulled pork sandwiches, and roast chestnuts.
Her tummy clenched in excitement – God shelovedChristmas!
Seren pulled Dippy into its allotted place and got to work, her dad helping. She was so grateful he was here because she didn’t think she could manage by herself, although she was feeling considerably better about today now that she’d got one market under her belt. Fingers crossed, she hoped this one would be as profitable.
She’d find ‘the facilities’ (hoping they weren’t as grim as they sounded) and then she’d treat them to a coffee. Or a hot chocolate, since it was Christmas. Leaving her dad alone for a few minutes, she headed off around the side of the manor house and into a large courtyard surrounded on one side by the house itself, a tall stone wall with bushes and trees poking over the top on another, and outbuildings on a third side.
It was busy here too, with people coming and going, and vehicles looking for parking spaces, and she stopped for a moment to get her bearings and try to work out where the loos were.
Ah, there they were, she saw, as she read a handwritten sign on a piece of cardboard. They were at the far end of the outbuildings, and she made her way towards them, hoping they would be clean.
Thankfully they were, although functional was the word that came to mind as she washed her hands in the tiny, chipped, enamel sink, and was forced to dry them on the hem of her scarf. If this was what visitors had to use, no wonder the manor house was so run down – it certainly didn’t encourage repeat visits.
As she exited the facilities, she noticed a tall ladder propped against the rear wall of the house and a man balancing at the top of it. He was removing the ivy growing around one of the upstairs windows, and from the marks on the brickwork and the scattering of leaves, small branches, and twiglets on the ground beneath, Seren assumed he’d worked his way across the whole lot. She didn’t envy him – she hated heights, and he must be freezing.
She had just begun to walk across the courtyard and back to her dad and Dippy, when a bang and a crunch made her jump. The noise was caused by a transit colliding with the side of a silver Twingo, and it looked as though both vehicles had aimed for the same parking slot.
Worried, her eyes shot to the man on the ladder, fully expecting him to have lost his balance and fallen, and she breathed a sigh of relief to see him still perched there. It was short-lived, though, when she noticed the man wobble precariously, and her heart was in her mouth until he steadied himself.
Seren sagged with relief, feeling a little shaky, and she wondered if anyone else had noticed a man in danger of plunging to his death, but everyone’s attention was on the occupants of the pranged vehicles.
Seren glanced back at the man again to check he really was OK and that he wasn’t about to fall off, and froze.
