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‘Tim took them into the library to have a chat.’
Claudia heaved herself out of her chair as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Millie found she had to quell the urge to offer her an arm to lean on as they made their way across the hallway towards the library. A sudden blast of concern whipped through her. Could Claudia be suffering from something other than a sickness bug?
Zach was about to open the library door when the front door burst open and a crowd of people spilled into the entrance hall, every one of them bundled up against the cold in padded jackets, and woolly hats and scarves.
‘What the…?’ cried Millie.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Hi Claudia. The village grapevine has gone into over-drive and we thought maybe Tim could do with a hand to tidy up and mend the roof – there’s more snow predicted for tomorrow night,’ said Mitch, the landlord of The Flying Fox, dragging his hat from his head to reveal a shock of red hair.
‘Yay! The cavalry’s here! Lead me to the cranberry cupcakes and hot chocolate!’ declared Blake, rushing forward to draw Millie into a bear hug, crushing her face against his banana-yellow down jacket. ‘Better get working on the provisions for the troops.’
‘Hello Claudia,’ said Kate, as she released Zach from a hug and turned to embrace her friend. Millie cringed when she spotted the wicker basket hooked over her arm, crammed with her signature corned beef-and-potato pies and the inevitable blocks of parkin. ‘Hi Millie.’
‘Hi Kate. Erm, I…’
Millie was about to follow Kate into the kitchen when the front door was flung open a second time and, accompanied by a flurry of snowflakes, in walked another battalion of helpers swelling the numbers to over a dozen. The volume of animated chatter increased three-fold as everyone greeted everyone else, then clattered off into the kitchen for a fortifying feed before the hard work began.
The noise had alerted Tim and the door to the library cracked open. When he saw Mitch, he dashed forward, his palm outstretched, keen to lead the procession to the workshop to explain what had happened and for an in-depth discussion on how best to protect his precious collection of junk from the elements. Millie remained in the hallway, amazed at the rapid response of the call-to-arms. A warm sensation meandered through her veins until she noticed the expression of horror on Sven’s face as he watched the procession of villagers trample through the hallway leaving behind trails of mud and pools of melted snow on the highly polished floor.
‘Who are all these people?’ demanded Sven, his mouth curled downwards in distaste.
‘They’re…’ began Rupert, pausing to consider his response, clearly wrestling with his conscience until a black-and-white springer spaniel by the name of Binks rushed up and began circling his legs in excitement, snuffling at the pocket of his overcoat for a treat. Rupert reached down and fondled the dog’s silky ears receiving a lick of approval for his effort. ‘They’re friends. People who live in the village who have answered a fellow resident’s call for support.’
‘Does this sort of thing happen regularly?’
‘All the time.’
Sven gaped in astonishment, mingled with a soupcon of fear, as a third contingent arrived on the threshold, this group accompanied by several excitable children carrying huge inflatable reindeers which they proceeded to arrange where the Christmas tree had stood. One of the men recognised Rupert and strode forward to shake his hand warmly and slap him on the back.
‘The wanderer returns! Great to see you, Rupe. Fancy a pint in The Fox later? Reckon the drinks’ll be on Tim, don’t you? What’s he gone and done this time?’
‘Raised the roof on the workshop.’
‘Nothing new there then! Let’s go and assess the damage!’
Rupert’s friend dragged him off into the kitchen leaving Millie and Sven alone in the entrance hall. If it were possible, Sven’s already translucent pallor had blanched further as he witnessed the constant stream of visitors march through Stonelea Manor as if they owned the place. However, when he reached the kitchen doorway, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the maelstrom of chaos.
The clutter from the brunch preparations was still there, but now every available square of space was covered in coats, hats, gloves, Tupperware boxes of food, crates of beer and bottles of wine, wreaths of holly and mistletoe, and women chatting with Claudia, giggling as she regaled them with the details of another of Tim’s fiascos. Millie couldn’t help but smile, because there was no sign of the earlier tiredness as Claudia stood amongst her friends and laughed with them about her husband’s foibles.
Without thinking, Millie turned to comment about the fabulousness of friends, about how life was enriched by their uplifting presence, no matter how fleeting, but Sven’s mask of arrogance had slipped to be replaced with a look of absolute discomfort, which morphed swiftly into panic. She watched him remove his hand sanitiser and squirt a generous dollop into the palm of his hand, and then flick his eyes over his shoulder towards the front door, clearly preparing to make a run for it.
Having honed her skills in prevarication over many years, Millie wondered what to do for the best. On the one hand, she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise Tim and Claudia’s chance at securing a sale of the manor, but equally she knew that Sven wasn’t the right person to take over its custodianship. It was none of her business really, but she also suspected that Sven wouldn’t be happy there and just needed a little nudge to realise that.
Should she butt out and let destiny take its course, or, as was her tendency, don her Meddlesome Millie hat?
She decided to encourage Sven to join the throng in the kitchen. The whole room was filled with a kaleidoscope of colour, of fragrances, and of people. Christmas carols blared from the radio and laughter ricocheted around the walls. No one batted an eye at the anonymous superstar in their midst and she could see the disappointment in his expression, along with the distaste at having to rub shoulders with so many strangers without the protection of an entourage. She handed him a coffee, managing to slop a couple of droplets onto his designer overcoat that he still hadn’t removed. She grabbed a slice of kitchen towel and tried to blot the dribble away, knocking a packet of icing sugar onto the floor with her elbow and sending clouds of sweet white mist into the air. Sven backed away towards the entrance hall, horror scrawled across his features, and Millie had an idea.
She caught up with him at the bottom of the staircase.
‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s a real work of art; one that should be in a museum. I plan to replace it with a glass and stainless-steel design, much more elegant and sophisticated, don’t you think, Miss Harmer?’
Millie was too appalled by his suggestion to even pull him up for getting her name wrong. She now had no qualms about putting her plan into action. She just hoped that Claudia and Tim would forgive her. Surely they would be horrified too when they heard about Sven’s intentions to rip out the staircase that had adorned Stonelea Manor for over two hundred years. It would be tantamount to assault!
‘You know, Claudia and Tim hold annual Banister Sliding competitions for the village children. It’s one of the highlights of the local primary school’s calendar and there’s a prize for the fastest. There’s even a silver trophy that’s presented by the head of the household.’
