The Sweetness of Liberty James (38 page)

‘I can't imagine how Jonathan must be feeling,' said Deirdre. ‘He was so looking forward to the sound of children tearing into their presents and demanding to go for a ride.'

‘Well, then,' replied Paloma, ‘it's good he is coming here. Tell me about you and he – has he proposed again this year?'

Deirdre guffawed and said her friend knew too much.

‘Ah, but did you say yes this time?'

‘Don't be silly, darling. Anyway, with Alain turning up I don't need any more complications. More bubbly, anyone?' It was clear she didn't want to pursue this line of conversation.

Evangeline, who so far had abstained completely, enjoyed a much diluted glass of champagne, and requested a ginger biscuit.

‘I either had too much caviar last night or too much fun,' she explained. ‘The baby is wriggling around like crazy.'

‘Sit down, and we will bring you anything you need,' ordered Paloma. ‘Honestly, whatever was I thinking, my first grandchild, to bring you to this madhouse? But you aren't born yet, of course.'

At that moment there was a scuffle and a shuffle as the dogs raced to the front door. Through the glass panels all they could see were the four legs of a horse and one of the rider's.

‘Happy Christmas!' yelled Edmund as they flung open the door. One of his twice-yearly smiles transformed his face.

‘You are somewhat early,' said Deirdre. ‘Anything wrong?'

‘I was riding home through the village and noticed the door of Duck End was open and nobody came when I called. I wasn't sure if you knew.'

‘No, I didn't,' replied Liberty, looking worried. ‘I'll grab my coat.' She followed Edmund across the green.

‘You hold Badger while I investigate,' instructed Edmund, handing Liberty the reins. ‘Don't you come inside.'

She waited a good ten minutes for him to re-emerge. When he did, he shrugged his shoulders and said, ‘All seems fine. You should be more careful. Even at Christmas people could load all these antiques in minutes and be off, given the chance.'

‘I am sure I wouldn't have left the door open,' countered Liberty. ‘You have to turn the key to close it from the outside. I'll go in and take a look myself.'

‘If you must, but I did check thoroughly.' Edmund felt she was being a little ungrateful. ‘I had better get home and see to Badger, not to mention change my clothes,' said Edmund. ‘Nice place you have, by the way. You have excellent taste.'

As she walked through the house, it seemed to be the perfectly furnished home she had been creating for the past few weeks, but it felt different, somehow. She couldn't put her finger on anything, but something was definitely odd. Walking slowly back to The Nuttery, she kept trying to remember if she had locked the door properly after taking Paloma round. Had she been careless?

‘Everything OK?' asked Deirdre.

‘Yes, I think so. Nice of Edmund to bother. He could have just assumed I was in there. I'm not sure I thanked him, but he makes me feel so useless!'

‘Maybe he wanted a nose at where you are going to live,' suggested Paloma.

‘What for? It's not an estate cottage.'

‘Perhaps he has more of a personal interest?'

‘An interest in making my life more difficult, no doubt. I hope
he won't put up the rent on the old butcher's shop before I've even opened.'

‘“LIBERTEAS” is its name, and it will be so successful you will be able to buy him out in five years' time,' stated Paloma with such sincerity Liberty wanted to believe her.

The two brothers walked in shortly after that, carrying an assortment of packages. Mrs Goodman followed, her head barely visible behind a glass bowl containing a trifle decorated with hundreds and thousands.

‘Mr de Weatherby mustn't go without his Christmas trifle,' she explained to anyone listening, and then in a lower voice said to Deirdre, ‘I'm trying to get him to eat more and it's always been his favourite. I hope you don't mind.'

Deirdre hugged the little housekeeper, and helped her place it safely in the pantry.

As they spread their presents around the tree, Edmund explained these included the children's ones.

‘We needed to get them out of the house,' he said. ‘Pa is getting maudlin. He really seems to have taken this hard. He thinks they will be shipped off to school and he will never see them again. I keep trying to explain that if they are in Switzerland, it will be far easier to hop over there for weekends than going to Abu Dhabi.'

‘Yes,' said Gray, ‘but I've heard some pretty gruesome stories of separated parents or estranged grandparents getting to the school gates only to be turned away, as the school has been instructed “no visitors”. You can imagine, some of these children come from ludicrously wealthy or famous families, or their parents might be top government officials, and there could be a kidnap risk, so schools have to be really careful.'

‘Yes, well, thank you, Gray, for that cheery note. Pa will be here in a minute, so we'd best change the subject.' Edmund glared at his younger brother.

Taking matters into her own paws, Teal at that moment chose to wee all over Edmund's hand-made shoes. Liberty blushed with
embarrassment and hurried the puppy outside while J-T poured a glass of vintage champagne and thrust it into Edmund's hands to distract him.

Paloma and Deirdre got the giggles and ineffectually tried to mop up the puddle with tiny lace handkerchiefs left out for the canapés.

‘Sweet puppy, huh?' said Grahame, elbowing Edmund with a grin. He knew his brother saw no point in lapdogs, but he too had noticed the way Ed had been gazing at Liberty, and how he had gasped when she came into the room before poor Teal relieved herself.

‘Dogs should be kept outside and used for hunting, shooting and herding sheep,' huffed Edmund, ‘not for sitting on laps, especially dogs with big eyes who look as though they have just run into a wall.'

‘Oh, Grumpy Dumpy,' jibed Deirdre, clinking glasses with him. ‘I promise, five minutes with a pug and you will be converted. Here, have a house-trained one.' And she handed him Custard for a leg warmer. The dog nestled happily on his lap and waited for crumbs from the canapés to fall.

Jonathan then arrived and told them he had spoken with Savannah and the children, who had, in spite of the fact that Muslims don't observe Christmas, enjoyed Christmas stockings, the excuse being that Father Christmas couldn't possibly be seen as a Christian.

‘They are all going to the races. I think Savvie is trying to convince her husband she can be a good wife, and conform.'

J-T had taken over as host, as Deirdre was chatting happily to Paloma and Jonathan. Noticing how he kept everyone's glass topped up, Liberty said to him, ‘You know, if you ever wanted to, you could run an excellent hotel. You and Bob could open one in Tunbridge Wells and send everyone to eat at my place.'

‘Sorry? You can't seriously expect us to leave London, can you?' said Bob, cutting across J-T. ‘My gallery is really taking off, and J-T has clients lined up for months – if he ever returns
to work, that is.' He sounded very uppity, and Liberty was surprised at his over-the-top reaction.

‘It may give you more time together,' she tried.

‘The only reason,' Bob reminded her tautly, ‘that we have spent so much time apart recently, is because J-T came down here to help you. Actually, we may have needed some time apart, but he will return after the New Year and I am sure he will be glad to be back in town.'

Liberty remembered Bob as the soft squidgy one who burst into tears at the sight of a limping dog. Where had this tough businessman come from, she wondered as she retrieved scallops baked in their shells with a touch of rosemary and butter from the Aga. She topped them with a tiny spoonful of chestnut and Jerusalem artichoke purée and placed them on a platter with lemon wedges. Another platter bore the smoked salmon; yet another was laden with tiny soft boiled quails' eggs sprinkled with sumac and sesame seeds. The women walked round the room serving the goodies, and hoped everyone would remain sufficiently sober until the Christmas feast was served.

After all the presents had been opened, marvelled over and tidied away, a round of charades ensued. It was a one-sided game, as Bob and Mrs Goodman, thanks to their relative sobriety, got most of them quickly. Mrs G blushed as she guessed Paloma was trying to act out
The Joy of Sex
, only to be told it was
Watership Down
.

‘Oh, no! I was hopping like a rabbit and trying to act “down”!' Paloma cried, then screamed with laughter.

Even Edmund relaxed after a few glasses of champagne. He sidled up to Liberty and complimented her on the canapés, then asked her what she thought to achieve with her café. He enjoyed watching her green eyes light up with passion as she talked about giving everyone the chance to experience good local food, simply cooked, alongside beautiful pastries and bread. She had been experimenting with a recipe for a walnut and poppy seed gateau, filled with fresh damson conserve and whipped cream.

‘It's got to be a winter winner, with a steaming mug of cocoa made with cream and grated black chocolate,' she told him.

He surprised himself by replying, ‘I am now going to be a local, so you can experiment on me.'

Liberty said that as her landlord he was welcome to come and check out her produce any time, and then she reddened as she realised the double meaning of what she had said.

Jonathan, Edmund and Gray had given her an old silver sugar shaker as a present.

‘It may need to be kept under the counter, but as you serve people you can always dust things at the last minute,' said Mrs Goodman, who had thought of the gift. ‘It's the little things that make the difference. I have put a fine mesh inside the top, which you can't see from the outside, so that if you fill it with icing sugar, it will sift it as it comes out. I made the assumption that you will be using so much that it will not have time to clump up much,' said the practical older lady.

As Liberty thanked Edmund for the immensely thoughtful gift she felt a little embarrassed that she had only given him stiff white linen handkerchiefs embroidered with E. d. W.

‘It was the only thing I knew you might use,' she explained, not adding that when she had found them she had thought they were as stiff and colourless as he was. He was such a confusing person, one moment so formal and the next so thoughtful. She watched him stroking Custard, covering his beautiful dark grey suit in fine white hair. Custard was looking up at him adoringly; Edmund had indeed been converted.

‘So, what were they bred for, exactly?' he asked.

‘Well, to be companion dogs for the monks in Tibet, supposedly,' said Deirdre. ‘Probably kept them warm, too. But they are so loving, and they have no jealousy at all, so they adore whoever is loving them at that moment.'

‘No problems with aggression, I suppose, with a mouth like that,' said Edmund. ‘Couldn't get a purchase on anything. But you are becoming beautiful to me,' he added, putting the dog
on his shoulder, and Custard took the opportunity to prove him wrong by swiping a mouthful of macadamias from the bowl behind him.

Goodness, maybe Ed has had too much to drink!
thought Liberty, who was watching this conversation closely.

Claude and Evangeline were giggling as they attempted to explain a game which involved a rolled-up newspaper in a bucket and a person reciting a rhyme while stirring the paper in the bucket. Once they stopped they ran towards some poor seated person, who, if they were paying any attention, jumped up and ran if they didn't want to be hit with the paper, which was why the game was called ‘whackums'. Everyone laughed uproariously as Claude leapt at Bob, fell over Dijon, and ran around the room with the two bulldogs following and looking anxious as Claude pursued their master.

Paloma and Jonathan were ensconced in the big sofa by the window, chatting happily. Mrs Goodman, whom nobody could bring themselves to call Jane, and who couldn't bear to be idle, went to the kitchen with Deirdre to finish the preparations. Potatoes went into the Aga to be roasted in beef fat, followed by parsnips coated in polenta and parmesan and lots of black pepper. The gravy stock bubbled merrily, a red wine reduction waiting for the beef juices.

Mrs Goodman started visibly at a loud knock at the back door. A black face peered in.

‘Clarence! A very merry Christmas to you!' said Deirdre, and the housekeeper relaxed. ‘Have a drink?'

‘No, thank you, Mrs James, I just wanted to thank you for my present and to give you mine.'

He shuffled uncomfortably and explained, ‘I am sorry to disturb you. We eat at midday, so I thought you would too, for some reason.'

‘Don't worry, come and look. We made your pudding.' And Deirdre showed him into the walk-in pantry where she was keeping a chocolate bombe, now called Bombe Clarence, cool
enough to stay firm, but unrefrigerated so it didn't lose its shine. She pointed out the edible gold leaf decorating the top, and the crystallised rose petals she had set on to the chocolate while it was still sufficiently tacky.

‘So now it looks the part too,' said Clarence, really overcome by the sight of the bombe. ‘I didn't think of doing that.'

‘You were the one who came up with the idea – and don't forget, I have been doing this kind of thing since way before you were born. I am very proud of you.' He beamed at the compliment, and said he was going home to study his cookery book, and looked forward to next year's class on 6
^th
January.

‘Oh, do come to our New Year's party,' said Deirdre as he left.

‘Thank you, but I think I am babysitting that evening, as Mum wants to go out, but if I can I will.' So saying, he stepped carefully down the path, then stopped and ran back. ‘Sorry, Mrs James, here is your present – nearly forgot.' And thrusting something at her, he turned and raced off.