two
HENRY
The twenty-first ofDecember was finally upon me.
Being handed the keys for Bayview Manor felt as monumental as the first time my parents trusted me with a house key.
Albeit, I had no intention of stealing my bosses’ vodka and watering it down to hope they wouldn’t notice and dry humping girls on their sofa. Shame really, I was clearly far more interesting at seventeen than at present.
‘Front door, side door, cellar. The rest of the keys are in the office lockbox if you need to open the other entrances. You have the greenhouse and outhouse ones already.’ Lord Leadbetter, or Fenton as he preferred us to call him, dropped the keys into my palm with a resounding clunk. If someone pounced on me in the dark, I didn’t doubt they could double as a medieval-looking weapon.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after the place for you,’ I reassured the older man, hitting him with a sunny smile that I hoped wouldassuage his apprehension. Usually, their butler took the helm, but he’d had to go home to look after his ailing mother, so they were entrusting the place to me. I had little doubt about how the outside world perceived me. Silly, goofy, smiley, a bit of an airhead. I’d always found that life was a little less hard when attacking it with happiness. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t step up. I worked hard and always surpassed expectations. Hell, making people happy had become my favourite pastime.
‘Oh, Fenton, stop havering. The car’s waiting.’ Lady Leadbetter swept through the hall in her ever grandiose style, planting a lipstick-marking kiss on my cheek. ‘Look after Merv for me, won’t you?’
‘He’ll keep me right, don’t worry.’ I laughed as Lady L.’s eyes glittered.
‘Don’t forget his Christmas basket. It’ll arrive on Christmas Eve.’ She stood by the open door and shivered.
‘You’ll spoil that donkey.’ Gooseflesh danced up my arms as a cold wind whipped through the door.
‘I think it’s too late for that,’ Fenton said with a roll of his eyes.
He wasn’t wrong. Their kids had grown up and left home, making their way in places far more exciting than Otterleigh Bay, so Lady L. adopted creatures to fill the void in her very empty home. Merv the donkey. Rascal the Great Dane. Numerous mousing cats. Rascal had been relocated for the week to stop him from sitting on the incoming client’s knees and drooling on their supper, but Merv and I would be buddies. I could sneak out and have coffee with him whenever things in the house got too wild. I had little doubt that with high-paying customers and highly paid planners and designers, things would become frustrating real fast once the chaos descended. So I’d hide out in his stable like some nativity of avoidance.
Lady L. gripped a suitcase so small it could only be ornamental. A courier had already escorted their luggage ahead of them.
‘Have a fantastic time, you’ll have a blast catching up with your kids.’ I followed them out and held out an arm to escort Lady L. down the stone front steps. She gave a wicked grin as she gripped my bicep.
‘Stop fondling the staff, Dear,’ Fenton groaned, the noise laced with humour. ‘Save all that for me.’
Lord Leadbetter tutted at him. ‘You’ve got the run of the place, son. Try not to burn it down while we’re gone.’
‘You have my word,’ I said, which made Lady L. sigh into her scarf and mutter.
They bundled into the car, waving as though they were heading off for a world tour, not just two weeks in England. I stood on the front steps jingling my briefly inherited keys while the wind gripped me in ghostly, icy fingers. Bayview Manor stood silently behind me, all grand architecture and ancient stone.
‘Well,’ I told the house, ‘just you and me for a bit. Until chaos descends.’
The manor creaked in what I chose to interpret as agreement.
I took a quick tour of the manor to ensure everything was in order. Fires stocked with wood and kindling, Christmas trees topped up with water and ready for the whirlwind of decor, and wreaths fluffed to accentuate their fullness. The orangery smelt gloriously citrus, the warmth cranked up to fight the growing chill outdoors. The boiler purred like a satisfied cat, well fed and content. Walking through the quiet halls enveloped me in the scent of wood polish and pine from the abundance of real garlands and trees.
Six trees.
The main Christmas tree stood in the entrance hall, twelve feet tall and fat as could fit in the double stairwell. It lurked sad and empty as it awaited adornment. I could picture it glittering, stuffed with baubles and trinkets, tinsel, and bows. Our Christmas tree at home was a mix of bought ornaments and years’ worth of poorly made items brought home from school or clubs. Mum hung them up every year as though they were the most precious decorations in the box.
God, I fucking love Christmas.
The cheesy songs, the twinkling everything, the rich food and silly games. It pained me to miss it with my family, but since my siblings married and had children, it added a layer of complexity. Our core family faded as theirs took hold. I didn’t blame them, it was the natural way of things, but Mum, Dad and I were carted from family to family as the years passed, until finally we’d given up and relocated Christmas until the twenty-ninth.
Satisfied with the state of the place, I poured a coffee, grabbed a handful of carrots, and went to find Merv.
My donkey friend loitered in his stable, despite the gate being open to the yard. With two hoof prints in the frost, he must have stepped out before thinking hell no. Who could blame him? Musty hay aroma hung in the air as I sat on a stool inside the door. Merv’s ears pricked as he gave a soft bray and walked over to meet me.
‘Morning, Your Majesty,’ I said, rubbing between his ears. ‘How’s the kingdom today? Bit frosty? Agreed.’
He snuffled hot air against my coat pocket, already homing in on the veggies hidden there.
