‘Auntie Nicola, hello – and happy Christmas,’ said Lottie, greeting her aunt warmly at the door. Nicola dodged a doughy hug and stepped inside.
‘I always think it should be merry Christmas – otherwise happy gets overused with Christmas and New Year. Don’t you think?’ said Nicola.
‘Um, not really.’ Lottie gave her hands another rub and watched her uncle struggling with a large case and a bag as the rain pelted down on him. He eventually lugged them inside to the background noise of Nicola’s tutting.
‘Uncle Daniel,’ said Lottie, giving him a kiss and ignoring the large smudge of flour she left on his cheek. ‘New hair cut?’
Daniel rubbed his hand over his newly shorn head self-consciously. ‘Bald patch was expanding so it was time to bite the bullet. Happy Christmas, Lottie. Are you baking?’
‘Sausage rolls,’ she said, trying not to sound too pleased with herself. Uncle Daniel was nodding at her. ‘My first time,’ she added. He no longer looked so enthusiastic.
‘Come on, Rhys,’ yelled Aunt Nicola, through the open door. Their nineteen-year-old son was sitting in the back of their Range Rover with his head bent down. He didn’t respond.
‘He’s got his headphones in, he’ll never hear you,’ said Uncle Daniel, rolling his eyes out of sight of his wife. ‘Leave him. He’ll come in when he’s ready.’
Lottie pushed the door closed, thankful to shut out the wet and cold. It wasn’t looking like it would be the white Christmas she’d hoped for. She was an incurable romantic, especially during the festive season. She didn’t care that some people thought it was commercial; she loved every little bit of it, from the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping to pulling crackers – it was all part of the fun to her. But the Christmases when it snowed always felt extra special.
‘Are you both well?’ asked Lottie.
‘I’m very busy,’ said Nicola.
‘What with?’ Daniel was scowling at his wife.
‘My business. I’m swamped right now. I did wonder if we should consider dressing the manor for sale. My company could do it for a fee. We could take out all the outdated furnishings and show a buyer its potential.’ Nicola eyed the antique dresser in the hallway, now heaped with coats.
‘I don’t know—’ began Lottie.
‘We’re not spending money on this place,’ Daniel interjected. ‘Any buyer will need to see its potential with or without new cushions.’
‘There’s far more to interior design than cushions,’ said Nicola, giving Daniel a frosty glare.
‘Could have fooled me,’ muttered Daniel.
‘Shall we take the blue room?’ asked Nicola, shooing her luggage-laden husband upstairs.
Lottie pressed her lips together. Here we go again. ‘Actually Zach has taken that one. I thought—’
‘Roman room it is then.’ Nicola gave a tight smile.
‘Ah, sorry. My mum has bagsied that one. She’s brought her new boyfriend.’ Nicola fixed Lottie with a hawk-like stare. ‘Green room is all made up. And I’d assumed Rhys would be in the box room as usual. Well, not quite asusual, I’ve moved the rest of Nana’s doll collection in there.’ Lottie gave a jaunty shoulder shrug.
‘What about Rose’s—’
‘Noooo,’ said Daniel cutting over her. ‘We’ll be fine in the green room, Lottie, thank you.’ She heard them bickering all the way up the stairs and along the corridor, until they finally shut the bedroom door behind them.
Lottie let out a sigh. That was it; everyone was here. Although, technically, Rhys was still in the car; but he was on Manor land so that counted. She could finally relax and start focusing on everyone enjoying Christmas – because ultimately that was the only thing that mattered.
Lottie made a cafetière of coffee, filled the large teapot and added a jug of squash for Jessie. She grabbed a can of Coke for Rhys and laid out a selection of biscuits – some from the cheap box and some from the posh one (like Nana used to do). ‘They’ll never know they’re not all the pricey ones,’ she’d say, and she was right. When everything was ready, she went in search of people. It seemed they had all squirrelled themselves away in their rooms since arriving, and Lottie intended to root them out. She headed upstairs, deciding she’d pop to the loo first. When she reached the toilet she heard someone behind her. Emily gave a weak smile, looked away and headed back to her room.Odd, thought Lottie.
Whilst in the bathroom, she checked there were enough towels and toilet rolls; she knew they’d go through lots over the next couple of days. Her mother, for one, didn’t seem capable of reusing a towel – they went in the laundry after barely getting damp. Lottie went along the hallway tapping on the bedroom doors. ‘It’s the tea fairy! Tea, coffee and biscuits being served in the snug.’
Jessie was out first. ‘Biscuits! Hooray!’ She raced past Lottie and downstairs, closely followed by her father.
‘Biscuits! Hooray!’ he mimicked, giving Lottie a wink as he scooted past her. She chuckled at him. Despite what he’d been through over the last few years, he was still the big kid she remembered.
‘Is it decaf?’ asked her mother, joining her on the landing.
‘Nope. It’s fully leaded, just how Nana liked it.’
