“It’s easy to miss what’s on your doorstep. Although we were dragged here every year as kids. As soon as the house was decorated, Rayah was always desperate to visit, but our parents made us wait until the markets were on,” Zack said. “It does always feel like the start of Christmas though.”
He turned onto the long driveway into the estate, rolling fields around them and the house in the distance. He could see what were probably plenty more fairy lights in the distance decorating the market stalls and a few rows of cars.
“It’s such an amazing house,” Sorrell said. She was bundled up in flat boots and a multi coloured striped sweater, a woolly hat on her head with a large pompom on top. Her chestnut hair was controlled by the hat, framing her face and setting off her eyes.
He liked looking at her.
He liked talking with her.
And he was spending far too much time thinking about what else he’d like to be doing with her.
“The market’s open until seven,” he said. “We could eat here or there’s a really good pub that does food on the estate too.”
“Let’s see how it goes,” she said, getting straight out of the car and jumping down, then pulling her thick coat from the back seat.
He was dressed more like a farmer than the manager of a care home, wearing worn jeans, a fleecy jumper and padded gilet. His boots weren’t what he’d work in on the farm, but they had seen better days. For a moment, he wondered if he should’ve made more of an effort to impress Sorrell, but she seemed unperturbed.
“Imagine living somewhere like this,” she said as they got to the entrance to the house. “It’s mind-blowing. So many rooms and so much history.”
Zack smiled, pulling out his wallet to pay the entrance fee. “I’m not sure that would be a life I’d choose,” he said. “It’s enough running the number of rooms we have at Sunrise.”
She laughed softly. “I agree. And I’m not sure I’d like to have to bring in the public to make ends meet. Although coming up with ideas like this for Christmas would be fun.”
She scowled as he paid and then led the way through the courtyard to the entrance to the house which was now dressed for Christmas with the theme ofA Christmas Carol.
Reds, golds and greens decorated the place, models of Bob Cratchit and his wife were placed to stand at the entrance to the first reception room. Lights shone from everywhere, it seemed, and Christmas carols were piped from invisible speakers.
He didn’t look at the scene that surrounded them, which was of several Christmas trees, each decorated slightly differently. Instead he looked at Sorrell’s face as she saw the scene and how her expression was brighter than every light in the room. There were no concerns about the hotel or builders or called off weddings.
Instead she looked like Christmas. Happy and relaxed and enchanted. Or was that him? Had he become the one who was enchanted?
“This is just magical,” she said, keeping her voice low as if she’d scare off the Christmas trees. As it was later in the day it was pretty empty; apart from another elderly couple, they were the only ones present.
They wandered through the rooms, past displays set up with scenes from Dickens’ novel: the Cratchit Christmas dinner, Christmas past, Scrooge’s bedroom, his office. They kept their voices low and made observations about the scenes, comparing Scott’s beard to Jacob Marley’s and Jake to one of Scrooge’s nephews.
“What’s Christmas like in Severton?” she said after taking what seemed like fifty photos of different Christmas displays.
Zack groaned. “Have you readThe Grinch That Stole Christmas?”
“Of course.” She snapped one of him.
“Whoville. With more trees. And possibly more parties and weird traditions.”
“Tell me about the traditions. I lived in the city. Our traditions were putting up a tree and not much else. Maybe we’d have some lights outside,” she said, standing close enough to him to be touching.
“We hold off until December first, even though the shops have started already. My mum always used to have started before then—we’d have stir in Sunday…”
“To start the Christmas pudding?” she said, excited. “I want to do that this year. Although it might just be me eating it. My parents are travelling, my sister will be swamped with her husband’s family and Gwensi is going to her boyfriend’s in Cardiff. I’d best make a small pudding. Although I could do more and use it for the Sunrise Christmas dinner.”
“Why don’t you come to us at the farm?” he said without thinking. “We usually end up with about fifteen or so people there. My mum might be back. Jonny will probably come with the kids and there are usually a few others too.”
She gave a nod and smiled tightly. “It’s a kind offer.”
“Then accept it.”
“Provisionally. Unless Chris Hemsworth decides an English redhead is more his type.”
Zack flexed his arm and made his bicep bulge. “I can pretend to be Chris Hemsworth…”
