‘It will be special. It will be Christmas Day. I think it looks lovely. I think the hall needs a tree, though. There are lots of firs on the estate. I’ll arrange for one to be cut and brought here so the servants will have one to enjoy too.’
Rose tweaked a branch to straighten it. ‘I thought Nicholas might like to see this tree.’ She added a bauble in the hope of making it look better. The journey to Carrack House had done it no favours. ‘Mother has closed the shop for Christmas Day and she doesn’t have room for it at her house.’
‘I think Nicholas will be touched you have gone to so much trouble in bringing it here for him to see.’ Evelyn joined her to decorate it. ‘How is your mother?’
Yesterday, Rose had told Evelyn all about her relationship with her mother. She hadn’t intended to, but Evelyn had a way with her that encouraged such confidences. She had persuaded Rose to take a break from nursing Nicholas and stroll with her around the frost-covered gardens to gather evergreen to decorate the house. Nicholas had slept well and his appetite was quickly improving, so there was no need to be constantly by hisside. Even so, Rose was reluctant to leave him. It was Nicholas who finally persuaded her to go.
It turned out that the walk, bright sunshine and biting air was just what she needed. As they explored the grounds, each moss-covered statue, grotto and trailing path held a memory for the older woman and she began to reminisce about her childhood growing up on the estate — both the good and the bad. Rose had listened, learning more about the woman than she knew about her own mother. She would never know if Evelyn had intended the walk to be so revealing, but gradually Rose began to open up about her own relationship with her mother too, sharing her innermost feelings of isolation and rejection with her. Evelyn listened and gradually deconstructed the relationship, analysed it and put it back together in a way that made sense to Rose.
‘Grief affects people in different ways,’ observed Evelyn as she added some conifer leaves to their bundles of spruce, pine and mistletoe which they carried in their arms. ‘Ways which are not always easy to understand or live with. No one is blameless and no one is to blame.’ She dipped her fingers into the pool of a silent fountain as they walked by. ‘Grief is like a heavy shadow that drains one of life. Some can bear it better than others, but everyone feels its force and has to learn how to escape it.’ Evelyn glanced at her. ‘Some find the route of escape sooner than others. Some do not look for it at all.’
Their walk and sharing of their deeply personal family relationships had been a liberating experience for Rose. She felt enlightened and empowered, but most of all she felt that in Evelyn she had made a true friend.
Rose stepped forward and straightened the bauble. ‘The shop has given her purpose again. It is early days, but I can see a change in her already. She let me take the tree without so much as a whispered grumble and I’m sure I heard her boasting toa customer that I was staying at Carrack House.’ Rose hid her smile as she stepped back to look at the tree. Her mother had sounded genuinely proud of her daughter and although it should not matter, the child inside Rose still felt ridiculously happy to have heard the pride in her voice when she was the subject.
‘I think your tree brings some festive cheer into the house.’
Rose knew Evelyn was just being kind. The tree still looked small and dumpy.
‘The room will look better when we hang the garland we made from the evergreen over the fireplace. However, I think it would be a good idea to have a tree in the hall too, if that is alright with you.’
Evelyn agreed. ‘I think the staff would like it. I could arrange for the church choir to visit and we could all sing carols around it.’ She threaded her arm through Rose’s. ‘But I really like this one and think it should stay here. This tree is special and should be treated as such.’
The sound of a car arriving outside interrupted them. They exchanged glances before walking to the window to look out.
‘It can’t be the doctor, he is not due to visit today,’ said Rose. She glanced at Evelyn. She was smiling. ‘Do you know the car?’
Evelyn nodded. ‘And I also know the man getting out. It’s my husband. He’s come home for Christmas.’
* * *
Christmas Day, 1919
Christmas Day had arrived and it was finally time for Nicholas to venture downstairs for the first time. He had rapidly improved over the preceding days. His fever had subsided, his chest had become clearer and his appetite ravenous. He remained weak and tired easily, but the spark in his eyes had returned, together with glimpses of the humour Rose had not seen for far too long. She accompanied him down the stairs, unable to resist fussing ashe slowly made his way one step at a time. She eagerly watched for his reaction as he paused on the bottom step to take in the scene.
His parents were waiting for him and the hall itself had been transformed. A large arrangement of holly, with shiny, blood-red berries, and mistletoe, with its own distinct white pearls, formed a centrepiece of evergreen wrapped in red ribbon. Tendrils of ivy adorned the pillars and alcoves of the hall and provided a fitting setting for the large fir tree decorated with numerous glass baubles, candles, ribbons and paper garlands rescued from a long forgotten trunk.
‘You have all been very busy,’ he remarked, his voice husky with emotion.
‘I had no part in it,’ laughed his father. ‘It was Rose and your mother’s idea.’
‘Mainly Rose’s,’ added Evelyn with a smile.
‘Do you like it?’ asked Rose. Her smile broadened as he looked down at her with a slight curve on his lips.
‘What is there not to like?’ he teased.
‘We have also decorated the drawing room. Come and see. A warm fire is waiting for you.’
Rose led him to the drawing room and stepped aside to allow him through first. Nicholas’s eyes widened as he entered the room and recognised the tree. Rose hurried to explain why it was there.
‘It holds happy memories for me and I wanted to bring them here . . . only it looks so much smaller . . .’
Nicholas reached for her hand, drew her near and wrapped his arms about her. ‘It looks perfect. You are perfect.’
The rest of the day passed in a festive whirl. Carol singers, collecting for charity, arrived clutching old oil lamps in woollen gloved hands. Despite the tips of their noses shining bright red in the frosty morning air, they sang heartily with wide smileson their faces and enough enthusiasm to last the whole day. Afterwards, they were welcomed inside to warm themselves around the flickering fire and drink a glass of sweet, ruby port. All too soon, it was time for them to be on their way. Rose and Nicholas watched them leave through the window, as the lawns and overhanging trees glistened with white frost in the sun.
Goose, with all the festive trimmings, soon followed, with a succulent lit plum pudding coated in a flaming blue haze. After dinner, the servants were invited to join the family around the grand tree in the hall. Evelyn gave each a gift from the family and Rose offered them each a glass of red wine. Nicholas gave a heartfelt speech of thanks and made a toast for peace and goodwill to all men. Everyone raised their glasses in heartfelt agreement.
