Libby’s marching past, flicking on the lights in the kitchen. ‘They’ve probably gone for champagne supplies.’
Fliss hisses at me under her breath. ‘Or more likely, they’ve run short of Viagra and lube.’
I wink at her. ‘Is someone jealous …?’
Tiff comes out of the kitchen. ‘They aren’t in the kitchen or the family areas.’
Then I notice Willow, hands across her chest, looking around the courtyard, and have a rush of gratitude for the way her sage oil saved me yesterday. ‘Everything okay there?’
She’s looking perplexed. ‘I’m picking up something … something unresolved … something crying out for our attention …’
Fliss must be feeling helpful too. ‘Do we need a candle for that?’ She shoots me an eye roll.
Then it hits me. ‘All this going out, we still haven’t decorated the trees! You’ll feel much more settled when we’ve got those done, Willow, we all will.’ So much sensitivity – it’s a bit unnerving.
Willow nods. ‘Thanks, let’s just stay open and vigilant anyway.’ As she passes me she puts her hand on my arm. ‘We’re going to have to do some work together, Ivy, that sage oil I gave you hasn’t cleared anything.’
‘It sorted the donkey smell.’ I grin at her, determined to show myself I’m over yesterday’s wobble. ‘Let’s get the trees done first, I can sort my chakras out any time.’
She’s smiling at me over her shoulder as she walks into the house. ‘You won’t feel right until you do, Ivy.’
‘Jeez.’ I let out a sigh and shake my head at Fliss. ‘What is she going on about, I’m totally fine.’
Fliss pulls a face. ‘We both know you’re not.’ She pulls me into a squeeze. ‘You do a bloody good job of hiding it though. I just wish we knew what to do to make things better for you.’
Fliss has been there for me through all the chaos, picking up the pieces. And sometimes I wish she wouldn’t do this. Mostly I’m totally okay. The second someone understands, I crack. My mouth’s filling with saliva, and I swallow it down. ‘I’m doing Christmas – in a bloody castle – if that doesn’t make me feel great, what will?’
She passes me a hanky. ‘It’s a temporary fix. Like putting a band aid on a fractured femur. What about afterwards, in January?’
She’s staring at me really hard. I scrape my hanky over my eyes and dab my nose. ‘Hey, I’m not that broken.’
‘Aren’t you?’
Realistically she’s the one who’s staring at an impossible January – getting two kids up and out of the house before seven every morning, finding nursery fees, doing a full day’s work then going home to thirteen hours of screaming kids again. So long as I stop my flashbacks running riot in my head, I can keep things at bay. Problem solved.
As I hear a loud trundling noise I look around and blow out a breath. ‘Saved by the log trolley. It’s Keef, bringing in the wood.’
I have to say, he’s got excellent timing. What’s more, his cornering is way better than Bill’s. He sweeps around in a huge curve and pulls the trolley to a neat halt by the back door next to a stack of empty baskets.
‘How’s it going, Keef?’ Oscar scoots up and gives him a fist bump.
‘Great thanks, little guy.’ Keef turns him upside down, and puts him back on his feet again, then turns to us. ‘Is someone having a Dido moment out front?’
‘Sorry …?’ I havenoidea what the hell he’s talking about and from the way Fliss is frowning neither has she.
‘A white flag over the door? That’s what Dido sang about isn’t it?’
Fliss gets in first. ‘The whole point ofthatsong was that Dido said shewasn’tputting a white flag over her door because she wasn’t surrendering and giving in to her broken heart. Why?’
No one’s supposed to know, Dido’s what she cries herself to sleep to when Rob’s really late home. That’s why she’s so up on the details the rest of us wouldn’t have a clue about.
Keef shrugs. ‘Well, whether it’s Dido or pirates, something like a flag’s appeared over ours, I saw it just now. Come round and take a look for yourselves.’
He props the trolley handle against the wall, and we scoop up Harriet and as we follow him out of the courtyard we run into Bill on his way back from the coach house.
I might as well warn him. ‘Pirates have taken over the castle, Bill, you might need to come too.’
As we come around the front, sure enough, there’s a large piece of white cotton fabric flapping around, its end jammed in the first floor window frame.
