Page 74 of Mirrors of the Past

Chapter Twenty-Eight

1911

Over at Pencradoc, much the same Christmas Eve scenario was playing out with excited children. Marigold was, obviously, the focus of the entire day. She had turned up with her parents and Uncle Fabian, rosy-cheeked and be-mittened, scrambling out of the carriage and falling up the steps in her haste to get into Pencradoc.

A good, caring licking from Biscuit soon had her back on her feet, the holes in her stockings forgotten, along with her grazed knees, as the dog urged her into the house.

Laurie, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded, was smiling in his own quiet way at their antics. He’d already been out and about, doing some last-minute errands, but had made sure he’d returned in time for the newlyweds’ arrival. He followed them in after he’d greeted his sister and her new husband (husband! Goodness gracious), and almost fell over Arthur, who was standing manfully in the hallway, legs planted far apart, a serious expression on his face. He had his hands behind his back, but, as Marigold ran up to him, he produced from its hidden place the family star for the top of the tree.

The tree had already been largely decorated — mainly by Isolde and Medora who felt that the boys could not do it quite as nicely as they could — but the top of the tree was naked, waiting for the youngest member of the family to finish the task.

‘Marigold Louisa Ashby,’ said Arthur importantly. ‘It gives me great pleasure to hand the Pencradoc Christmas Star over to you.’ He bowed and held the star out.

‘Thank you!’ Marigold’s eyes were wide. She curtsied very prettily and took the star. ‘But I do not think I can reach the tree. I may have to put it somewhere else.’

She looked at Biscuit thoughtfully and Elsie stepped in. ‘Darling, your papa will lift you up. Biscuit does not want the star attached to him, I promise.’

‘Because your mama did that when she was small as well,’ said Laurie. ‘And I was even smaller, but I can remember that Biscuit was not a very happy dog.’

‘She only did it so that I couldn’t put it on the tree,’ said Clem. ‘She was cross with me that day.’

‘Hush, hush, hush,’ said Elsie, flapping her hands around. ‘Once Biscuit had calmed down, it was quite all right.’

Laurie could remember Biscuit racing around, trying to shake the annoying object off his head, knocking little Nancy over in the process. All the Wheal Mount girls had been there that Christmas and Nancy had been just small enough to get under everyone’s feet and in everyone’s way. He didn’t know how Elsie had attached it to Biscuit, but the dog had caused even more chaos than was usual for a Pencradoc Christmas Eve.

So, on this particular Christmas Eve, Louis very gallantly lifted his small daughter up in the air and allowed her to place the star on top of the tree, and everyone clapped and cheered, and Marigold — her mother’s daughter all over — curtsied again.

Stories, games, hot drinks and food ensued, after which Marigold was safely settled in bed — and Laurie was once again lurking in the hallway, peering out of the open door, with one eye on the clock . . .

Because a certain carriage was supposed to be coming to Pencradoc tonight and he really wanted to be there to welcome the occupants.

‘Everything good, old fellow?’ Fabian appeared with a glass of sherry in his hand and another glass for Laurie.

‘It will be. I hope,’ said Laurie, gratefully accepting the drink. ‘Just a few things I need to get right first.’

Fabian grinned and clapped Laurie on the back. ‘Have no fear. I’m here. And look — it’s beginning to snow. Surely that’s a good sign!’ Fabian was spending Christmas with the family as he had a somewhat difficult relationship with his sister, the only family he had. Elsie had called the sister a “damned bigot” to Laurie and had absolutely no time for her. She was very unlike the Pencradoc clan, who accepted anyone for whatever they were.

Fabian was a good friend and Laurie knew that tonight was a night he’d be relying on his friend, and he crossed his fingers, hoping it would all work out.

‘I say,’ said Fabian, peering out of the door over Laurie’s shoulder. ‘That can’t be them, can it?’

‘Not unless they’ve walked,’ said Laurie, watching the lamplit procession coming up the drive towards the house.

As the procession became closer, he saw that it was a group of carol singers. He smiled, remembering the choir he’d seen in London with Viola just a couple of weeks ago.

‘Best let everyone know we’ve got company,’ said Laurie and headed back into the house to rally the family. Soon they were all outside Pencradoc, on the top of the steps, listening to the carol singers.

So involved was Laurie in the visit — because of course the musical wassailers then had to be offered a hot spiced drink and it turned out that apparently that was his job — that he must have missed what he was waiting for, because once all the drinks had been handed out he felt warm breath on his neck, making a shiver run down his spine. And he turned around and there she was, at his shoulder, smiling.

‘They took the carriage straight to the stable — we got off just around there.’ She pointed around the corner. ‘Didn’t want to intrude on the festivities. So we snuck in.’

‘Very good,’ he said, before he could think or speak or come up with any rational conversation whatsoever. ‘I mean — yes — sorry. Good to see you. You’re not intruding, not at all. Would you like some warmed cider? Or mulled wine, perhaps?’

‘No. Thank you. I think for now I just want to enjoy the music and then head into the warmth.’ She shivered despite her warm-looking coat and the inevitable hand muff. ‘It’s utterly charming out there, what with the snow and everything. But it’s still damned cold.’

Laurie couldn’t help but smile. The family entertained the wassailers a little longer, then waved them off, and he was just about to offer to escort Viola into the drawing room, where he knew a huge fire blazed, and where soon they’d be lighting the Yule log, but, before he could speak, Isolde and Medora swooped on the girl and bore her away. Sam, he saw, had been adopted by Clem and they were talking earnestly at the bottom of the stairs, and Pearl and Ernie were with Elsie and Louis beneath the Christmas tree in the hallway. Then Louis and Ernie wandered away, into the drawing room.

‘Yes,’ El was saying. ‘Marigold put the star on the tree tonight.’ There was a wobble in her voice, though, and Laurie cast a glance over to her. Then El suddenly howled. ‘Oh, Pearl! How could I have kept her away so lo-o-o-ong?’ Then there was general weeping and a friendly patting of his sister on the arm and murmurs of “there, there”, and he, Laurie, shook his head in despair. He knew that women could often become over-emotional when they were in a certain condition, and in this area, it seemed, his sister was very traditional indeed.