A Proper Family Christmas (25 page)

At that moment Hilary seriously could have killed him.

* * *

Peace at last! William didn't even bother to put the TV on. It was so nice not to have people talking all round him for once. The children's parents had gone upstairs to resolve some problem with stockings. - Trouble brewing there, to judge by Lesley's face! Margery was making herself a sandwich in the kitchen, and Hilary had offered to do one for William, probably as an excuse to escape from Leo, who seemed determined to get something off his chest. He had gone off to the study now in a sulk.

Poor Hilary was looking tired this evening, - unwell, actually. He must try and find out if anything was wrong. She and Oliver seemed to be avoiding each other, after being such friends earlier, and now he'd gone for this mysterious walk with Daniel, - hardly to seduce him, whatever Tony said.

It had been a good day. William had found several ways of entertaining himself, apart from that most enjoyable film. Even the Christmas tree was looking rather attractive with all its twinkling lights, and when Scratch saw his chance and made towards it, William took the trouble to pick him up and put him on his lap instead. They both settled down for a little snooze.

“Ah good, he's alone!”

William shut his eyes tighter and gave an inward groan.

“Are you awake, Father?”

No.

“We wanted to have a little word with you.”

“I'm asleep,” said William.

“…It's so difficult to find a moment, with all these people in the house.”

He gave in and sat up slowly. Scratch did the same, glared at Stephen and Lesley, and climbed down onto the floor.

“If you're trying to persuade me to move into a home again…”

“No, no, it's something completely different,” said Stephen.

“Though I still think it would be far more sensible…”

“…In that case,” said William, “you must have come to find out what I want for Christmas.”

“No, Father,” she gave Stephen an ‘oh dear' look, “we've already got your present, - we told you, remember? It's that book we thought you ought to read…” Irony was quite lost on Lesley.

“It's nothing to do with Christmas,” Stephen interrupted. “…Rather a sombre subject, I'm afraid, but it's something we all have to think about.” He produced a piece of paper that one might almost say he'd been concealing behind his back. “We want you to sign this.”

“What is it?” - As if he couldn't read what it said on the cover.

“Well actually, Dad, it's a will form.”

“You want me to make out my
will
, - on Christmas Eve?”

Even Lesley wriggled a bit. “…It was the only time we could get you alone, Father, - to talk discreetly, I mean.” She looked at Stephen for help.

He tried the firm approach. “It's got to be done, Father. Everybody needs to make a will. Lesley and I went to a solicitor as soon as Tobias was born…”

“I don't think they let you give them back!” murmured William.

“…To make sure he'd get everything if we were in an accident or something. It's only common sense.”

“And you just want me to sign it. What about the rest?”

“Oh, we can fill it in later. You needn't worry about that now.”

William didn't intend to worry about it at all. He turned the document over and scanned every word of it with infinite slowness. Any moment Hilary would be back with his sandwich.

“As you say, it's a very serious subject.” He picked up the pen Stephen had handed him, and put it down again with a sigh. “…I really feel it deserves some more weighty consideration.”

“Yes, but not too much more, Father.” Lesley glanced at the door. “After all, you are going to leave things to Stephen…”- Got her! “It's just a matter of signing your name, and we can sort out the details.”

“Well, yes, so it is,” said William, hearing Hilary and Margery coming down the hall, “ - if that's what I
am
going to do. …Oh thank you, Hilary! That looks delicious.”

CHAPTER 16

Christmas Day! The sinking feeling was all too familiar. People might say that you don't know what you've got till it's gone, but Hilary had always known that those Christmases when Ben was alive and Daniel a youngster were precious. Even then she'd had the nervous underlying feeling that perhaps they weren't for ever. - In those days it was the mother's fear that something would happen to her child. So every Christmas morning since Ben had died, Hilary had woken with that awful thump of grief, in the realisation that they would never share it again. And this year, just when there might have been a glimmer of light in her long tunnel, it had been suddenly snuffed out, making the gloom even deeper than before. …How she wished she'd never come down to Haseley! If only she'd had the strength of mind to refuse William's plea and spend it at home eating chocolate and watching TV on her own as she'd planned. The idea seemed positively blissful now.

“Mum?” There was a knock at the door.

“Yes, come in, darling.”

“Happy Christmas!” He gave her a bear-hug. - Thank God for Daniel in her life!

“The children are already at each other's throats over their stockings,” he reported cheerfully. “Leo wanted to know if you were up yet, so I said ‘no', and if you were, you certainly wouldn't want to waste Christmas morning listening to him yabbering…”

“Oh Daniel, you didn't!”

“ - Well, perhaps not in so many words. And Oliver said to wish you ‘Happy Christmas'.”

“That was nice of him.” …A strange kind of message. What did it mean?

“Yes, - well he's a nice man.” Daniel was giving her one of his close looks. She fiddled with her hair-brush to avoid it. “You do
like
Oliver, don't you, Mum?”

“Of course I do. He's charming.” That sounded natural, didn't it?

“He hasn't offended you in some way, - or said anything to upset you?”

“Good lord, no! Why would you think that?” …Change the subject - quickly! “We had a nice day yesterday, didn't we? How are you getting on with Frances?”

He made a face. “I'm not sure. …I mean, I like her a lot, and when you were in the church, she was really beginning to open up, and tell me all about her family and everything.”

“So?”

“Well, then she suddenly withdrew again, and I felt I couldn't get near her. …It's partly to do with those bullies she works for! I think she's afraid that if Ratso sees her fraternising with the Young Master, she'll turn her off without a character.”

“Oh, Daniel!” Hilary was amused, but in a way she suspected he was right about Frances. She was a sensitive girl, and must cringe at the thought of her behaviour being compared to that of the dreadful Shelley.

“ - At least, I
hope
that's what it is, and she hasn't just gone off me,” he sighed. “We don't want two broken hearts in the place.” …Was that really what he'd said, or had she misheard? Did he
know
? - But he wasn't looking at her.

“I'm sure she hasn't gone off you, darling. She's far too sensible!” And Hilary was far too sensible to add how much she herself liked Frances, and would love things to work out. No sense in killing the relationship off before it had begun!

“It's not
fa-air
! Posy's got more presents than me!”

“No she hasn't, darling. We counted them very… I mean, it just
looks
more because Posy's stocking is more stretchy.” Lesley pulled at it to show him.

What was wrong with the child? Frances's brothers would have had that stocking dismantled and half the contents eaten by this time of the morning!

“Why don't you just open them, Tobias?” she suggested. “Posy's started hers already.”

Tobias glanced at his cousin, and set to work, as if there might be a danger of her moving on to his, if he wasn't quick enough. - Perhaps he was right.

“While he's busy…” Lesley murmured, raising an eyebrow at Frances. She beckoned her across the landing into their room. “Perhaps you could give us a hand in here.”

“Good heavens!”

Stephen sat on the bed, surrounded by Christmas paper and presents, obviously making an attempt to marry the two together. He looked up in relief. “Ah, Nanny? Are you any good with this kind of thing?”

As it happened, parcel wrapping was one of Frances's talents. She sat down beside him and got stuck in. Lesley took on the task of labelling, and Stephen of finding things at her instruction. He wasn't very adept at that either.

“I know I brought down that vase we got for Julia! Is it still in the suitcase? …Well,
look
, Stephen, - it could be in the lining, or something. …Oh dear, where's Margery's soap gone? I had it a moment ago. …No, that's for Hilary, - it's freesia. Margery's is the lavender one.”

Frances worked quietly, noting how every other gift to be wrapped was something ‘a little extra' for Tobias, and musing on Lesley's complete lack of imagination when choosing presents for anybody else. They must have forgotten she was there after a while.

“I do hope your father's going to read this book! It was very expensive. …Such a pity he was so stubborn last night.”

“Yes, it makes one wonder who he
is
planning to leave things to,” said Stephen, staring with a worried frown at the worm-eaten old wardrobe, though it probably wasn't quite what he had in mind.

“I'm sure he wouldn't do anything silly…” Lesley's expression suggested she wasn't all that sure. “It's not as if Julia had a son to carry on the name.” She glanced affectionately in the direction of the room next door.

“Aunt Margery clearly thinks the options are still open,” Stephen pointed out grimly. “She didn't ask Dad to the cinema yesterday because she's a fan of James Bond!”

“You mean she has hopes for Leo? Oh God save us!”

“Well, if Ben had lived… It's no secret how William dotes on Daniel,” said Stephen, by way of finishing his sentence. “But Leo hasn't any children of his own, at least, so Daniel would be his natural next of kin.”

“And that's why Hilary's hanging round him, of course,” said Lesley, with the confidence of one who's fathomed out another's deepest motives, “ - to make sure nothing goes astray, so to speak.”

“Yes, she won't want him marrying someone else and starting another family…”

Frances thought she'd been remarkably restrained not to jump up and throttle them both. As it was, she must have let out a choking noise. Whatever, it was enough to make them glance in her direction and then at each other.

“Yes, well,” Stephen coughed, “perhaps we should talk about this another time. …Is that Tony's you've wrapped there? I'll put it in the pile.”

Hilary decided she could do without breakfast, - everyone being bright and Christmassy, and Oliver would be down there, starting on the dinner. It wasn't as if he needed her help, - he'd made that quite clear! - no doubt in reaction to her own apparent coolness, since she could no longer persuade herself he hadn't noticed anything wrong, after Daniel's unsubtle attempts at interrogation. She didn't feel up to the effort of trying to convince him that he was mistaken.

The weather didn't look too bad this morning. Perhaps she could slip out for a while? On occasions like this, one was grateful for the back stairs…

“There you are, Hilary! I've been looking for you.”

“Oh Leo, - right. …I was just off for a little walk.”

“Good. I'll join you.” …Not a suggestion of asking whether she minded. How wonderful to go through life with such self confidence!

“Er, if it's okay with you, Leo, I'd quite like to be alone.”

“No, that's fine,” said Leo obligingly. “We won't tell anyone else we're going.”

He all but marched her out of the house and along the lane, turning uphill towards the windy field known as Haseley Common. …Hilary had rather fancied going down to look at the village on Christmas morning.

“I've been wanting to have a word with you about yesterday afternoon,” he said, as soon as they could be considered out of earshot. “You must have been wondering what was going on.”

No, she hadn't. For a moment she couldn't even think what he might be talking about. “…Oh - you and Kath, in the cupboard!”

“Yes, quite.” Leo reddened at the memory. “I wouldn't want you to think… We were only playing Sardines.”

“Of course you were.”

“You needn't sound like that!”

Like what, for heaven's sake? The man was a walking touch-paper.

“…The woman dragged me into the cupboard with her. It wasn't my fault! Good lord, she's the last person I'd ever… I mean - ugh!”

Leo's expression was so full of distaste that Hilary was hard put to it not to giggle. She wondered how far to tease him, but it wasn't so much fun on her own.

“It's all right, I quite understand. - Kath isn't really your type, is she?”

“No, my ‘type' is a different kind of woman altogether,” he said, with an arch look that made her hurry to change the subject.

“Did you find it difficult coping with her boys yesterday? I expect they gave you quite a hard time.”

…Oh no, he had taken this as criticism! His face stiffened defensively. “Anybody would have had problems keeping those children under control, - they're completely out of hand! I did manage to exert my influence in the end, and encourage them to calm down.”

“How clever of you.” - It was easier to play the game.

“So did you enjoy your trip to the cinema?” Leo went on, not wanting to know. “Nice of William to invite you out, I thought.” His raised eyebrow suggested an agenda here.

“It was your mother's idea really.”