Once Upon A Christmas. Jennifer Joyce. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jennifer Joyce
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474048514
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time? That, she thought to herself, would depend very much on the person with whom she might be living. She shot a glance across at Justin as he was looking away from her and wondered idly if she might want to live with him. Almost as soon as the thought had come, she squashed it. Let’s see how I feel after three dates. Maybe Julia wasn’t wrong about her after all. Besides, she wasn’t totally sure yet that this was a date. Maybe he was taking her to meet his wife…

      The Castle was a splendid Victorian building, built in the Gothic style and set in grounds so vast that the drive alone must have been over a mile long. Spectacular trees rose up on both sides and huge clumps of rhododendrons would, no doubt, provide a wonderful display in the spring and summer. Justin parked right outside the main building and a porter in a spotless white shirt with a red and gold waistcoat ushered them into a magnificent panelled hall. In the middle of the room was just about the biggest Christmas tree Holly had ever seen outside of Trafalgar Square. The room itself was well over fifteen metres high and yet the tree almost touched the ceiling.

      ‘Tradition dictates that the tree is always at least fifty feet high.’ Clearly, Justin was enjoying acting as her guide and watching her reaction.

      ‘As an engineer, I’ve been wondering how they got it in through the revolving doors.’ The tree was festooned with silver and gold baubles, tinsel and lights, and decorating it must have involved some serious scaffolding. Holly caught his eye and smiled. ‘I also wonder what this has done to the hotel’s insurance premiums.’

      ‘Spoken like a true professional.’

      ‘Well, whichever way you look at it, that’s one hell of a tree.’

      Justin smiled and she walked with him into the dining room. This, too, was magnificent. The immaculate headwaiter accompanied them to a table for two, looking out over a formal garden with perfectly trimmed box hedges, stylish statues, and a central fountain that looked like it had come from the palace of Versailles. Although it was still only mid-afternoon, the sky was overcast, and the water was already illuminated with green and yellow lights. As she sat down, the waiter gently pushed her chair in for her. Seconds later he picked up her napkin, shook it open and laid it on her lap. She gave him a smile and he nodded regally before doing the same for Justin and then withdrawing.

      Holly looked across the table and caught Justin looking at her. ‘What a place!’ For a moment she thought about asking him if he often brought girls here, but she decided against it. Somehow she rather thought he did. Certainly he seemed very familiar with the surroundings. And the surroundings were magical, with wood panelling all around the room, stone mullions at the windows and intricate plasterwork on the ceiling. Christmas decorations in here were very stylish – white and gold ribbons and balls, along with holly, ivy and pine branches. In the middle of the room stood a grand piano, half concealed under a mass of Christmas decorations. A distinguished-looking old man with a shiny bald head was playing a medley of film tunes, just loud enough to be audible, but not loud enough to be intrusive. The other guests were a mixture of adults and children, all remarkably well behaved.

      Justin had the menu in his hands. ‘They offer traditional high tea or champagne high tea. As it’s Christmas, shall we go for the champers?’

      Holly nodded and smiled. ‘I’ve got nothing against tea, but there’s something so special about champagne.’ Justin called the waiter over and placed the order. Then he turned back to Holly and gave her an appraising look.

      ‘Well if they were giving out prizes for who’s got the most beautiful girl with him, I’d win hands down.’

      Holly inclined her head towards him in finest Regency style. ‘Why thank you, kind sir.’ She grinned. ‘And you scrub up pretty well yourself.’ As usual, he was looking very smart.

      ‘So, how’s it going with the clear up in your dad’s house? It can’t be easy, having to sift through all his stuff. You must keep finding things that bring back so many memories.’ He suddenly realised what he had said. ‘But, of course, you don’t really have those memories as far as your dad’s concerned, do you?’

      Holly shook her head. ‘Of course, you know the story, don’t you? Pretty much everybody in the village seems to know it. He just disappeared from my life and never bothered to make contact again.’ She dropped her head. The afternoon had been going so well up till then.

      ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Holly. Maybe when he was in Australia he couldn’t stay in contact, but I’m sure he must have tried when he came back here. Didn’t your mother say anything?’ He had a thought. ‘My father might remember. He and George were great friends until my dad went off to South Africa to live. I’ll give him a ring one of these days and ask him.’

      At that moment two waitresses appeared with a trolley and they both sat back. The girls began piling more food onto the table than Holly had eaten in the past week. There were scones, clotted cream, four types of jam, gorgeous homemade biscuits, no fewer than three different types of cake, éclairs, little sandwiches, some on brown bread, some on white, naturally with the crusts cut off. These were filled with cucumber, smoked salmon, or roast beef and horseradish sauce. In deference to the season, there were also two slices of Christmas cake with thick icing, studded with little silver balls. A wine waiter brought a bottle of champagne, opened it with only the slightest hiss, set it in an ice bucket on an elaborate stand beside Justin and laid a pristine white cloth across the top. The staff all bowed and withdrew, leaving Holly wondering how on earth they were going to be able to eat even a fraction of what was on the table.

      ‘Bloody hell, Justin, what a spread!’ She immediately rather regretted not saying ‘gadzooks’ or ‘upon my word’, rather than ‘bloody hell’. It was that sort of place.

      ‘We’ll let the champagne sit for a moment, shall we?’ Holly nodded. She couldn’t help thinking that he looked completely at home in these fine surroundings. He gave her a smile. ‘I’m sorry for the interruption. I was asking you about your mother.’

      Holly had been doing a lot of thinking about her mother over the past couple of weeks. As she heard more and more about her lovely, generous father who had apparently been adored by all around him, the suspicion had started to form in her mind that maybe her mother had lied to her about him – all her life. It was a difficult concept to handle. Her mum had been there for her all through her life and she owed her so much. She had certainly been an inflexible character and they hadn’t always got on, but there had never been any doubt as to the love they bore for each other. The idea that Holly had been deliberately tricked into hating her own father by her mother stuck in the throat. She looked at Justin across the monumental pile of food on the table and did her best to be objective.

      ‘I loved my mum, you know. She brought me up single-handed and it can’t have been easy.’ She caught his eye. ‘And I was a real pain all the way through school. It was easy for me to blame it all on my not having a dad, but other girls were in the same boat and they didn’t rebel half as much as I did.’ She saw the disbelief on his face. ‘It’s true; I may sound like Alice in Wonderland now, but I was Attila the Hun for a good few years.’

      ‘I see you more as Sleeping Beauty.’ He was smiling, doing his best to put her at her ease after inadvertently opening a potential can of worms with his question.

      ‘Are you trying to imply that I look dozy?’ She managed a smile in return. ‘If my dad did try to contact me, and my mum didn’t tell me about it, I know it must have been because she wanted to protect me. Rightly or wrongly, she was convinced he was a bad lot and a bad influence, so she did her best to shut him out of both our lives. It seems harsh when you look at it from his point of view, but she must have had her reasons.’

      He was looking more serious now. ‘Break-ups are tough, especially when there are children involved. I’m only glad my wife and I didn’t have kids.’

      Her eyes inadvertently slid down to his wedding ring. ‘You were married?’

      ‘For ten years. Still am, just. I suppose it’ll have to go to the lawyers any day now.’

      ‘I’m so sorry.’

      He