‘You’ll have to ask him over here, then,’ said Jessica, as if there was no possible argument against the idea. ‘What about offering him Christmas lunch?’
‘I don’t think Thea would like that,’ sighed Stephanie. ‘We’ve got enough visitors already.’
Chapter Eleven
Thea’s thoughts were in a jumble as she trotted along the road to Mrs Yacop’s house. It had been a spontaneous burst of neighbourliness that had prompted her to offer, earlier in the week, to get the wine, prompted by the spirit of Christmas and a sense that Drew would approve. The woman had sprained her ankle and was relying on other people to do her shopping for her. Mulled wine, it seemed, was a crucial element of Christmas Eve in her house, but her husband had forgotten to buy the essential ingredients and was now too busy to go back for them. ‘Just get the ready-made stuff,’ Mrs Yacop had sighed. ‘That’ll have to do.’ And Thea had obediently bought two bottles, taken them home with her own shopping, and promptly forgotten about them.
It wasn’t surprising, she told herself. There was far too much to think about already. As she walked, a host of dilemmas preoccupied her. Should she phone Gladwin? If so, how much should she disclose about the Frowses? Should she really keep the whole business from Drew? Should she think again about inviting his mother to come and stay? Had she got enough food for the next two days? Would the children like their stocking presents? Was Jessica going to be all right? Would Damien be as much of a pain as usual?
She lingered only a few minutes over the delivery of the mulled wine. The Yacops were in no state to be hospitable. Their two boys were rampaging, the husband was slamming pans about in the kitchen, and the poor wife was pale and obviously desperate. ‘I shouldn’t be walking on it,’ she worried, looking down at her badly swollen ankle. ‘It hurts dreadfully.’
‘They say a sprain is more painful than a fracture,’ Thea sympathised. ‘You need to put it up.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ said the woman, who was forty-five, but looked and behaved ten years older. Thea did not much like her, but attempted to remain on good terms, if only because Timmy and the two boys were of a similar age and friends were always a good thing. There was always the hope of shared driving to and from the big school, too, once Timmy and the older boy left the primary.
She turned back towards home, but was suddenly in no hurry. Jessica and Stephanie got along well and would probably be glad of some time alone. All that awaited Thea was more work – lighting the fire, feeding the dog, preparing the turkey, and then filling the Christmas stockings. Before that, Drew and Timmy would be back, bringing stories that would have to be listened to. It all made her feel weary.
It was almost dark, but her eyes had adjusted and she could see well enough. A man was walking towards her, carrying something of an awkward shape. ‘Gosh – is that a gun?’ she asked him, without thinking.
He laughed. ‘No, it’s not a gun,’ he said. ‘It’s a metal detector.’
When Thea and Hepzie had gone, Jessica proposed a drink and a mince pie, rather than the biscuit she’d originally suggested. ‘We should eat some of them now. There’ll be so much other food tomorrow, they’ll get forgotten and go stale,’ she said. ‘And Drew and Tim won’t want much when they get back – if anything.’
They had two mince pies each, sitting in the kitchen to eat them. ‘I don’t expect we’ll be moving the table into the living room, after all,’ said Jessica. ‘Too much of an upheaval.’
‘It would be nice, though. Candles and crackers and the thing you said you’d brought. It would be much more Christmassy than eating in here.’
‘It’s a centrepiece. We’ll see if we can persuade Thea to do it, then. We could get it done today, all ready for the big day.’
‘Better leave it till tomorrow. Thea’s going to need it to put things on, isn’t she?’
Jessica swigged her tea and let the matter drop.
Stephanie was still not quite free of thoughts of death and funerals. Instead of shaking them off, she found herself recalling her mother’s burial, and the wild emotions it had aroused. Poor Timmy had been inconsolable, and Dad had been a mess. But time had eased nearly all the pain, helped by a determination to talk about Karen without restraint. Now, by association, her thoughts slid to the death of her unknown grandfather. ‘Dad must be sad about his father dying,’ she said slowly. ‘It must be horrible, not seeing him for so long, and now never seeing him again.’ Tears filled her eyes at this sudden rush of sympathy. ‘We didn’t think about it properly, did we?’
‘There wasn’t time. Everything happened so fast. I think he wanted to try and get it over with before Christmas. But you’re right – he might not be very jolly tomorrow. We’ll have to remember what’s happened and be nice to him.’
‘Thea as well,’ said Stephanie with a small flicker of anxiety. Her stepmother was not always quite as nice to Drew as she should be. She complained about all the cooking she had to do, and snapped if he mentioned that there was mud in the hallway, which people coming to arrange funerals might see.
‘I’ll have a word with her,’ Jessica promised.
Another abrupt switch took place in Stephanie’s mind. ‘I wonder if that metal detector man found anything,’ she said. ‘It was a funny place to be looking, wasn’t
