Page 70 of Escape for Christmas
‘OK, OK, I know you want your breakfast too.’
To say she hadn’t had the greatest night’s sleep on the sofa was an understatement. Although Agatha and the Hartley-Brewers had kindly helped to clear up her bedroom, she’d need to give it a deep clean before she felt comfortable being back in there. Memories of what she’d seen in her bed kept coming back to Sophie and making her shudder, even though the outcome had been joyful.
She got up, fed the cats and showered hastily in water that was barely tepid. The other guests would be enduring similar privations and she suspected they might all have left if they hadn’t been cut off by the snow. She certainly wouldn’t have blamed them, after the disaster their stay wasturning out to be – a world away from what they’d signed up for.
At least the weather had decided to behave for Christmas morning. Winter sunlight, made dazzling by the snow, shone into the dining room as everyone enjoyed a makeshift breakfast. The boundaries between guests and landlady had long gone, with everyone lending a hand and making the best of things. Nico had brewed up coffee on the camping stove, while Una put the croissants in the oven, which was still slightly warm. Agatha and the Hartley-Brewers had laid the tables in the dining room.
A horrified Jingle and Belle had vanished into the snow to get away from the invaders, but soon returned to dry their soggy fur against the warm oven.
The children had changed into clean clothes in Sophie’s flat, and Pete had called Anna. The children’s delighted reactions as they spoke to their mum and heard their new little sister yelling in the background told Sophie everything she needed to know.
‘She’s doing fine. As is the baby,’ Pete announced. ‘I feel so bad about not being with her, but we’ll just have to be patient.’
Sophie had had to lend Amber some wellies and they were two sizes too big, but she seemed excited about their adventure. ‘It’s very kind of your neighbour to host us all,’ she said gratefully.
Agatha took Suzanne’s arm. ‘You’ll be much cosier at Brody’s place, my dear. He isn’t exactly a stranger now, ishe? He’s a rather marvellous chap. If you could have seen what he had to do last night, you’d think so too. Imagine taking on responsibility for a mother and her newborn …’
Suzanne pursed her lips, then gave a brief smile. ‘You’re right. Especially after everything he did last night,’ she agreed, and Sophie was glad that there had been no more public arguments between the half-sisters – so far.
‘It’ll be much warmer at this farmhouse too,’ Agatha added, winding a woolly scarf around her neck.
‘That’s true. There’s heating, and Brody makes a wonderful fire. I promise you the farmhouse is a far better proposition than Sunnyside today,’ Sophie declared. ‘Shall we go?’ she added cheerily, rounding everyone up.
Suzanne nodded and pulled a beanie hat over her ears, but made no further comment.
Shortly afterwards, Sophie led her motley crew of escapees across the field towards the farmhouse, with each guest carrying food and drink as a contribution to the day’s feasting. The sun was out, showing the landscape cosseted in a duvet of white, from the tops of the high fells down to the lake shore. Water was already dripping from the trees and hedgerows, although the thaw brought by heavy rain wouldn’t arrive until the early hours of Boxing Day.
Nico walked beside her. ‘I don’t think I’d let strangers invade my home on Christmas Day,’ he said. ‘And after being up half the night, delivering a baby, too. Is Brody some kind of saint?’
‘Hardly,’ Sophie muttered. ‘I think he just wants to help.’
The kids were chattering away, the little one in Pete’s arms and the older one kicking up snow and throwing snowballs. ‘Can we make a snowman?’ Baxter asked his dad excitedly, forging ahead into drifts that came up to his waist. Luckily he was in a waterproof onesie.
‘We can, later,’ Pete promised, with a smile that was becoming frazzled.
By contrast, Agatha was remarkably chipper after her night of partying and playing midwife. ‘Gosh, have I woken up and found myself in the Swiss Alps?’ she declared, stopping to take in the panorama of snowy peaks and glittering lake. ‘Now if only those church bells were cow bells.’
Everyone laughed and Sophie was glad to see them all in good spirits. The Hartley-Brewers and Amber whipped out their phones to take pictures of the stunning scene.
‘Is that it?’ Amber said, pointing to Felltop Farm. ‘It looks very old.’
‘It’s well over two hundred years old,’ Sophie said. ‘And apparently there are parts that date back a lot further.’
With its snow-covered roof and whitewashed walls, the farmhouse seemed to grow out of the landscape. The squat chimneys had smoke spiralling out of them, and Sophie imagined the fire blazing inside the snug. Apart from her brief emergency visit last night, the last time she’d been in the house she’d been so full of hopes – only to have them overturned.
‘Are you OK, my dear?’ Agatha was by her side. ‘Only you seem a little distracted.’
‘Do I?’ Sophie smiled, determined to be lively andcheerful, for her guests’ sake. ‘I think it’s sleep deprivation, and I’m sure everyone is tired after last night. Worth it, though.’
‘I know what you mean, although once I did turn in, I went out like a light. Do you know, last night was the first time I felt I truly had a purpose since I lost my dear Ron.’
Sophie squeezed Agatha’s arm. ‘You were fantastic. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’
‘Thank you for saying that. It’s surprising how everything came back to me. I suppose you never forget a lifetime of caring for people …’
‘I’m sure you don’t,’ Sophie replied kindly, realising how very much Agatha must miss the two pillars of her life: her husband and her career.
Trudging through the fresh snow was hard going, but they were soon almost at the farm.
