‘This is gorgeous,’ Amber enthused as they neared the house. There was a covered balcony along the upper floor, accessed by a set of stone steps.
Even Suzanne stopped to look at the house with admiration. ‘It definitely looks seventeenth century to me,’ she said.
‘The balcony was a spinning gallery, where the women used to spin wool outside in the old days,’ Sophie said, remembering what Brody had told her. ‘There are still a few left on farmhouses in the Lake District.’
‘Have we woken up in a costume drama?’ Una asked, holding hands with Hugo.
‘Last night was surreal, that’s for sure,’ Sophie replied,thinking that spending Christmas Day with Brody and his fiancée was going to be very strange, but she’d put on a brave face in front of the guests.
‘Morning. Happy Christmas!’
Brody opened the door, wearing a reindeer sweater and a Santa hat. Harold dashed out, barking excitedly, before running back inside and skidding on the hall flagstones.
The scent of wood-smoke mingled with what Sophie recognised as mulled-wine spices and baking. She steeled herself to face not only Tegan, but the typical Christmas celebrations she’d been trying to avoid.
Pete Nowak was the first to respond with a ‘Happy Christmas!’ and shake Brody’s hand.
The hall was soon filled with barking and greetings.
Amber looked around her in awe at the carved panels, flagged floors and oak staircase.
‘It reminds me of a National Trust house we used to visit,’ Suzanne remarked. ‘An old farmhouse, hundreds of years old, that hadn’t been altered for centuries. My dad used to go on about how beautiful it was …’
Sophie noticed Amber watching her half-sibling closely. Had the farmhouse triggered memories for her too? If it had, Amber didn’t say anything.
‘I’m afraid Felltop has had many alterations,’ Brody said. ‘There’s Wi-Fi, by the way, as I’m sure some of you are desperate for it. You can charge your phones too.’
Harold ran up to Sophie, greeting her like an old friend, which involved hand-licks and rolling over to have histummy rubbed. Brody avoided her eye. Sophie wondered how Tegan had reacted to his invitation and if he was already regretting the offer, in the cold light of day.
‘I hope everyone is OK with dogs,’ Brody said to the escapees. ‘This is Harold, who’s a big softy.’
‘He really is,’ Sophie agreed, as Harold turned his attention to the Hartley-Brewers.
‘Oh!’ Una cried, being greeted by Harold thumping his tail against her legs and jumping up at Hugo.
‘Harold! Leave people alone!’ A fresh voice with a transatlantic twang heralded the arrival of Tegan from the kitchen. Dressed in a sparkly jumper and a silver leather skirt, she reminded Sophie of a hip snow-queen. The children were wide-eyed.
‘It’s Elsa!’ the little one said, pointing at Tegan, who smiled.
‘Look at that tree, Daddy!’
‘I’mso-o-osorry,’ Tegan trilled. ‘Brody, can you please shut Harold up somewhere!’
‘Don’t worry, we love dogs,’ Hugo said. ‘Ours passed away in the autumn.’
‘So it’s seemed very quiet at home, with the kids away and no dog,’ Una added, stroking Harold’s back.
‘I bet,’ Brody sympathised. ‘But Harold is very over-excited,’ he said, grabbing his collar. ‘I think you should settle down, boy. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and have a treat?’
Harold seemed in two minds about this, enjoying all the new people fussing over him, but Brody kept hold of him firmly.
A beaming Tegan spoke. ‘Now, shall I take your coats and you can all warm up in the snug?’
‘Can I plug my phone in first?’ Pete asked. ‘Mine’s about to give up the ghost!’
A chorus of ‘Mine too’ followed.
‘Of course,’ Tegan replied, beaming. ‘There are plenty of sockets. It’s such a huge place! Far too big for the two of us, isn’t it, Brody?’ She linked arms with him.
