Avian didn’t look up from her phone. ‘Great, can you get me some tampons, organic preferably, and get me a hairstylist to come to the house for the dates of the twentieth, twenty-fourth, twenty-fifth, and twenty-sixth. The water here screws my hair so I will need it washed and dried every day.’
Marc looked at Peggy. If he could have taken a picture at that moment, he would have titled it, ‘Disgustedly astonished in situ’.
He saw that Christa noticed it also, and she was hiding a smile.
Peggy looked at Marc as though waiting for permission and he gave it, nodding slightly.
‘I don’t buy women’s intimate health items and I do not believe there will be a hairdresser who will give up their Christmas and Boxing Day for you. You can try but I don’t know anyone here who can assist you with that. I am the housekeeper; I am not a concierge. Though if you can’t wash and dry your own hair by now, I am happy to give you a lesson. A woman your age should know these basic life skills. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go and supervise the window cleaners.’
She turned on her heel and left the kitchen, with Avian’s jaw flapping in shock.
Marc handed her the fork with some bacon and pancake on the end, dripping in butter and syrup.
‘Taste?’ he coaxed and Avian, unthinkingly, took the fork and ate the food, chewing slowly.
‘Who the fuck was that?’ she spluttered at Marc.
He stood up from the table and pushed the plate towards her to finish it off.
‘That was Peggy, the one woman you don’t want to make a bad impression on, but sadly I think that horse has bolted.’
‘Christa, boys, let’s see what Bill has in the garden for us today, shall we? You in?’
The boys jumped up and ran to get their coats and hats, while Marc took Christa’s pink puffa from the hook and held it out for her to slip her arms into.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered as she turned to face him and he smiled at her.
He still wanted to kiss her and he wished this Christmas was over, but this time it was for different reasons.
‘Come on, Dad, let’s go,’ yelled one of the boys, opening the kitchen door, and the cold air came inside with a rush.
‘Let’s go,’ he said, recovering from his moment with Christa. ‘First one to the maze is the winner.’
21
Avian and Simon’s self-absorption knew no boundaries. After offending Peggy, Avian then told Paul the decorations were upsetting her allergies and that she thought the styling of the house for Christmas was too busy. Simon was always in the kitchen telling Christa how to cook whatever she was cooking and speaking loudly when Marc was around about the reviews for the restaurant and how Avian had seen his potential during a small appearance he made on a travel show talking about English food.
Christa spent three days hiding in the pantry whenever Avian came into the kitchen, demanding Christa make her fresh almond milk or kefir or sweet potato crisps. Not that Christa was against any of the food Avian asked for; it was the way she asked.
‘I don’t think she knows the words please or thank you,’ Peggy agreed as they chatted over a pot of tea during the afternoon.
‘She won’t stop calling me babe,’ moaned Christa.
Pudding Hall was temporarily peaceful.
The boys were out with Avian, choosing their own Christmas presents, which Marc had argued against over dinner the night before, saying it ruined the surprise.
They boys hadn’t argued but were also unenthusiastic when they headed out in the car to York, with Simon driving Marc’s Bentley.
Now Marc and Adam were upstairs working and Paul was antiquing in some of the surrounding villages.
‘He’s an odd fellow your ex-husband,’ said Peggy, as she poured the tea into the fine china cups. Christa had also made them a simple teacake with cinnamon and sugar topping, the butter dripping down the side into little caramel rivulets that pooled on their plates.
Christa scoffed. ‘That’s a kind description.’
Peggy pushed a cup to her. ‘I mean he’s an odd choice for you.’
‘I suppose. He’s very charming. I think I was initially seduced by his charm and confidence.’
