A Family For Christmas (7 page)

‘Tea should be mashed by now. Shall I pour
or would you prefer to?' Eliza asked automatically, then hesitated wondering if
she'd been too forward in her dealings with this lady she'd only just met.

Rose nodded and smiled. ‘Would you mind?
I've only just got Joshua here quiet and am dying for a hot drink,' she said,
collapsing onto one of the spindle-backed chairs. ‘Are you staying then?' she asked,
nodding to Eliza's bundle.

‘If it's all right with you,'
Eliza said. ‘Woody died in the cold and Duncan says it would be better for Fay to be by
herself.'

The woman's expression changed. ‘Oh,
no,' she said, shaking her head.

‘Well, of course I don't have
to,' Eliza began, snatching up her bundle. She wouldn't stay where she wasn't
wanted although where she'd go she had no idea. Returning to the hobble while Fay was so
distressed wasn't an option.

‘I meant, oh, no, poor Fay. She worshipped
that pigeon. You're very welcome here, Eliza.' Rose smiled.

Then the door clattered open, jolting the baby
awake. As his indignant wails filled the room, the men stood shame-faced on the step.

‘For heaven's sake, hurry up and put
the wood in the hole before we all catch our deaths,' Rose snapped. As Joshua's
lusty yells reverberated around the kitchen, sending a tabby cat, which was winding itself about
Rose's chair, fleeing for cover, she got to her feet and began rocking the infant back and
forth.

‘He was asleep, Ben.' She glared at
her husband accusingly.

‘If it's any help, my mother always
says you should start as you mean to go on,' Eliza said quietly, and Rose stared at her in
surprise. ‘By her reckoning, if a baby gets used to the usual household bustle he'll
ignore it, whereas if you tiptoe around he'll wake at the slightest sound.'

‘Well, it would help if people were more
considerate,' Rose snorted, and stalked out of the room, the baby in her arms.

‘Shall I see if I can help?' Eliza
asked. Ben nodded gratefully.

Upstairs Rose was pacing the floor, tears
streaming down her face while Joshua lay in a beautifully carved
wooden cradle, his face bright red, little fists beating the air
in anger.

‘He hates me,' Rose cried.

‘Of course, he doesn't,' Eliza
soothed. ‘He's just puzzled by his new surroundings. Don't forget he's
been swimming around in a pool of warm water for nine months. Now hush, little one,' she
said, lifting him into her arms. The baby's sobs quietened and he gave a little hic.

‘How did you do that?' Rose asked,
her mouth hanging open in surprise.

Eliza chuckled. ‘Practice. If I
didn't keep the babes quiet at home, Father would hit the roof – or
worse.'

Rose looked at her speculatively, opened her
mouth to say something but was overtaken by a huge yawn.

‘Why don't you go and get some
rest?' Eliza suggested.

‘He'll only start up again as soon as
I walk away.'

‘Take off your cardigan,' Eliza
suggested.

‘Why?' Rose frowned.

‘It'll smell of you and Joshua needs
to be able to recognize your scent in order to settle.'

‘Really?' Rose asked sceptically, but
took it off anyway. Eliza swaddled him in the woollen, then placed him back in his cradle.
Humming softly, she rocked it from side to side until his eyelids fluttered closed and the
hiccups gave way to little snorts.

‘Well I never,' Rose exclaimed.

‘Now he's settled, take a nap,'
Eliza urged.

Rose nodded gratefully and disappeared into a
room on the other side of the stairs.

With a last look at the sleeping infant, Eliza
made her
way back down the stairs. However, her
exertions of the morning caught up with her and she caught her twisted foot on the step. Just as
she began to fall, a hand reached out and pushed her back onto the landing. Shaken, she stared
at the old man before her. With his whiskered chin and kind eyes he reminded her of Grampy.

‘Thank you,' she whispered. He smiled
and waved his clay pipe in a friendly gesture. As he placed it back in his mouth, she noticed
the tops of the fingers on his right hand were missing.

‘Are you all right?' Duncan's
anxious face was peering up the stairs at her.

‘I nearly fell but luckily he saved
me,' she explained, gesturing behind her. Duncan frowned and, spinning round, Eliza saw
the man had disappeared, leaving behind the faintest whiff of tobacco smoke. ‘He was here
a moment ago,' she added, taking Duncan's proffered hand.

‘You need a rest and something to
eat,' he said, helping her towards the kitchen. ‘We've set out
luncheon.' She saw three plates set with slices of mutton pie and pickles.

‘Won't the old man be joining
us?' Eliza asked Ben, who gave her a strange look. ‘Only I saw him on the stairs and
…'

A piercing wail came from upstairs but as Eliza
got up, Ben shook his head.

‘I'll go, you finish your
meal,' he said, giving a rueful grin and striding from the room.

‘I fear you've overdone things,
Eliza. Ben's great-grandfather once lived here but he's been dead for
years.'

‘He can't be. He saved me from
falling. He had the kindest eyes and was smoking a pipe. I remember clearly, for the tops of his
fingers were missing.'

Duncan frowned then got to his feet. ‘Come with
me.'

‘Where are we going?'

‘To see a picture,' he said abruptly,
striding out of the room.

‘Yes, that was the man who saved me,'
Eliza said, as they stood looking at the portrait of the man with kind eyes and whiskered face.
‘Do you believe me now?'

Duncan nodded. ‘I didn't disbelieve
you, Eliza. You haven't had time to venture down to this old hall so you wouldn't
have known about those otherwise, would you?' he said, pointing to the damaged fingers
holding a clay pipe.

‘That's definitely the man who saved
me,' she said, shaking her head in wonder.

‘Apparently, his wife hated him smoking so
he used to hide himself away down here and smoke his pipe in peace.'

‘Do you believe in ghosts, Duncan?'
she asked after a few moments.

‘That's a good question, young un.
Ghosts? Spirits?' He shrugged. ‘What's in a name?'

‘But you do believe?'

‘I believe something of us – our
energy, perhaps – remains behind, otherwise what's the point of this
life?'

‘I'm so pleased,' she said,
clapping her hands excitedly.

‘It means that much to you?'

‘Oh, yes. You see Grampy was the only
person who ever really loved me, what with …' She pointed to her foot and grimaced.
‘Sometimes I feel his presence and find it comforting. He made me this lovely wooden box
for my flowers but I lost it in the snow and …' She came to a halt as they heard Ben
calling them.

Back
in the kitchen they found him grinning like a demented donkey.

‘It seems I have the magic touch,' he
announced proudly. ‘Picked up the young rascal, threw him over my shoulder and told him
who was boss. He did an almighty burp, then closed his eyes again. Rose never stirred. You wait
until I tell her how easy this parenting thing is,' he grinned.

‘I wouldn't go boasting, my friend.
If you sound too capable she'll have you seeing to him every time he murmurs,'
Duncan said sagely.

Ben frowned. ‘Heavens, that would never
do,' he said, reaching for his mug. ‘Where did you two disappear to?'

‘Duncan showed me the picture of your
great-grandfather,' Eliza answered.

Ben smiled. ‘Old Joshua, for whom our
son's named, was a great chap. He built this place with his bare hands. Having been
abandoned as a babe, he wanted his family to have the home he'd never had. Anyhow,
he'd nearly finished when the rope on a pulley snapped, trapping his fingers under a beam,
cutting off the tips. Friends and neighbours pitched in to help him finish the house. He was so
grateful he opened his home to them every Christmas, then after he'd planted the orchard,
again at Wassail. They were some gatherings, by all accounts. He even devised his own version of
the cider cup for the toast. As the family grew so did the celebrations. Everyone was included,
everyone wanted.'

‘How wonderful,' Eliza murmured,
remembering her recent desolate Christmas.

‘The tradition has been carried on over the
years, first
by Grandfather, then Father and now
it's down to us. Of course, we would have opened the house this Christmas if Rose
hadn't been about to give birth.'

‘Did your great-grandfather have many
children?' Eliza asked.

‘He had five sons but apparently it was his
daughter, Carole, who was the apple of his eye. He loved her so much he couldn't help
giving her the best he could afford.'

‘Oh, how wonderful,' Eliza
exclaimed.

‘She was certainly indulged.'

‘No, I meant how wonderful to be loved like
that. Will you carry on the tradition next year?'

‘Indeed, but all this talk has made me
realize we should really do something for Wassail this year,' Ben replied.

‘It's only a couple of days away so
you'll have to get busy organizing,' Duncan pointed out.

‘Get busy organizing what?' Rose
asked, coming into the kitchen. She looked brighter for her sleep and Eliza jumped up to pour
more water into the teapot.

‘Wassail, my dear. I was just saying, we
might not have been able to open Ashcombe for Christmas but we can certainly invite everyone to
celebrate Wassail now Joshua's safely here. We could make it a double celebration,'
Ben said, looking pleased with his idea. ‘And of course we must make the Ashcombe wassail
cup to toast the trees and young Joshua.'

‘What is this Wassail?' Eliza
asked.

Duncan laughed. ‘Anyone can tell
you're not a maid of these moors, young un. Here in Somerset, Wassail is when we pay
tribute to the Apple Tree Man. He is the spirit of the oldest apple tree in the orchard. In him
the fertility of
the orchard is said to reside. The
idea is to scare away evil spirits, wake the trees, then toast them with the special Ashcombe
wassail cup to provide us with a good harvest. Tradition decrees this ritual is held on old
Twelfth Night.'

‘But it'll mean inviting people, then
preparing the food and drink. And the house will need to look presentable. When we spoke about
this last year, Mother was going to be here to help. I can't possibly do it by myself,
especially with young Joshua needing so much attention,' Rose moaned, slumping in her
seat.

‘I could help,' Eliza said, then
realized she was making assumptions. ‘I mean, I would be happy to assist if you
don't mind my staying on till then?'

Rose brightened. ‘You can stay as long as
you like, Eliza. If you're sure you don't mind helping with the preparations, then
we'll do it,' she declared.

‘I'll break open a bottle of cider to
celebrate,' Ben said, grinning.

‘Ben Ashley, it's barely
mid-afternoon. What kind of example would that be to set our son, and what use will you be for
the rest of the day, if you're worse for wear?' Rose admonished.

‘I was only thinking of the one bottle,
Rose.'

‘You can content yourself with mixing the
special Ashcombe cider cup. No doubt you will sample it sufficiently to quench your thirst. Now,
we'll need to make a list,' Rose said, grabbing a pencil and frowning in
concentration.

‘While you girls make the arrangements,
Duncan and I will take the harvest cart and spread the word,' Ben said, getting quickly to
his feet.

‘Make sure we have enough cider for the
wassail cup,
then look out your
great-grandfather's clayen to serve it in,' Rose told him.

‘Yes, ma'am,' Ben said with a
salute. ‘Gosh, she's getting as bossy as Great-Grandmother,' he grumbled to
Duncan.

‘When did you say this Wassail is
held?' Eliza asked.

‘On the old Twelfth Night, which is the
17th of January,' Rose said. ‘Why, that's in two days' time,' she
squawked. Flinging open the back door she yelled, ‘Ben Ashley, get yourself back in here
this very minute.' But all they could hear was the sound of hooves and the clatter of the
cart making its way down the icy track.

‘Have you ever made apple cakes
before?' Rose asked Eliza the next morning.

She shook her head. ‘I made apple pie once
for a special treat,' she replied.

‘Well, I've no idea how to make
them,' Rose muttered. ‘Worse still, there's some special ingredient one has to
use to make them the Ashcombe way. Apparently this marries with what's used in the wassail
cup.'

‘Is there a receipt somewhere?'

‘Gosh, I am a clod.
Great-Grandmother's book's kept in the old hall. Come on.'

Eliza followed Rose along the hallway until they
came to a halt in front of a magnificent dresser reflecting the patina of age. Pulling down a
huge tome, Rose began flicking through the pages, which gave Eliza a chance to look around.

This part of the building had a completely
different feel to it. She couldn't help nodding to Great-Grandfather Joshua on the wall
opposite and could have sworn his eyes twinkled back. She was convinced she could detect a whiff
of tobacco smoke. How lovely it would have been to have a picture of Grampy on the wall of their
cottage, she thought. Then she noticed what looked like a tiny door in the wall to the right of
his picture.

‘What's that?' she asked
Rose.

‘It's the hidy-hole where Ben's
great-grandfather placed their babies' first shoes.' Seeing Eliza's puzzled
look, she continued, ‘According to some ancient custom, bricking up a shoe in the wall
brings luck to the household. Of course, Joshua, being Joshua, insisted on placing a pair of
each of his children's shoes in there. He was never one to do things by halves. The
tradition has continued down the generations so I guess we'll have to do the same with
Joshua's first pair.' Rose shuddered. ‘This hallway gives me the creeps. It
feels like a flipping mausoleum. I'm hoping that in time I'll be able to persuade
Ben to rip it out. I quite fancy turning this part into a garden room.'

‘Oh, you mustn't,' cried Eliza.
Then, when Rose stared at her in amazement: ‘You're so lucky having all this family
history around you. I've never experienced that.'

‘Whatever's gone on in your past
can't be changed. However, the future lies ahead. When you marry and have children
you'll be able to create your own memories, won't you?' Rose pointed out.

Eliza snorted and pointed down to her
heavy-booted foot. ‘No man's going to want me with this.'

‘Whatever gave you that idea?' Rose
said.

‘My father told me so,' Eliza
muttered.

‘Well, I think he's wrong, Eliza.
You're an attractive young woman, you know.'

Eliza stared down at the baggy rough shirt and
ill-fitting serge trousers, and both women burst out laughing.

‘Why are you wearing those dreadful clothes
anyway?' Rose asked.

‘Fay lent them to me. It's so cold in
the hobble and I only had one thin dress with me.'

‘Oh, they're Fay's clothes. I might have known.
Well, just because she goes around dressed like a man doesn't mean you have to. Once
we've found out how to make these hecking apple cakes, we'll sort you some decent
clothes to wear. It'll be ages before I'm back into my nice things,' she said,
grimacing down at her still-rounded stomach.

With a sigh, she resumed her search for the
receipt and after a few moments yelled in triumph, ‘Here it is!' However, her
delight was cut short by the wailing baby. ‘Damn,' she muttered.

‘Shall I see to him or go back to the
kitchen and make a start?' Eliza asked.

‘Here, take this,' Rose said,
thrusting the heavy book into her hands. ‘Joshua will need feeding, so I'd best go.
Don't know why I bother, though. No sooner do I put it in one end than it comes gushing
out the other.'

Eliza chuckled, remembering how her mother had
said the same thing.

Back in the kitchen, she made sure the table was
clean, then carefully set down the ancient tome. She was methodically going through the list of
ingredients when the door opened and Duncan appeared. He smiled warmly at her and she beamed
back, realizing she'd missed him in the short time he'd been away.

‘Hello, little un. How are you feeling
today?' he asked, rubbing his hands and holding them to warm beside the range.

‘I'm much better, thank you. And
guess what? I've got a room all to myself and a real bed to sleep in,' she
enthused.

‘My, my, we'll have to be calling you
“my lady” soon,' he
quipped.
‘You know, Eliza, life here suits you. You've already got more colour in your
cheeks.'

Eliza felt herself blushing at the compliment,
pleased beyond words at what he'd said.

‘By the way, I looked in on Fay
earlier.'

‘How is she?'

‘Coming to terms with Woody's loss in
her own time and way.'

Eliza nodded. ‘It probably helps not having
me around.'

Duncan smiled. ‘Peace is her solace at the
moment, little un. Now, Ben's sent me in to see if there's any tea in the
offing.'

She gestured to the pot, then turned back to the
receipt, hardly noticing when he went out again.

Cream golden butter with the richest of sugars ye possess. Raise arm and sift ye flours from
yon highest place.

‘Crikey, I feel like one of the blinking
cows this morning,' Rose said, rubbing her chest as she came back into the kitchen.

‘That'll be your milk coming in
fully,' Eliza said.

‘You mean he might go longer between
feeds?' Eliza nodded. ‘Blimey, thank heavens for that. Good job you're here;
you've much more idea than me. I could never discuss such things with my mother. Oh good,
you've brewed tea. I'm parched. Let's go through the ingredients whilst we
have our tea.'

‘This receipt looks quite
straightforward,' Eliza said glancing down at the page again.

Beat in freshest eggs and apples finely smashest.

‘Here, don't keep it to yourself, let
me see,' Rose said, leaning across the table.

‘Blimey, half the words are worn away. We
won't have good health if we don't discover what the secret ingredient is,'
Rose moaned, putting her head in her hands. ‘Maybe if we make a trial batch of apple cakes
we can work out what this crimson-coloured aril thingy is.'

Eliza looked at Rose sceptically.

‘Well, we've got to try something,
haven't we?' Rose muttered, getting to her feet as Joshua's shrill cry rent
the air.

Eliza sat staring at the ingredients. Obviously,
these would make little apple sponge-like cakes but what could the special ingredient be? She
was just reading through Rose's notes when the door opened and Ben put his head around
it.

‘I suppose you've come for more
refreshments,' she said, reaching for the empty mugs he was holding.

‘I see you've made a start on the
apple cakes,' he said.

‘Hmm, just going through the
ingredients,' she said. Then she had a thought. ‘When will you be making this
wassail cup?'

‘It will probably be tomorrow now.
We've got to see to the animals first. I'm a bit behind, what with Rose and the
baby. Luckily, Duncan insisted on helping and I'm mighty grateful. Don't
worry,' he said, mistaking Eliza's crestfallen look. ‘We
won't be too busy to sample the apple cakes when
they're cooked. Have to make sure they taste right, haven't we?'

‘What do they taste like, Ben? I've
never eaten one,' she added quickly as he gave her a strange look.

‘Of course you haven't. Well,
they're sweet, spicy, and of course the sugar coating makes them crunchy,' he added,
disappearing outside again.

Eliza returned to the notes.
A sprinkling of
su …
so that would be a sprinkling of sugar on the top then, she thought, carefully
completing the sentence.
One step at a time, Eliza.
Unbidden, Grampy's saying
popped into her head and she sighed. If only she could work out what the other missing words
were. She went back over the receipt. Perhaps if she looked in the pantry she'd find some
of this crimson-coloured aril. It would be better than sitting here waiting for Rose to
return.

Although she searched the shelves, she could find
no trace of anything called aril, or anything crimson. And as for that lace, you wouldn't
put material into a cake mixture, surely? She returned to her chair and was pondering the puzzle
when Duncan reappeared. Immediately the room seemed brighter and Eliza felt her spirits
rise.

‘Finished what I was doing so Ben thought
it would be a good idea if I began gathering together the things for the wassail cup. You look
pale, little un. Not been overdoing things, have you?'

‘We're trying to making a start on
those apple cakes but some of the words have faded. Do you know what the secret Ashcombe
ingredient is?' she asked.

‘Not exactly,' he said. ‘You
have been thrown in at the deep end, haven't you?'