A Brambleberry Manor Christmas - Rosie Green Page 0,31

said to roam the Ural Mountains. Some are convinced he’s real.’

‘There’ve been sightings of the Yeti, haven’t there?’ Melanie’s eyes are wide.

Katja nods. ‘Apparently. Some say the hulking monster was responsible for the deaths of a party of students in the sixties, who went hiking in the mountains. Several were found with their eyes and tongues missing.’

‘Oh, dear. How did we get on to the subject of hideous monsters?’ laughs Marjery. ‘I’m feeling quite creeped out now.’

Melanie grins. ‘Sorry. My fault. I really love being scared.’

There’s a ripple of laughter round the table, and she quickly adds, ‘I mean, as long as it’s in a controlled environment, like a roller coaster at the fair or abseiling down a sky-scraper building. That sort of scared.’

Rhoda nods. ‘Bob and I have a bit of the thrill-seeker in us as well. We tried bungee jumping and white-water rafting. Excellent fun, if a little on the hairy side for Bob.’ She smiles at him affectionately.

‘You’re so brave. I’d be terrified,’ says Fen.

‘When did you do the bungee jumping? When you were younger?’ asks Melanie.

‘No, earlier this year,’ says Bob. ‘We’ve lined up off-piste ski-ing and paragliding for next year.’

‘Gosh.’ Melanie gazes at them in awe. ‘I want to be like you when I’m your…er, a little bit older.’

Rhoda smiles. ‘So, you enjoy being scared, do you?’ I’m serving her turkey as she says it, and I notice her eyes swivel to Bob for just a second. He responds with a secretive little eyebrow-lift and I look away, feeling somehow as if I’ve been caught eavesdropping.

Melanie nods. ‘Love it. The more terrifying the better.’ She shrugs and glances across at Fergus, who pulls a wary face at her. ‘I know,’ she says, blushing. ‘I’m weird.’

Rhoda shakes her head. ‘No, you’re not. Human beings love being scared. As long as they know they have a safety net. There’s a rush of adrenaline when you do something that’s completely out of your comfort zone, and your body produces all these lovely endorphins that fill you with a marvellous sense of euphoria.’ She sighs. ‘We never feel more alive than when we’re wing-walking over the Dorset and Wiltshire border. Eh, Bob?’

Melanie’s eyes nearly pop out at this. ‘Wing-walking. Wow,’ she breathes. ‘You both are totally my heroes.’

I’m finished serving at this point, which is sort of a shame because I was enjoying the chat. As I leave, Bob’s insisting he’d be able to terrify Melanie with one of his sculptures. And Melanie is laughing and saying she can’t imagine that, but if he wants to have a bet on it…

‘Looks like Constance won’t make it at all,’ says Flo when I return to the kitchen.

‘She must have been held up. It’s coming down quite heavily out there now,’ I murmur, going over to the window and peering out. ‘Oh, hang on. I can see headlights coming up the drive.’

Flo joins me at the window. ‘So the mysterious Constance has arrived. In her massive Range Rover. Very posh.’ She grins. ‘I wonder what she’ll be like after all this big build-up? Do you think she’s done it deliberately to make an entrance, like you were saying?’

I laugh. ‘Maybe.’

‘At least she’s in time for the main event. The spectacular dessert.’

I groan. ‘Oh, don’t. I just hope Marjery thinks my yule log tastes as good as it looks.’

‘Of course she will. She’ll be wanting seconds, so stop worrying!’ Flo’s relaxed grin has a calming effect, and my tense shoulders drop a little.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Flo,’ I say, sounding flippant but meaning every word.

She colours slightly and I can tell she’s chuffed. But she shrugs off the compliment with a joke. ‘What can I say? I know. I’m brilliant.’

The doorbell rings and a minute later, we hear voices and laughter in the hall – presumably Constance being reunited with all her old uni pals. Then Marjery pops her head round the kitchen door and says, ‘Constance is here and she’ll be joining us for dessert.’

‘Shall we serve it now?’ I ask.

‘Please.’ She ducks out and we hear her heels tapping back to the dining room.

‘Right, here goes.’ I pick up the crystal platter with the dessert on it. Then I put it back down and run my hands over my apron.

Flo grins. ‘Sweaty palms?’

‘Can’t risk it slipping out of my hands.’

‘You’ll be fine.’ She opens the door and ushers me out. Then she follows behind with the matches to light the sparklers on top.

I walk out into