A Brambleberry Manor Christmas - Rosie Green Page 0,7

expects everyone else to be as focused on achieving perfection as she is, with the energy to match.’ She shot me a rueful look. ‘Being her daughter, I’ve had a lifetime of falling short in her eyes. She’s always telling me I allow my shyness to stop me “achieving my potential”. But I know she loves me anyway.’

I took all this on board, and tried to banish my nerves. But since Harvey had his fatal heart attack, my confidence – which wasn’t exactly overflowing in the first place – had taken a real dive. And it wasn’t helped by the fact that my relationship with Tavie – once a delight – seemed to have turned into a constant battleground…

*****

Standing at the front door of the manor with my dessert, I straighten up at the sound of footsteps in the hall. The front door opens and Marjery herself appears.

‘Jenny. Come in, come in.’

She ushers me into the hallway and I’m painfully aware of her eyes flicking over my filthy knees and grubby skirt.

‘I’m so sorry to arrive looking like this,’ I begin, flustered. ‘I heard screams coming from the zip wire and I thought someone was in trouble and I managed to…well, fall over…twice…’ I trail off as she dismisses my apologies with a wave of her hand.

‘No matter. As long as you’re all right?’

‘Er, yes. I am. Thank you.’

‘Good.’ She clips off in the direction of the kitchen. ‘It’s your food I’m interested in,’ she calls back. ‘Although obviously you’ll need to look smart for serving.’

‘Of course.’ I hurry after her, having to break into a little run with my meringue roulade in order to catch her up. Fen did say her mum had the energy and determination of a woman half her age – and she wasn’t wrong!

‘Now, the kitchen is yours,’ she says, handing me a key, after I’ve stored the dessert in one of the fridges. ‘You can come and go as you need to, even if there’s no-one in. The menus we agreed are excellent. I like the idea of you giving us a little taste of food from around the globe each evening; it’ll be nice to discover what other countries enjoy eating when they’re celebrating the festive season. But if we could just tweak one thing?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Perhaps she thinks the Mexican chilli could be too hot for everyone’s tastes? Or maybe she’d prefer beef instead of lamb on the second night?

She smiles. ‘Jam roly-poly.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘My son, Richard, loves a jam roly-poly. So if we could just switch out one of the desserts to include it, that would be fabulous. I must admit to being a fan of it myself, having been practically reared on it when I was small. Along with tripe and onions, of course.’ She sighs with happy nostalgia. Then she peers at me. ‘You are familiar with the great institution that is the jam roly-poly pudding?’

I smile brightly. ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

Can’t stand the nasty, doughy things. But I’ll make the best one Marjery has ever eaten!

‘Good. Right, well, I’ll leave you to get on, Jenny. A few of our guests are already here – Richard’s old university buddies.’

‘Yes. Melanie, Noah and Fergus were at the zip wire?’

‘Of course. I believe there’s another friend, Constance, arriving the day after tomorrow. Hopefully in time for dinner, although she wasn’t sure.’ Her mouth rises at one corner. ‘From what I remember of her,’ she says dryly, ‘Constance rather enjoys making an entrance.’

I nod, not knowing quite what to say to this. Constance sounds intriguing.

Marjery beams at me. ‘Right. Lots to do. Better get on.’ She picks up a basket containing mini toiletries and whisks out of the kitchen, and when I follow her out, she turns.

‘Oh, Jenny? I forgot to mention. I’ve invited our next-door neighbours over tonight. So there’ll be four more for dinner. That won’t be a problem, will it?’

My heart sinks. ‘Er, no…no, of course not.’

‘Splendid. Thank you.’ She hurries up the grand staircase with her basket, as my mind goes into feverish overdrive.

Four more for dinner?

There’s enough of the hot-smoked salmon starter, and dessert will stretch to twelve if I add fresh berries and possibly a black cherry ice-cream. But I’ll have to pick up a larger fillet of beef.

I drive back to Sunnybrook, taking slow breaths to counteract the panic that’s threatening to overwhelm me. I only hope the local butcher will come up trumps. Because with the mortgage company on my back over two missed