The Sweetness of Liberty James (37 page)

‘How are you, Bob?' asked Liberty. ‘We haven't had a chance to chat since you came down. I'm so pleased you are here.'

‘I do so miss the silly fool, no matter what we say to each other. He is my soul mate. And I can't get over how you have changed,' he said, giving her a huge hug. ‘Power suit gone, casual in cashmere – and J-T was right, you really are glowing! I thought bakers were meant to be fat, jolly people, but you look just the same but with rosy cheeks – oh, and bigger boobs.'

‘Thanks.' Liberty smiled and playfully punched him on the arm. ‘What on earth am I meant to do with this one?' And she scooped up the wriggling pug. ‘Mother has the silliest ideas.'

‘Yes, I see that. But I got those two at the maddest time, just
as work was really taking off. It was tricky at first, and being on your own, it may not be an easy time, but if you can make the effort she will be house-trained and obedient quickly, and suddenly you will wonder how you survived without her! There is nothing quite like the relationship you have with your first dog.'

‘Not in a café!' wailed Liberty.

‘I thought a dog was an essential part of a pub?'

‘An Alsatian, maybe, but a pug?'

‘Come on inside,' said Bob, laughing then whistling to his dogs. ‘I'm starving, and I haven't stopped eating since I arrived.'

‘It's all the lovely country air,' she said as they went in.

For lunch there was a French onion soup, a soufflé made with Sussex Crumble cheese and a green salad. This was followed by a dried fruit salad that had been soaking overnight in cider, cinnamon and vanilla, and walnut tuiles.

Liberty ate little; most of lunch was spent crawling around the floor with the puppy. ‘I refuse to call her Holly or Ivy,' she retorted. ‘I'm going to live at Duck End so she can be Teal. A pretty name for a beautiful girl.' The little dog promptly ran to lick her nose, obviously liking the choice of name. ‘Come on, I'll make you some scrambled egg.'

‘Well, I'm gobsmacked!' announced J-T. ‘I thought she would insist that
you
kept her,' he confided to Deirdre.

‘Yes, but she needs something to care for when she is home alone. Oh, I will miss her dreadfully! I have loved having her here.'

Leaving the puppy to snuggle up to Dijon, the other dogs took their owners for a long walk. If an American tour had passed by in a coach, they would have thought they were looking at a combined advertisement for Barbour and Fendi.

Claude and Evangeline looked blissfully in love.

‘I can barely do my coat up, but at least the bump keeps me warm,' joked Evangeline.

‘My first photo for the mantelpiece,' said Liberty, running ahead to take photos of the couple.

‘There will be lots more after the party. We have two photographers coming and no doubt the press will send some paparazzi,' said Deirdre.

‘Who on earth have you invited to warrant paps?' asked Liberty. ‘What happened to introducing me to the village?'

‘Well, you met that lot at Jonathan's, so Paloma sent invitation cards to all the old set. Terence Macready is coming with his entourage.' He had been as big as the Rolling Stones were in their heyday. ‘Then there's Camille DuPont, the most successful and beautiful French actress, and Mark Chailey, the PR guru, to name a few. And all of us, of course! We need to get you into the press, so we must drop a few mentions that an excellent new café will shortly be opening right here in the village.'

‘Mother!' shouted Liberty in horror. ‘It's not a Michelin-starred restaurant! Wrong sort of press!' But she giggled over her mother's enthusiasm. ‘Your lovely friends from the old days eat in fine places with foie gras and caviar; they won't be coming for tea and scones!'

‘A little publicity never hurt anyone,' said Paloma, looking embarrassed. It had been her idea.

‘And of course it will be the first time that Alain and Deirdre have been together since their split. The famous restaurateur comes to support his daughter's venture,' said Claude.

Deirdre and Liberty stopped in their tracks and turned on Paloma.

‘What have you done?'

‘Oh, he said he was alone, and would love to come.'

‘But surely he's working?'

‘I think he's coming after work, but you can ask him tomorrow when he gets here.'

‘Whaaaat?' they both screamed.

‘He decided to join us for Christmas when he closes after lunch. He's leaving his team to cope with hotel guests.'

Deirdre was apoplectic. ‘Why didn't you ask me?'

‘Oh, come on,' said Paloma, ‘everyone should be happy and get on together at Christmas. It will be wonderful.'

‘OK, so next time we hold a party we will ask Claude's father for a cosy chit-chat. You won't mind?' asked Liberty through gritted teeth. She had her arm linked through Paloma's, so was unable to see the strange expression flicker over the older woman's face. ‘Mother will now be in a total flap.'

‘Not at all,' answered her godmother. ‘Don't you see she still loves him?'

‘Maybe so, but I think Dad has burned his bridges there, and he will probably thoughtlessly have some nineteen-year-old in tow.'

That evening they enjoyed light nibbles of oysters, tiny toads-in-the-hole and a cheese plate while Claude played Christmas carols at the baby grand piano, throwing in the occasional Noël Coward medley. Candles twinkled on the Christmas tree, and the fire crackled in the grate. Jonathan collected them for a quick sing-song and mince pie in the pub before Midnight Mass, and Liberty gave him a tight hug, reflecting that his daughter's departure was the only fly in their wonderful ointment. He looked tired and grey, but he brightened when he witnessed the merry scene inside. After quick introductions they wrapped up warmly and stamped off into the night.

Everything feels magical on Christmas Eve, and that night the stars twinkled to match their mood. The North Star shone as brightly as it should, and they all imagined shepherds out watching their flocks, although J-T was more inclined to imagine Santa Claus flying through the sky.

The pub was filled to bursting. People who were not seen inside either the pub or the church for the rest of the year milled around, making new friends and catching up with old ones. A few youngsters, already tipsy, were scuffling outside and being told to calm down by Harold, the seldom-seen publican.

‘Welcome, boys!' yelled Dilys, excited to see the handsome Grahame and Edmund, and wide-eyed at Claude's Gallic
beauty. She allowed them to queue-barge, but no one minded as Jonathan completed the round (as she knew he would) by shouting, ‘Drinks on me. Merry Christmas, everyone!'

A huge cheer went up, and then Dilys squeezed her way round with a vast platter of mince pies.

‘I wouldn't if I were you.' She winked at Grahame. ‘Liberty's have all been scoffed. These are the cash and carry's, and by the looks on those faces, not as good by far.'

Grahame let his pie drop back on the plate and sidled over to Liberty.

‘What are we going to do about Savannah?' he asked. ‘Pa seems to be going out of his mind with worry. He's been holed up in his study since she left. I feel so helpless, as the Foreign Office has been useless. They don't want to interfere in any domestic dealings in case it upsets trade negotiations going on at the moment, as far as I can tell.'

‘Have you spoken to Savannah since she went back?'

‘Briefly. Ed had a good chat, and Pa has spoken to her. She sounds calm but a little desperate. Apparently, she is not allowed to leave the house unless chaperoned by one of his private bodyguards.'

‘Did she find out what the house in Paris is for?' asked Liberty.

‘No, but she thinks that if Khalid is looking for a base in Europe it may just be for business reasons. I have people attempting to find out if there are planning applications in, or any suspect comings and goings.'

‘Do try to enjoy yourself between times,' Liberty said, squeezing his arm.

‘Will do what I can,' replied Grahame with a wry smile.

Edmund was chatting to Paloma, explaining that he was about to take over the running of the Denhelm Estate.

‘What does that involve?' she asked, a twinkle in her eye. ‘Yelling at servants and kicking dogs?'

Before he could bluster and get upset, and inform her that the estate ran five separate businesses, all profit-making, Deirdre
interrupted and told Paloma not to tease. Paloma thought to herself that if only he relaxed he would be a heartbreaker. It hadn't escaped her attention that his eyes kept wandering to where Liberty stood glowing beneath the soft pub lights.

‘Right, time to go,' instructed Jonathan, who as always was reading the first lesson.

When they arrived at the church, his small family group entered the boxed pew at the front, together with Deirdre and her party, as there was otherwise only standing space left in the packed building. Liberty found herself in-between Edmund and Paloma, and despite having plenty of room, Paloma kept shuffling into Liberty, making her move closer to Edmund. He started as though burnt, and Liberty smiled and whispered not to worry, she wouldn't bite, as she looked up at his face.

It was a jolly service. Despite knowing well that this was the only time he would see the majority of the faces until the following year, the vicar was a showman, and enjoyed himself immensely. His sermon was short and positive, just in case it encouraged a few more visits in the coming months.

Jonathan read beautifully. His clipped vowels rang out over the speakers, and the flickering candles hid the haunted look in his eyes. Liberty noticed the fresh flowers beneath the plaque in the side chapel that read: ‘Helena de Weatherby. Wife and Mother. 1946–1974. Much missed.'

As they filed up the aisle for Communion there were a few tuts as people noticed Deirdre had brought Dijon in with her, but the tutting turned to laughter as Dijon waddled up to the Communion knee rest and sat on it. She figured it was probably his last Christmas and he needed all the help he could get. The vicar looked bemused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and intoned, ‘The body of Christ', and popped a wafer into Dijon's mouth, thinking as he did so that he might get some front page publicity in the
Parish News
.

‘Let's move to the country,' said Bob to J-T as they disgorged into the night.

‘Oh, yes, and by the second of January you will be desperate for the city lights and disappear,' replied J-T, as Bob kissed him warmly, to the shock and delight of the villagers standing around.

There goes my front page
, thought the vicar. Miss Scally was probably already writing her objections, about how the standard of village life had fallen, so he made sure to go and shake the boys' hands and suggest they might like to attend morning service too.

‘I think we will be busy making cocktails by then, but thank you for a lovely service,' said J-T, laughing.

On their way back to The Nuttery Deirdre said to Jonathan, ‘I'm so pleased you are coming tomorrow. Where is Mrs Goodman?'

‘Oh, she wanted an early night, and she will go to the service tomorrow morning. But she is no doubt making us a hearty meal for our return in case the roast duck we ate earlier wasn't enough!' he said. ‘See you at eleven. Happy Christmas.'

Standing in the garden, encouraging the puppy to wee, Liberty looked up at the stars and wished that everyone would have a happy time, and that Savannah was doing all right. Then she whispered, ‘And I know I am being selfish, but please make my venture a success.'

She told Teal she would feel a bit silly if it all failed, and then assured her Father Christmas wouldn't come if she didn't wee.

32

Father Christmas did come. Waking next morning everyone had a miniature tree, complete with lights, at the bottom of their bed. Underneath were sweets, toys and hand-made biscuits, together with a Thermos jug of coffee and another with hot milk.

The puppy found the biscuits first, but Liberty didn't mind, as she felt blissfully happy, despite the nagging thought in the back of her brain that such happiness should be shared with a man.
Oh well, dogs, husbands – much alike, really
, she thought as Teal tugged the trailing belt of her dressing gown and it fell open. Going downstairs to let the puppy out, she thought,
I'm certainly not phoning Percy to say Happy Christmas
. But she did wonder what he would be doing, and reminded herself to call his parents later. She had sent them gifts, together with a long letter telling them what she had been up to, and saying that she hoped Cecil was responding to the treatment. She had also sent Mrs Stickybunns a huge Christmas cactus, remembering how she loved them.

A couple of hours later, the kitchen was a hive of activity, the women happily working alongside each other. Deirdre was laying out a side of wild smoked salmon on a cedar plank, Liberty was making potato pancakes to accompany it, and Paloma was making a dill, horseradish and sour cream sauce. Evangeline had offered her assistance, but Paloma saw she was a little nauseous and sent her off to relax. Nobody was to be allowed in the dining room until Christmas lunch was served late in the afternoon as the table had been laid already, but there was room in the kitchen for breakfast. They set out freshly
baked lemon cakes and croissants, preserves and pitchers of champagne mixed with blood orange juice, to drink with coffee and hot chocolate.

While the others ate and chatted, Liberty coated small local goat's cheeses in crushed walnuts for frying later to go on a beetroot salad. This would be followed by roast beef, roast potatoes, parmesan parsnips and purple sprouting broccoli. Dessert would be a port and blackberry jelly, and a ‘Clarence' pudding, which Deirdre had made as promised, as she thought it celebratory yet light after such a big meal. She had coated it in edible gold leaf. A whole Stilton was ready on the sideboard for anyone greedy enough to manage it.