Once Upon A Christmas. Jennifer JoyceЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘That would be great, Jack. I don’t know the coast at all. What’ve you got to do up on the coast?’
He looked a bit sheepish. ‘To be honest, the forecast isn’t only good as far as sunshine’s concerned. There’s also supposed to be a good wave coming in.’ Seeing her incomprehension, he explained. ‘Surf. I’m afraid I’m an addict, and they’re talking about good clean waves tomorrow, six to eight feet.’
‘Is that good?’
‘For Devon, it’s awesome.’
‘But it’ll be freezing cold, surely?’
He shrugged. ‘Wetsuit, hood, gloves; I’ll be okay. Besides, the sea temperature at this time of year’s a good bit higher than the air temperature. Anyway, unless you want to come into the water with me…’ He saw Holly shudder at the thought. ‘If you bring Stirling, you can give him a run on the beach. I’ll only be in the water for an hour or so.’
Holly glanced across at the window where the wind was driving the rain into the glass. It looked awful. ‘Only an hour…?’ She left the rest of the sentence unsaid.
Jack gave her a smile. ‘Excellent. How about we leave around ten-ish? That way I can get a surf in, and then we can go and warm up indoors at lunchtime.’ He grasped the door handle. ‘Thanks for the tea and thanks again for the bottles of wine.’
Holly spent the rest of the morning making a start on her father’s stuff. She began in the living room, sifting through books ranging from classic fiction to engineering handbooks. By the look of the titles, he must have been very interested in machinery of all types and in stainless steel in particular. She set aside a dozen or so books for her own use and added the others to a growing pile, behind the sofa, of things to be sent to the charity shops. From there, she moved into the under stairs cupboard and it was there that she made her first significant discovery. Underneath a pile of junk, ranging from old tennis shoes to back copies of Engineering World magazine, she spotted a steel ring, set into the floor. She gave it a tug and discovered a trap door and a steep old wooden ladder, leading down into a cellar. There was a light switch at the top of the ladder so she tried it. It worked. With great care she climbed down and looked around.
Her first reaction was one of disappointment. The tiny stone-walled room, more of a priest hole than a storeroom, was almost empty. It was freezing down there and the walls were cold and damp. Over to one side there were a series of bays, made out of slabs of slate, presumably to take bottles and jars. There were half a dozen boxes, some wood, some cardboard, sitting there, but that was all. She looked inside a few of the boxes and saw that they contained bottles of wine. She pulled out a couple at random and carried them back upstairs again. One was a white Burgundy and one a Bordeaux red. She put the white in the fridge and set the red on the Welsh dresser. At least now she would have more than enough wine, along with the bottles she had bought the previous day, to last through until well after Christmas, even with Julia coming to stay.
By lunchtime, she had cleared all of the ground floor, apart from the kitchen. She had found a few items of interest, among them a good tennis racket, but otherwise nothing really worth keeping. Until she bought a bigger flat in London, she had very little spare space, so she decided to be ruthless. No doubt the charity shops in the towns around the edge of Dartmoor would be grateful for anything she didn’t want.
By this time, the rain had finally stopped, so she took Stirling out for a longer walk before lunch. Then, after tidying up the worst of the mess in the kitchen, she went upstairs to have a shower and wash her hair. She had no idea where Justin intended taking her for tea but, as he was always so immaculately turned out, she decided she had better dress up, just to be on the safe side. She chose a short skirt that emphasised her long legs and a light pink jumper she had bought in Harrods some months previously. She completed the outfit with a very stylish, though rather uncomfortable, pair of Jimmy Choo heels.
Justin drew up outside at exactly three o’clock. Holly gave the dog a biscuit and told him to be good. As a precaution, she put the suitcase back across the stairs.
‘Holly, you’re looking wonderful.’ Justin opened the car door for her rather formally, but Holly had already worked out by this time that he was a fairly formal sort of man – from his behaviour to his clothing. As she approached the car, she immediately recognised she had a problem. Her skirt was not only short, but tight, and there was no way she could step up into the high vehicle without hitching the skirt up around her waist. Her intention had been for Justin to get a good look at her legs, but maybe not quite that much of them; at least not at the beginning of a first date, if that was what this was. Luckily, she wasn’t the first girl in a tight skirt to try to get into the Range Rover. Justin was familiar with the problem, and the solution. ‘You’ll find that if you go in bottom first and then swing your legs round, you’ll manage it with your modesty intact.’ She took his advice and slid easily and demurely onto the white leather seat. He closed the door and came round to the driver’s side. Holly gave him a big smile.
‘This is very kind of you, Justin. Where are we going?’
‘The Castle, if it’s all right with you.’ He must have seen the expression on her face so he explained. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the Castle. It’s one of only a handful of hotels in Devon with two Michelin stars. Its high teas are legendary and it’s even attracted royalty; junior royalty, but still royalty. It’s barely a couple of miles away and, in fact, on a better day, we could’ve walked across to it. You must have seen the golf course as you came into Brookford. That belongs to the Castle and there’s a public footpath across it. I tell you what – if you’re still here in the summer we’ll walk it.’
‘Somehow I doubt it. I’m here to get Dad’s house ready for sale.’
His face fell. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. You’d make a wonderful addition to our little community.’
‘Somebody else told me that, but I’ve got a job in London.’
He started the engine. It purred quietly, unlike the throaty roar that Greta gave off as she warmed up. ‘Is it a job you enjoy?’
‘Yes, very much.’
‘Are you good at it?’ He pulled the gear lever into drive and they moved off almost soundlessly. She felt as if she were sitting in a truck, compared to the low-slung Porsche. She had to admit that it certainly improved visibility.
She caught his eye and grinned. ‘I’m very good at my job.’
They passed the village green and headed up the lane. From this height she could easily see over the stone wall beside them right onto the tees and fairways of the golf course beyond. The grass was immaculately mown and the greens like mirrors. Four middle-aged men were waiting to tee off, one even wearing old-fashioned plus four breeches. Specimen trees dotted the course, some of them quite evidently hundreds of years old. Presumably, prior to becoming a golf course, this had been the park around a stately home. She strained her eyes for a glimpse of the house, but all she saw were more trees, a lake with an island in the middle of it and, beyond the confines of the park, bare, open moorland. Beside her, Justin was still thinking about her job.
‘And do your employers know you’re so good at your job?’
‘I rather think they do. They pay me shed loads of money so that must mean something.’
He nodded. ‘And couldn’t you do it from down here? More and more people are working from home these days. Or are you out and about all the time?’
Holly had to think about that one. ‘I suppose I probably could, if I had to. Just about all my time’s spent in the office these days. If a visit’s needed, I’ve got people who do that for me.’ She went on to give him a brief description of what she did and how her engineering qualifications and experience were so important in calculating insurance risk.
‘Sounds like they wouldn’t want to lose you. So, think about it, stay here and make us all happy.’ He caught her eye. ‘I’m sure that’s what your dad would have wanted.’