A Christmas Cracker: The only festive romance to curl up with this Christmas!. Trisha Ashley
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… an artistic director and someone to back me up when my nephew comes to discuss the way forward.’
She sat back and beamed at me. ‘What do you say? I’m sure with your input we can turn things round by Christmas and Randal will have to accept that any plans he has for the rest of the site must include cracker making at its heart. And after that, if you should want to stay on with us, we will earmark a studio for you when the outbuildings are redeveloped, so you can pursue your own artistic ambitions.’
‘I – it all sounds fascinating,’ I confessed. ‘Where would I live?’
‘Since the cottages are all currently occupied, I thought you might have the former cook-housekeeper’s apartments behind the kitchen in the west wing. There’s just a small bedroom and a tiny sitting room, but it would be all your own.’
The thought of space in which I could be entirely alone and unobserved was bliss.
‘I’ll do it,’ I said, ‘if you really think I’ll be useful.’
‘I’m certain you will. There, that’s settled,’ she added, looking pleased. ‘We’ll expect you once you’re released. Cedric has explained to me that you will have to wear some kind of electronic tag for a few weeks and be confined to the house at night – not that there is anywhere to go to in the evenings in Godsend, anyway.’
‘Yes, and I’ll have to give them your address before they’ll release me. Then all my things are at my ex-fiancé’s house, so I’ll need to collect those at some point, too. He’s packed them up and put them in his garage.’
‘I hope it isn’t damp,’ she said, tutting disapprovingly. ‘Give me the address and phone number and I’ll have Job drive me over to collect them in a day or two – it will make you feel more at home if your own things are waiting for you at Mote Farm, won’t it?’
‘Well … yes, though he lives near Formby.’
‘That’s no distance,’ she assured me.
‘And he’s likely to present you with a bill for storing them!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.’
‘That’s so kind of you,’ I said, ‘but I don’t think I’ll have enough money to pay you back straight away.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, it can come out of your wages eventually. I’m afraid they won’t be substantial, but as you’ll be living in and eating with the family, that will save you expense.’
‘It sounds wonderful,’ I said.
‘Then that’s settled and you’ll come to us as soon as you’re released. I’ll look forward to it. I’m sure Ceddie was guided to tell me about you, because you’re just the person I need.’
‘I hope so,’ I said.
‘You are bright, artistically talented and practical – those are all the qualities I require,’ she said cheerily, then asked if I had enough money to travel to Lancashire on my release. I assured her I had and declined her offer to send the long-suffering-sounding Job down again to collect me.
I didn’t tell Mercy I intended making an illicit detour to Formby in search of Pye, because I needed to know exactly where he was and if he was happy. I was pretty sure the authorities would expect me to go straight from the prison to the known address, but with a bit of luck they’d never know and I’d still arrive at Mote Farm in time to be ringed like a pigeon that afternoon.
I tried to identify the strange feeling stirring in my heart, and eventually decided it was the pale wraith of optimism.
Q: What happened to the man who stole an Advent calendar?
A: He got twenty-four days!
By my release day I’d started to wonder if I might have become so institutionalised that I’d soon be looking back longingly at the safe familiarity of the open prison.
The final formalities were completed and I learned that even though I had a long journey ahead of me, I still needed to be at Mote Farm by five, so that I could be tagged there the same day.
When I got into the waiting taxi to be driven to the nearest station I had with me the small suitcase and handbag I’d gone to prison with (though with less money, since my phone calls had been deducted from what I’d had) but also a black bin bag, since Emma had sent me that big parcel of clothes and art materials and I’d had to put the overflow into something. It was not a good look.
Still, at least I now had access to the small amount of cash in my bank account … enough to buy a train ticket and a bit over. When I changed trains in London I purchased a cheap nylon holdall from a shop on the concourse and shoved the whole bin bag into it. I felt less as if I had ‘newly released prisoner’ stamped on my forehead after that.
My heart lifted with every mile that passed on my long journey home to Lancashire, though I was worried that when I got to Formby, either Jeremy wouldn’t be home, or he would refuse to tell me where Pye was. I didn’t have a lot of time to spare before I had to be at Mote Farm for the electronic tag to be fitted, so though I was desperate to discover how – not to mention where – Pye was, I knew if there were any problems I’d have to dash off and come back another day.
Unless the timetable had been changed, Jeremy had no school music lessons after two on Mondays and was always home by three.
And luckily, when yet another expensive taxi dropped me off there (depleting my fast-dwindling reserve of cash), I saw his car on the drive – but unfortunately, so too was Kate’s familiar white Polo.
I wondered why she had come back with him – and also if I could restrain my natural urge to take her by her scrawny throat and shake her till she explained why she’d stood up in court and told all those lies about me. I knew she’d initially resented me when I’d got engaged to Jeremy and the three of them became four, but I’d thought she’d got over that when she saw that Jeremy still adored her. If anything, it should have been me who resented her!
But following my natural urge to throttle her would lead me straight back to prison and, more importantly, delay my finding out what had happened to Pye, so I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
I thought no one was going to answer, but finally the key rattled in the lock and Kate opened it – pink, flustered and tucking her blouse into her skirt.
‘You!’ she gasped, looking like a frightened rabbit, as well she might, given the circumstances. ‘Have they let you out already?’
‘No, I avoided the searchlights and vicious guard dogs and climbed over the barbed wire, using a rope ladder that came in a cake,’ I snapped, wedging my nylon holdall in the door as she attempted to shut it.
Her mouth dropped open, before sanity set in and she realised I was being sarcastic. ‘I suppose they must have let you out, but what on earth are you doing here?’
‘I might ask you the same,’ I replied.
‘I came back with Jeremy, so we could sort out the arrangements for the school trip to Paris, though Luke had to stay at school to take detention, so he’ll be joining us later,’ she said, recovering her composure slightly. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Who is it?’ Jeremy’s voice demanded as he came down the stairs, fastening the cord of a blue velour dressing gown that was as familiar to me as my own. The scenario I’d interrupted was plain as a picture.
‘Oh, right, I understand everything now, Kate!’ I said. ‘This is what all the lies were about – you wanted Jeremy to yourself.’
‘Tabby?