A Christmas Cracker: The only festive romance to curl up with this Christmas!. Trisha Ashley

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A Christmas Cracker: The only festive romance to curl up with this Christmas! - Trisha  Ashley


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going to go down a storm with your aunt Mercy, isn’t it?’

      ‘It’s not going to be easy,’ I agreed, because my elderly aunt by marriage, Mercy Marwood, came from a long line of Quakers, as had my late uncle. My mother had married out and lapsed, but I was aware enough of the Quaker outlook to know that Mercy might take a dim view of my fiancée’s business interests. ‘I’m hoping she gets to know Lacey first, before she finds out.’

      ‘How is Mercy?’ Charlie asked. We’d often spent part of our school holidays at Mote Farm and he was fond of her. And I was, too, even though by rights the family estate should have come directly to me after my uncle died, rather than have been left to my aunt to pass on. ‘Is she still out in Malawi, teaching needlework and stuff?’

      ‘She was, but she’ll be flying back soon and says this time it’s for good, though she’ll still be sourcing and sending out sewing machines. I’ll have to visit her after my next trip.’

      I took a swig of my beer. ‘I had some plans drawn up to redevelop the factory complex at Godsend and sent them out to her a while back, so I think we’ll have a lot to discuss.’

      ‘What, the old Friendship Mill site?’

      ‘That’s it: Mote Farm will be mine one day, after all, and Aunt Mercy’s always encouraged me to see it as my home, so she should be happy I’m taking an interest and want to settle down there when I’m married.’

      ‘But your uncle left everything to her, didn’t he? He told her that he wanted you to inherit after she’d gone, but it wasn’t in writing.’

      ‘He did, but he trusted her to do what he wanted and she will,’ I said confidently. ‘She’s got money of her own, after all, though now she’s guardian to the daughter of an old Malawian friend, I expect she’ll want to provide for her from that. I don’t think you’ve met Liz yet, have you? She’s a nice girl – Mercy sent her to that Quaker boarding school near Pontefract, but she’s often at the farm in the holidays.’

      ‘No, but it’s typical of Mercy to take in waifs and strays. Look at all those so-called employees she has living in the cottages!’

      ‘True, and they’re all well past retirement age. The cracker factory in Friendship Mill should have closed long ago, because it’s losing money hand over fist and at this rate there’s going to be nothing left by the time I inherit.’

      ‘So, what were the plans?’

      ‘I propose to immediately retire the workforce, close the cracker factory down and then redevelop the mill complex as a tourist venue, with a café, craft workshops and a farm shop, that kind of thing. I’d invest some of the money I inherited from my parents into it and manage the place, so I’d expect to be a shareholder and director.’

      Charlie whistled. ‘How did that go down with Mercy?’

      ‘I think it was a bit of a shock, really. She emailed saying she’d looked at my interesting proposals, but since she hadn’t realised things weren’t doing well at the cracker factory she’d consider what I had to say more fully when she was home and had had chance to look into everything. And that’s where it stands at the moment.’

      ‘Maybe your plans were the tipping point that made her come home for good, then?’ Charlie suggested.

      ‘Perhaps. I think she put too much trust in her brother to keep any eye on things while she was away, because apart from paying out the wages, Uncle Silas barely goes down there. I know he’s got health problems, but he’s hardly a total invalid.’

      ‘Silas is a funny old codger, practically a recluse,’ Charlie said. ‘But Mercy seems fond of him.’

      ‘Mercy’s fond of everyone,’ I said, which was only a slight exaggeration. ‘I’m sure she’ll see sense about the mill, when she’s had time to think about it. After all, I’m not proposing we throw the workforce out of the cottages after they’re retired, or anything like that … though as soon as the cottages do become free, they could be renovated and let as holiday rentals.’

      ‘I see you’ve given it a lot of thought.’

      ‘I had a lot of time to think in Mexico, before I was fit to fly home,’ I said ruefully.

      ‘Are you going to tell her about Lacey when you go up there after your next assignment, or take her with you?’

      ‘I’ll tell Mercy I’ve got engaged, but take Lacey to meet the family later, after I’ve talked her round about the mill,’ I said confidently.

      And when I did take Lacey there, I’d have to try to persuade her to keep quiet on the subject of what she and her parents sold for a living, until Mercy had grown to know and love her, which I was sure she soon would. And anyway, once Lacey had visited the place, I might even be able to persuade her to give up her own business entirely and help me instead …

      Charlie popped another can and raised it in salute: ‘Here’s to success in all you do!’ he said, twinkling. ‘But I feel you might be in for a rocky ride!’

       Chapter 6: The Quality of Mercy

      I was expecting Mercy Marwood to be a frail, elderly woman, but I was in for a big surprise for, although she was small and skinny, I’d never seen anyone so crackling with energy. I think she probably burned off calories as fast as she ate them.

      Her white hair was cut into a pudding-bowl style and she was dressed in a bold blue and white patterned cotton caftan top with wide sleeves, worn over khaki linen trousers that sagged at the seat and knees. She had children’s trainers on her tiny feet and they lit up when she walked.

      She shook my hand firmly, scanned me with warm brown eyes set in delicate origami folds of tanned skin, and then smiled. ‘My dear, you are just as Ceddie described to me – but so thin! Still, we’ll soon put some flesh back on those bones once you’re at Mote Farm.’

      She sank down into a chair with a pleased expression. ‘I’ve been staying with the friend who collected me from the airport – I only got back from Malawi the day before yesterday – but I borrowed her kitchen and baked you a cake. I’m sure the people here will let you have it, once they’ve finished examining it for handsaws, or rope ladders, or whatever it is they think I might have hidden inside it.’

      ‘Probably more likely to be drugs, these days,’ I said, slightly dazed by all this energy and information. ‘And since I hope to be released in just over a fortnight, if a hostel place has been found for me, absconding would be pointless.’

      ‘I’ve visited women’s prisons many times in the past,’ said my visitor chattily, ‘but not an open one. How do you find it?’

      ‘A hundred times better than the one in Cheshire, where I was initially taken,’ I said. ‘I didn’t really believe I’d get a prison sentence until it happened, so I wasn’t prepared in the least.’

      ‘Poor thing! And Ceddie tells me you were there over Christmas too, which must have made it extra hard.’

      ‘It did make me think of Christmases with my mum and miss her so much that my throat closed up every time I tried to eat anything,’ I admitted. ‘It was only the kindness of some of the other prisoners and the staff that made it bearable, but it’s surprising how quickly you adjust to the routine.’

      ‘There is so much good in people everywhere,’ Mercy said, sounding rather like Ceddie. ‘I hope you are now eating properly?’

      ‘I’m trying to, though I seem to have got out of the habit of feeling hungry.’

      ‘Once I have you at Mote Farm, we’ll get you back into it,’ she said firmly.

      ‘It … sounds as if you intend to offer me some kind of employment,’ I said tentatively.


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