Page 15 of Christmas Spirits at Honeywell House (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #3)

How, Agnes wondered, could he be so confident of their daughter’s love? It never ceased to amaze her how relaxed he was about these things, especially given the sort of life he’d led. She wished she had the same gift.

‘You can come and visit any time you like,’ Mia told Florence. ‘I won’t move over the estate boundaries, I promise. Anyway, all this is theoretical. We have no idea where we can fit a new eating establishment so it could be months or years before it happens.’

‘And right now, there are no vacant cottages in Rowan Vale either,’ Callie added. ‘But as soon as one comes up, you’ll have first dibs on it, Mia.’

‘And I’ll have your photograph framed and take it with me,’ Mia assured Florence.

‘The one of her with the other evacuee children when they arrived at the Hall?’ Aubrey enquired.

‘Aubrey wants to know if it’s the one Lawrie had of the evacuees,’ Callie explained.

Mia shook her head. ‘No. The one my gran had of her before she was sent here. It was taken in the back yard of their old house in Poplar. Have Aubrey and Agnes never seen it? I’ll show it to them if they like.’

‘Oh,’ Agnes sighed. ‘I would love to see that. Thank you, Mia.’

‘Most kind of you,’ Aubrey agreed.

‘They’d love to see it,’ Callie said.

‘Tell you what,’ Mia said brightly, speaking to where she assumed the ghosts were sitting, ‘why don’t I get you a copy? I’ll put it in a frame, and you can put it on your bedside table. Then you can both wake up to her smiling face every morning.’

Agnes and Aubrey glanced at each other.

‘Two copies, perhaps?’ suggested Aubrey.

‘If it’s not too much trouble,’ Agnes added.

‘Two copies?’ Callie frowned. ‘What for?’

Florence laughed. ‘Well, one for Poppa’s bedroom and one for Mother’s, of course!’

Agnes watched as Callie’s face turned a rather common shade of pink. Really, blushing was so vulgar.

‘Oh, I see… Sorry, I just assumed you shared a room,’ Mia said. ‘No worries, I’ll get you both a copy.’

‘Shared a room ? ’ Agnes hardly knew where to put herself.

Aubrey was staring fixedly at the floor, as if he wished it would open up and swallow him whole.

‘Well, I sort of did, too,’ Callie said awkwardly. ‘I mean you are… kind of… married .’

‘What do you mean, kind of married?’ Florrie wanted to know. ‘’Course they’re married. Aren’t you, Mother? Poppa?’

Agnes felt quite faint.

‘We are very much a family,’ Aubrey said firmly. He cleared his throat. ‘I think that settles that.’

Callie glanced at Mia. ‘Well, I er, think that’s all sorted out now,’ she said. ‘No need to fuss at all, was there, Florrie?’

‘Easy for you to say,’ Florence said. ‘Not your family moving out, is it? But wherever you end up, I’ll definitely come and visit,’ she told Mia. ‘Don’t think I won’t, cos I will.’

‘I’d expect nothing less,’ Mia said, laughing. ‘And you could even stay the night sometimes – if your parents approve, of course.’

Agnes gave her an appreciative nod. It was good of the woman to acknowledge their parental rights – even if she had made the most terrible blunder about the photograph.

‘Right, well I’m off to rehearsals then,’ Florence announced, jumping to her feet.

‘Rehearsals?’ Aubrey and Agnes chorused.

‘Rehearsals for what?’ Agnes demanded.

‘Didn’t Florrie tell you?’ Callie asked. ‘The ghosts in the village are putting on a production of A Christmas Carol . Florrie, John and Robert are playing Cratchit children. Little Robert is going to be Tiny Tim.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us, Florence?’ Aubrey asked, sounding rather hurt.

Florence shrugged. ‘Didn’t seem much point. You ain’t gonna see me in it anyway, are you? See you later.’

She skipped out of the room like the whole drama surrounding Mia’s plans had bored her, and as if none of it had been brought about by her overreaction to something she should never have heard in the first place.

‘You will keep us informed?’ Aubrey asked, as he showed Callie and Mia to the door of their suite, ever the polite gentleman. ‘About the cafe situation, I mean.’

‘Trattoria,’ Callie corrected him.

‘Yes, quite. You will let us know of any developments? Just so we can prepare Florence, you understand.’

‘Of course we will,’ Callie assured him. ‘And I’m sorry for the misunderstanding – about the bedroom situation.’

Aubrey glanced round at Agnes, and she saw him visibly swallow.

‘Well, let’s say no more about it,’ he said faintly.

Agnes sucked in her cheeks and turned her head away as Callie gave her an apologetic look.

Really, it was not to be borne! This young woman might be the lady of the house, but she had no class or breeding.

To bring up such a subject, and not just once but several times! It simply wasn’t to be tolerated.

Callie and Mia took their leave, closing the door behind them, and Aubrey returned to the sofa.

‘Well, er, that was…’

‘Indeed it was, Mr Wyndham,’ Agnes said crossly. ‘I have never…’

‘Yes. Quite. I think we should draw a veil over that conversation, my dear. Or at least parts of it.’

‘Indeed.’

There was an uncomfortable silence, then Aubrey ventured, ‘So Florence is going to be in a play. A Christmas Carol . Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?’

‘It depends on your definition of fun, I suppose,’ she said flatly. The last thing she wanted was to be drawn into another conversation about visiting the village.

‘I suppose it does,’ he mumbled.

In desperation, they both turned and stared hopefully at the television screen.

‘Oh drat,’ Aubrey exclaimed. ‘Callie didn’t take The Crown off pause.’