‘You and the rest of the country. We could all do with a bit of sparkle.’
‘Speaking of which – I’ve got a view of the harbour from my room. I think I saw Archie’s car arrive.’
‘Did you …’
‘No, not a glimpse. I can just about see the end of the causeway if I crane my neck, but I lost sight of him before he parked. At least we know they’re here, though. The star has arrived.’
‘I think the real star’s just outside the window. Look.’
Josephine turned and saw the snow – not the brief, halfhearted flurry that had greeted them, but a silent storm of white, steady and relentless, peppering the glass and filling the indigo sky beyond with its mournful, radiant beauty. Marta put out the lamps and they lay quietly in each other’s arms, watching it fall and listening to the crackle of the fire until a grandfather clock on the landing outside struck five.
‘I suppose we’d better get ready for drinks,’ Marta said reluctantly.
‘Yes, and you’ll need to tidy up before the housemaid comes in to lay your clothes out. It never occurred to me that we’d be waited on to that extent.’
‘Oh, I told her not to bother. What a bloody nightmare that would be. Surely you did, too?’
‘No, I didn’t. It felt rude when it’s obviously what they do here. I wish I had now.’
‘Well, just make sure you stand her down for the night shift. You’ve already got someone to help you undress.’ Marta smiled. ‘I’ll come and collect you in half an hour. That’ll give us time to call in on Archie as we go down.’
‘And give him the third degree on Marlene, you mean.’
‘Something like that, yes, so make sure you’re ready.’
Josephine found her way back to her room, hoping she’d have time to wash and change before the maid came in to do whatever maids did. She cursed herself again for being too timid to refuse help, as Marta had done; it was ridiculous, but the most daunting aspect of the house party so far was how to behave with the servants. The strain of doing things correctly with a butler or housekeeper at her shoulder completely eclipsed any nerves she might have had at meeting Marlene; she was used to actresses, but Mrs Pendean and her effortless courtesy already put the fear of God into her.
She took the towels that had been laid out for her on the bed, and washed quickly in the nearest bathroom. Shivering, she hurried back to dress in front of the fire, but as she turned the corner, she saw the housekeeper coming out of the room two doors down from her own. To her relief, Mrs Pendean turned in the opposite direction and headed for the staircase, but an elderly man wearing a dog collar – presumably the Reverend Hartley – came out of his room after her and called her back. They began what looked like an earnest conversation on the landing, and Josephine made a beeline for her door, hoping to slip into her room unnoticed, but the housekeeper was too sharp for her and she knew it was only a matter of time before she received a visit. Sure enough, a few minutes later there was a polite knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ Josephine called, struggling with the zip which had caught halfway up in her haste to get the dress on before she was disturbed. She smiled at the housekeeper. ‘Good evening, Mrs Pendean.’
‘Good evening, madam. Now that you’re back, is there anything I can help you with?’
Perhaps Josephine was imagining the implied criticism that she had been absent without leave from her room, disrupting the smooth routines of the house, but she resisted the temptation to explain herself. ‘This dress isn’t being very co-operative, I’m afraid.’
‘Let me see.’
The defiant zip was dealt with in a second, and Josephine thanked her. She sat down at the dressing table to redo her make-up, hoping that Mrs Pendean would take charge of any other rituals that were expected of her, and watched in the mirror as the housekeeper picked up the day clothes that she had hurriedly discarded on the chair as she changed. Mrs Pendean shook the dress out and put it on a hanger, where it instantly fell straight and smooth, the cuffs flat against the skirt, with no errant sleeves sticking out and certainly no sign of the day’s long journey; the garment was tidied away in the wardrobe, and Josephine knew that it would emerge creaseless and as good as new whenever it was next required. ‘Thank you,’ she said again, but the comment met with no response, and she wondered if gratitude was somehow inappropriate. She found the silence awkward as Mrs Pendean walked over to turn down the bed, and decided just to be herself; there was little point in pretending she was used to this, particularly when she probably had far more in common with some of the servants than she did with the family who owned the house. ‘I imagine the island will look spectacular in the morning,’ she said, as she powdered her face. ‘Do you often get snow like this at Christmas?’
‘It’s unusual, madam. I’ve only known it once or twice in my lifetime, and not since my daughter was a little girl.’
‘We’re very lucky then.’
There was no answer, and Josephine assumed that the etiquette was to say only what needed to be said, but when she looked at the woman’s reflection in the mirror, she was astonished to find her on the verge of tears. Her instinct was to ask what was wrong, but she put her mascara on in silence and combed her hair, knowing that any further conversation would be unwelcome. Mrs Pendean went quietly about her business, taking advantage of the routine to steady her emotions, and when she spoke again, her voice was perfectly controlled. ‘What will you be wearing tomorrow, madam?’
‘The blue suit, I think,’ Josephine said.
‘Very well.’ The suit and two pairs of shoes were collected from the wardrobe, and Josephine realised that they were going to be pressed and polished. Briefly, she wished she’d brought some mending that badly needed doing; her own daily wasn’t especially handy with a needle. ‘And what time would you like to be called in the morning?’
‘Oh, I hadn’t thought. What time does the family usually go down?’
‘We always serve breakfast after the morning service on Christmas Day. That starts at nine o’clock, but I can arrange for you to have something beforehand in your room if you’d prefer?’
Josephine hesitated, tempted by the idea of a quiet start to the day, but her sense of obligation won out. ‘No, please don’t go to any trouble. After the service will be fine, and perhaps you could call me at eight?’
‘Of course, madam.’
She left the room, almost bumping into Archie on her way out, and Josephine stood to give him a hug. ‘Happy Christmas! Thank God you’re here. Now you can explain how all this works.’
He smiled. ‘I’m no expert, but what would you like to know?’
‘What do we do about tips, and why does the weather make the housekeeper cry?’
‘What?’
‘She was upset – something to do with her daughter, I think. It was all a bit awkward and I didn’t like to ask.’
‘Well, I can’t help you with that one, but as far as tips are concerned, it’s best to opt for a discreet thank you on your last morning.’ He stood back to admire her dress. ‘You look lovely.’
‘So do you, even more so than usual.’ It was true, she thought: Archie could carry black tie off better than anyone else she knew, but tonight he seemed particularly relaxed, and she remembered thinking the very same thing when they had last been in Cornwall together. ‘Is there anything you’d like to tell me after two days alone with Marlene?’ she asked coyly.