THE Christmas Eve parties here were marvellous when Mr and Mrs Tree lived here all the village came.' Mrs Cribb, housekeeper elect, dropped this unsubtle hint as she eased her comfortable bulk back against the AGA and poured another cup of tar-like tea from her equally dark-brown teapot. 'Mr Tree would nip into the kitchen when I wasn't looking and put goodness knows what into my rum punch. Cor, it was strong stuff! The vicar got in a right state one year and fell off the pulpit.'
Maryanne and Joe, the owners of Christmas Hall since May, have, so far, been tiptoeing around the issue of Mrs Cribb, who has resolutely stayed on in her flat like a kindly yet omnipresent squatter long after the deaths of her previous employers and throughout a protracted probate sale, during which she fought a losing battle with cobwebs, rainwater leaks and small creatures running races.
There have been other 'surprises', too, such as the mysterious emergence of a 'footpath' that crosses the drive, the annual 'tradition' of a free-for-all apple-pressing day in the old coach house, the presence of some Houdini-like, rose-destroying Wiltshire Horn sheep whose owner apparently has 'grazing rights' and the parish-council hoo-hah about their proposed heat-source pump.
Maryanne had been envisaging Champagne and Ottolenghi with their best London friends renting a cottage nearby, but Joe, more naturally gregarious and away in the city all week-he has no clue what she has to contend with, the dribbling showers, crackling electrics and curious neighbours -thought a Christmas Eve party would be a cracking idea. 'Darling, it'll be fun. And a great chance to get shot of that case of dodgy red at last.'
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber ? Sign In
This story is from the {{IssueName}} edition of {{MagazineName}}.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
Already a subscriber? Sign In
A trip down memory lane
IN contemplating the imminent approach of a rather large and unwanted birthday, I keep reminding myself of the time when birthdays were exciting: those landmark moments of becoming a teenager or an adult, of being allowed to drive, to vote or to buy a drink in a pub.
The lord of masterly rock
Charles Dance, fresh from donning Michelangelo’s smock for the BBC, discusses the role, the value of mentoring and why the Sistine chapel is like playing King Lear
The good, the bad and the ugly
With a passion for arguing and a sharp tongue to match his extraordinary genius, Michelangelo was both the enfant prodige and the enfant 'terribile’ of the Renaissance, as Michael Hall reveals
Ha-ha, tricked you!
Giving the impression of an endless vista, with 18th-century-style grandeur and the ability to keep pesky livestock off the roses, a ha-ha is a hugely desirable feature in any landscape. Just don't fall off
Seafood, spinach and asparagus puff-pastry cloud
Cut one sheet of pastry into a 25cm–30cm (10in–12in) circle. Place it on a parchment- lined baking tray and prick all over with a fork. Cut the remaining sheets of pastry to the same size, then cut inner circles so you are left with rings of about 5cm (2½in) width and three circles.
Small, but mighty
To avoid the mass-market cruise-ship circuit means downsizing and going remote—which is exactly what these new small ships and off-the-beaten track itineraries have in common.
Sharp practice
Pruning roses in winter has become the norm, but why do we do it–and should we? Charles Quest-Ritson explains the reasoning underpinning this horticultural habit
Flour power
LONDON LIFE contributors and friends of the magazine reveal where to find the capital's best baked goods
Still rollin' along
John Niven cruises in the wake of Mark Twain up the great Mississippi river of the American South
The legacy Charles Cruft and Crufts
ACKNOWLEDGED as the ‘prince of showmen’ by the late-19th-century world of dog fanciers and, later, as ‘the Napoleon of dog shows’, Charles Cruft (1852–1938) had a phenomenal capacity for hard graft and, importantly, a mind for marketing—he understood consumer behaviour and he knew how to weaponise ‘the hype’.
