After the Snow: A gorgeous Christmas story to curl up with this winter 2018!

Esme crossed her fingers and prayed that her mother was there. As they entered the main house, she could hear wild laughter coming from inside and one of the voices definitely belonged to a woman.

Climbing over various dogs and high-top boots dull with unbuffed polish, the smell of wet fur and drying leather filled the small kitchen. She and the Earl walked into the living room to find Jimmy and Diana doubled up with mirth and holding tumblers – the ones Jimmy collected with his Green Shield Stamps from the petrol station. Esme was so relieved she felt like crying.

‘Oh darling, you’re here,’ said her mother, looking at the Earl, and for a moment Esme felt confused. She had expected to see her mother as she had been when they were separated; slow, confused and unsure.

‘I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to find me. Henry, you are far too clever. Will I never be able to hide from you?’

‘This is not a joke, Diana. Your daughter was extremely worried,’ said the Earl.

‘Esme, sweetheart,’ said her mother, ‘you know me: free as a bird and with a will of my own. I tell you, Henry, I could bloody kill my husband for leaving me alone in this weather. But then again, if he hadn’t I would have had to endure drinks with all your ghastly friends. Instead, Jimmy has been filling me in on all the gossip. Poor Mrs Polk was left for dead out hunting yesterday. Knocked clean out after a fall. When she came round she thought she was at a cocktail party and started offering the whips drinks. It’s too funny. Imagine: “Tim, would you like red or white?” while she’s covered in mud and blood pours from her nose. She’ll be mortified, should she remember. She does so love the importance of her position as chief gate-shutter, poor love.’

It was a long time since Esme had heard her mother utter so many words at once.

‘Diana, I… We were worried. Esme and I have come to take you home.’

‘Yes, Mummy. I thought you were lost,’ said Esme, finding her voice.

‘Sweetie, I’m fine. And angel, you are adorable to come and rescue me. You care, I know you do, darling, and I’m sorry if I worried you. But look, everything has worked out perfectly. Come here and give me a kiss.’

‘You didn’t seem fine, Mummy, and if you were then why did you leave me on my own? Why didn’t you tell me you’d changed your mind and were coming here?’ All of a sudden Esme felt overcome with sadness, as if her mother really didn’t care about her at all.

‘Well, I didn’t think I was and when I lost you I got confused and went back to the church. And there, would you believe it, was darling Jimmy.’

Esme looked at Jimmy for an explanation.

‘That’s right. I left my wallet and had to go back to fetch it,’ he said.

‘That’s not strictly true. Jimmy put five pounds in the collection box by mistake so he returned to take it back. Isn’t that right, Jimmy?’

‘Well, yes, but I replaced it with one pound. I’m not that much of a tight-arse.’

‘So there we go. Come, Esme, come and sit next to me. Am I forgiven?’ She looked at the Earl as she said this.

Reluctantly, yet unable to resist, Esme went over to the sofa where her mother enfolded her in her arms.

She kissed her and whispered, ‘Darling Esme, my darling, darling little squirrel.’

‘Oh, Your Lordship,’ said Jimmy, as the Earl let out a big sigh. ‘Just sit down and have a drink. It’s Christmas for goodness’s sake. Come on Esme, what would you like? There’s some ginger beer in the fridge or make something yourself with the soda siphon.’ Jimmy’s accent was as thick as the smell of alcohol in the room.

The Earl accepted a glass filled with a golden liquid that shone through the crystal.

‘Happy Christmas, to us all. So nice to have the family together,’ Jimmy said, roaring with laughter.

Esme left the room to fetch her drink. Jimmy’s kitchen was as familiar to her as her own. She had been going to the farm since she was four, when she first started hunting. Jimmy had taught her to ride and took her and her fat Shetland pony on the lead rein until she was confident enough to ride to hounds on her own. In those days her mother would drive her to the meet and follow the hunt, forever concerned that she might have an accident. Jimmy had no such qualms. As far as he was concerned Esme was made of rubber and would bounce if she took a fall.

She wondered now how her mother could go from being so quiet and sad to being so cheerful. Her moods could change unbelievably quickly; in church, Esme had been scared she was going to faint. But anyway, at least she was happy now. She was always happy with Jimmy.

Esme poured herself a pint glass of fizz, grabbed an apple from the chipped fruit bowl and, after grabbing her coat, went outside into the yard, causing a sleeping lercher to yelp as she accidentally stepped on its paw.

‘Sorry, Mumfie. Didn’t see you there.’

From the stables, there came a collective whinny from horses always on the lookout for their next feed. A whiskery nose poked up, just visible above its door. It was Homer, standing on tiptoes to make himself noticed, Esme thought. He was pleased to see her. Suddenly she felt as if a balloon had been let out in her chest.

Was Homer the only one in her family who was pleased to be with her? Even on Christmas Day it seemed her mother would rather be with Jimmy. Her father had been happy for her to go alone to find her mother and she hadn’t even seen Sophia at the castle. At least Lexi and the Earl had been kind to her.

‘Hello, fella. Happy Christmas. Did you miss me? Have you had a nice day? Did Jimmy give you extra oats? You good boy. You know that Father Christmas bought you some lovely things. A curry comb and a dandy brush to make your mane all silky. And you won’t have to have a cold saddle next to your skin now ’cause you have a brand new sheepskin saddle pad. Imagine that? Here’s a fella; a lovely juicy apple for you.’

The pony took the apple from Esme’s hand in one giant bite. He rolled it around his mouth in an attempt to gain a good grip so he could crunch through the slippery skin. It popped back out. Esme nuzzled his nose with hers, his warm, sweet-smelling breath thawing the red spots of cold on her cheeks. Stiff whiskers, newly clipped and spiky, prickled her skin. His pretty honey-brown muzzle shone gold against his copper coat.

‘Too big for you, huh?’ she said. ‘Here, let me take a bite for you to make it easier.’ Esme put the slimy apple to her lips and took as large a bite as she could. Juice spurted out as her teeth pierced the taut skin.

‘There you go, boy. That’s better, isn’t it? Who’s my darling boy?’

Homer had disgusting manners, she thought. He ate with his mouth open, turning the apple sap to foam as he chomped away, making loud sucking, squelching sounds and bubbles. Round and round went his jaw in methodical turns to reduce the flesh to pulp.

‘Good boy. I’ll come back and say goodbye.’ Esme patted her pony and walked away.

Back in the farmhouse it seemed a party had kicked off. The Earl had joined in the merriment and was sitting on the sofa with Esme’s mother nestled in the crook of his arm, shoeless feet curled up underneath her. Jimmy sat on his ‘throne’ with Mumfie on his lap. His face was red and his eyes were creased with joy.

Esme went to sit on the footstool by the coal fire. Too big to be a lap dog, the lercher jumped down and lay beside her, his head and half his body on her knees.

She looked at the scene before her. Every time her mother turned to the Earl her eyes seemed to come alive. It was almost shocking in contrast to the detached, milky gaze reserved for her father.

‘Oh, and I’ll tell you another thing, Your Lordship,’ Jimmy was saying, ‘the next time you come to the meet, don’t go fannying around on your feet. It’s about time you got on a bloody horse. I tell you, if the Prince of bleeding Wales can stay on, you can too. Stop being such a prissy little girl and get your arse in the saddle.’

‘Jimmy, you’re a nightmare; my hunting days are over. Diana, tell him to stop bullying me,’ said the Earl, smiling. He flicked his wrist from his sleeve and looked at his watch. ‘Goodness, it’s nearly two o’clock. We’d better be off.’

‘C’mon, Your Lordship. Don’t go yet. One more for the road.’

‘No, Jimmy, you are very kind but I must get Mrs Munroe and Esme back home. We’re already very late.’

‘Oh, Henry, just one more, then we’ll go. Come on, how often do we get time like this? Esme, darling, be a love and call home. Tell Mrs Bee we are on our way.’

Esme was torn between the prospect of lunch and presents and the fun of this little group. She felt like one of the grown-ups now, especially as Sophia wasn’t there to enjoy their secret party, and it was a relief to see her mother full of life and humour again so she went out to the hall to the phone, its disc whirring after her small finger dialled each number.

‘Mrs Bee? It’s me, Esme. We’re leaving now. I’m with Mummy. Lexi’s father is going to drive us home.’

‘Esme! Is your mother all right? Where did you find her?’

‘It’s a long story, Mrs Bee. I’ve had a real-life adventure.’

‘Adventure or not, lunch is going to be ruined! Your father and Sophia are already back; Mr Miller dropped them off an hour ago. They’ll be relieved to hear you’ve found your mother. Will she be needing a hot bath?’

‘No thank you, Mrs Bee. She seems very warm,’ said Esme. ‘We’ve been having such fun. Oh, and I told Homer about his presents – he whinnied with happiness.’

‘He was probably telling you that you’re late for lunch!’

‘Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon. Tell Daddy. Bye, Mrs Bee,’ she said, before hanging up.