WINTRY WALK

We went for a wintry walk at our local National Trust place. I guess in the Eighteenth Century, it would have been one of those grand houses with extensive parklands. It’s been in things like The Crown, Bridgerton, and notably the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice, in which Keira Knightley does a lot of pouting.

Today though, it was wintry white. The trees were laced with frost, and the grass was glistening. A thick fog hung, and the pale disc of sun shone hazily in its folds. It was all quite lovely really, trudging over the frozen grass and patchy gravel. Occasionally the wind blew some remnant ice off the trees.

“What’s that?” I asked, “Snow?” as white stuff fluttered around us. Of course not.

Sammy had forgotten her phone. While I was wondering about the way that that had somehow been my fault, she was busy using my phone to take pictures. It’s fair to say that she has more of an artistic eye, so I wasn’t really too bothered.

Anyway, I was enjoying the cool freshness of the day, listening to the crows caw-cawing in the trees and watching little bobble hats race about through the woods. Impossible, I thought, for Lord and Lady So-and-So to have imagined all this. I mean, a gift shop? In the stables? And members of the public drinking tea in the boot room and munching sausage rolls in the pantry? I suppose, the trees with their icy tops and lacework needles, their brittle branches and their frozen bark, are pretty much the same as they were when Keira was dallying about with Mr Darcy. But a lot changes.

“We’ve been here in all the seasons, I reckon.”

“Mmhm.”

“What’s your favourite?” I asked.

“Autumn,” said she. “It’s lovely in Autumn. Though… this is pretty good isn’t it?”

I felt her slip my phone back into my coat pocket, and then a warm, gloved hand fell into mine.

“Yes it is,” I replied. And I gave have her hand a squeeze.