The quiet and peaceful Christmas that she had been so looking forward to would now be turned topsy-turvy by events and, as she stood for the next carol, she thought of her cottage, glowing with light as it had welcomed her home late last night. She had been tired and emotional, but no matter how she felt, it was her one true constant, the centre of herself to which she always returned.
She smiled at a young family across the aisle from her – two primary school age girls and their parents. If past Christmases with her own children were anything to go by, then the next couple of days would be busy and chaotic for them, yet still they had carved out some time to come to the church and sing. Life goes on; she must remember that, even though change had forced its way into hers again.
A little while later, Peg made her way through the churchyard, out of the lych gate and into the lane. Just getting that far had taken a while, as she stopped to chat to neighbours, the vicar and her friends, but now the calls of ‘Merry Christmas’ had dwindled and the last of the stragglers were making their way home.
The day had been bright and clear. Bitterly cold, but without it, the trees would not be sparkling and the fields would not be crisp underfoot. Dusk had fallen during the service and the sky had turned a deep mauve, a single gilded streak of pink lining the horizon. Although Peg’s walk home would take her to the other end of the village, the darkening skies meant her way was now lit by what seemed like a thousand twinkling stars – strings of lights criss-crossed the street, hung in trees, from roofs and windows and woven through bushes. Tiny sparks of joy.
She smiled as she passed a woman posing for a photo beside one of the Christmas trees on the green. There were two, one at either end.
‘Peg…?’
She swung around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Unfamiliar, and yet…
‘Hello!’ She laughed. ‘What are you doing here?’
The man gave her a gentle smile. ‘You remember me then?’
‘Of course I do,’ Peg replied. ‘How are you, Henry?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’ He paused, looking somewhat awkward. ‘Areyouokay?’
When Peg’s neighbour, Judith, had told her about the mystery man who had arrived at her house yesterday bearing gifts, she had immediately thought of Henry. In truth, she couldn’t think of anyone else who might have been to see her, but the thought that it could have been Henry was a nice one. It had made a difference to the turned-upside-down world of the last few hours. She’d also been sad to have missed him, made worse by the fact that she would probably never know the truth for certain.Hadit been Henry who’d come to her door? And if it was, why had he come? They were questions she had surmised would never receive an answer, but now here he was, and perhaps with him, the opportunity to ask them.
‘I’m fine,’ she replied. ‘Although it only seems five minutes since we were stuck in that traffic jam.’
‘It does…’ Henry smiled again, warm, but also perhaps a little sadly. ‘I’m sorry that?—’
He was interrupted by a woman who Peg recognised as the one having her photo taken.
‘Hello…’ she said, smiling while assessing Peg at the same time – subtly, but it was there nonetheless.
Peg couldn’t remember her name, but it had to be Henry’s daughter-in-law. She didn’t look at all embarrassed to have cut across their conversation. Peg returned the greeting, realising as she did so that two other people were also standing at the periphery of her vision. She turned slightly as Henry took a step to his left. The group looked curious.Henrylooked distinctly uncomfortable.
He held out his arm to bring them into the conversation. ‘Peg, this is my son, Adam, his wife, Sofia and her mother, Blanche. This is Peg, everyone.’ He paused. ‘We’ve just been to the carol service.’
Peg nodded, smiling. Sofia, that was it. ‘Hello, wasn’t it lovely? Have you been before?’
Sofia was the first to shake her head, moving closer. ‘No, but we shall definitely be coming again. It’s such a pretty village. I don’t know why we’ve never been before given that it’s so close.’
Peg wondered how much she should say, conscious that in all probability she knew rather more about Henry’s family than they did about her. Sofia’s eyes missed nothing as she surreptitiously glanced at Peg’s hair and clothing. Let her look, thought Peg. She nodded. ‘You should. I can’t vouch for any of the other services, but there’s something about carols on Christmas Eve, the way it makes you feel…’ She was about to say more but something in the woman’s blank look told her there was little point.
‘It’s much busier than I thought it would be,’ remarked Sofia.
‘I know, isn’t it great? Practically the whole village turns out.’
Adam smiled. ‘And do you live in the village?’
‘I do. I’ve lived here for thirty-odd years.’ They were standing a stone’s throw from her cottage but she wasn’t about to mention that.
‘In the same house?’ asked Sofia. ‘Goodness…I can’t imagine that.’
‘Can’t say I’d want to be anywhere else,’ she replied, smiling at Henry, who was looking even more anxious. She would have liked to invite him in for a cup of tea and a bite to eat, but that would have meant inviting themallin, and Henry looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.
Sofia looked around her. ‘It is very pretty…’ She turned so that she could take in the whole of the street. ‘There are some lovely houses here. What are the prices like?’
Peg laughed. ‘I’ve absolutely no idea, I’m afraid.’
Now Adam was beginning to look uncomfortable and, given the details of the conversation she’d shared with Henry, she wondered if Adam was worried about the size of his mortgage. Sofia did look as if she was sizing the place up. At first glancethough, she’d be far too glamorous for Lower Steeping. Peg had nearly gone to the carol service in her wellies, and had only just thrown them off at the last minute. The freezing temperatures had hardened the surface of the main road today, but with tractors moving up and down it several times a day, for much of the year it was covered in mud.
