Max grips it warmly, ‘And you’ve gotta be Malcolm. Great to meet you, sir.’
‘Oh please,’ Malcolm says, ‘less of the “sir”. I am delighted you could join our Christmas gathering.’
They are interrupted by the arrival of Rev. Ruth with Mrs Appleby.
‘Well, just do the best you can, Mrs Appleby,’ Ruth is saying, and Malcolm gets the impression that Mrs Appleby has been complaining about something.
Mrs Appleby makes a snorting noise like an angry pig and, ignoring everyone else, heads towards one of the cupboards muttering, ‘Make do without angelica, she says. No one will notice,shesays. But my Colin always used angelica on his trifle. And what does she know about cooking anyway? I’ve seenherkitchen.’
Malcolm follows Mrs Appleby to the cupboard, where she is now clattering about rearranging buckets and mops. ‘Might I be of assistance, Mrs Appleby?’
‘I very much doubt it,’ she says, turning round to face him.
He chooses to overlook this provocation. ‘I heard you mention you need some angelica. Perhaps I could bring some for you tomorrow?’
‘Well, it will be too blooming late then,’ she declares, looking at him like he is stupid. But as she turns away, he could almost believe he hears a quiet, ‘Thank you, though.’
As he moves back to the others, he catches Rev. Ruth watching him, grinning. ‘That’s nice. Getting to know Mrs Appleby, Malcolm?’ Not waiting for an answer, she continues, ‘I’ve just remembered, I’ve got a message for you from Padam.’
Malcolm tries not to appear as keenly interested as he feels. ‘Oh, have you?’ he says airily, and wonders why Padam hadn’t just sent him a text.
‘Yes, I popped into the bookshop just before it closed, and he said he’s very sorry, but he can’t come to midnight mass tonight as his nephew has organized something.’
Malcolm feels ridiculously disappointed, and it comes to him that he now knows the meaning of the word ‘crestfallen’. He had been so looking forward to seeing Padam later.
Rev. Ruth moves over to him and rubs his arm, and standing on tiptoe whispers to him, ‘But he would be delighted to join us for lunch tomorrow.’
She grins when she sees Malcolm’s reaction and, making a swipe with her hand like a table-tennis player scoring a point, adds, ‘Well, honestly Malcolm, were you ever going to get around to asking the poor man. I had to do something,’ then humming ‘God Rest you Merry, Gentleman’ to herself, she wanders off to change for the service.
Malcolm is more than happy for his dear friend to win that point, and he has to stop himself from slapping Max on the back, who has just appeared carrying a box of crackers to add to the pile.
As Yana seems to have everything under control, he offers his services to Glen, who is lighting the many candles around the church.
‘That would be a great help. I need to change the colour of the altar cloth, the hangings and the burse and veil, now it’s nearly Christmas,’ Glen says, handing him a long lighter.
‘May I ask what that signifies?’ Malcolm asks, wondering what on earth a burse and veil is.
‘Purple is the colour of advent; white or gold are the colours of Christmas. We’ve inherited rather a lot of gold. It all looks rather magnificent.’
At this point Rev. Ruth emerges, dressed in a long gold cloak-like vestment that shimmers as she walks. Malcolm thinks his friend looks rather regal, even though thegarment is a little on the large size. As if reading his thoughts, she swishes it slightly. ‘All made for men,’ she informs him. ‘This chasuble was embroidered fifty years ago. I don’t suppose they ever imagined a woman wearing one.’ She reaches in her pocket and draws out another lighter. ‘Come on, I’ve got a bit of time, I’ll help.’
Together they move into the body of the church, lighting candles as they go.
‘Thank you for inviting Padam,’ Malcolm says a little awkwardly.
Ruth just throws him a cheeky look but says nothing.
‘Are you looking forward to midnight mass?’ he asks.
‘Goodness me, yes. I may be absolutely shattered, but there is something magical about this church filled to bursting as we greet Christmas Day. It really is what it’s all about. Despite all the …’ She stops, looking guilty.
‘All the what?’ Malcolm asks, intrigued.
Rev. Ruth laughs, ‘Shall we just say, there is always a bit to contend with.’
‘I believe, after that, you have to … er … spill the beans,’ Malcolm insists.
She is grinning now. ‘Well, Selwyn the organist will be especially grumpy playing the old favourites –again. Then Brian, who leads the choir, does like to showcase something no one will have heard of. He loves an audience, does Brian.’ She chuckles. ‘It might even be something of his own composition – which can be interesting. Then there is Norman, who is doing one of the readings. He is rather deaf and prone to fall asleep, so don’t be surprised if I suddenly start shouting just before his bit. Usually does the trick.’
