Christmas had approached with a
certain degree of stealth. Its arrival
had almost gone by unnoticed and its lodgings had been confined to the elements
rather than the inner warmth of a family hearth and home. It had been left to fend for itself in the
snow and the sporadic winter winds that raged before resting briefly. Christmas, it seemed, had been absent too
long. Upon returning it found
that its once close and loving family had become strangers to the world and to each
other until, in an unexpected and united gesture, New Wood's residents
began rapidly rediscovering themselves and their voices in the sepulchral silence.
It began first with just one meticulously wrapped present placed beneath
the tree in Market Square, a single gift from an unknown person who had placed
it there perhaps as a reminder to themselves that not everything was completely
unsalvageable. That one simple gesture begot
another. Under an hour later several
more presents had appeared, and several hours later than that the amount had
surpassed three hundred, a record number for New Wood. The residents hadn't spoken to each other and
neither had they hinted in any way that this time-honoured and hitherto
forgotten tradition was to be honoured at all.
It had happened seemingly without forethought, without any prior
discussion and without the pessimism that had plagued much of the townsfolk
since news of Eventide's probable collision course with the Earth. One resident followed the other, and
sometimes two appeared simultaneously each with that same accompanying smile
that had once been so painless to express.
One by one they placed their presents carefully beneath the tree and
waited; they waited because they knew each other as well as they knew
themselves. They no longer looked up to
the sky with the dread that had governed the majority of them these past few
weeks. Now they looked forward towards
the tree, past the tree, into the heart of the town and into the hearts of
their friends who they knew would soon arrive as they themselves had arrived
with animated grins, presents and placid eyes that no longer housed fear. New Wood's closed doors had opened again and
from within had poured forth that temporarily misplaced sense of community.
Over the course of the next six hours several hundred people flocked to Market Square. Longchester House had emptied and its aged
residents had joined the younger, the youthful and the youngest each carrying
presents, candles, decorations for the tree and, in George's case, a head full
of Christmas carols ready to be voiced into the night. It was a clear defiance of what lingered
above. Barbara was there also, clutching
a candle and watching the flicker of flame leaving luminescent trails in the winter
air as she moved it gently from left to right while searching for her son's face in
the crowd.
Upon hearing the growing congregation of voices close by, Mina had
appeared at her shop door and had observed in stupefied silence as the crowd continued
to grow. She disappeared momentarily and returned
seconds later with her own ornate candlestick sporting a rim of small and scrupulously
carved fairies circling the base. It was
one of the first things she'd ever created.
She soon found her place in a crowd of people she'd known all her life
as Hal handed her a candle from amidst the maturing throng of bodies. He gently nudged his way through with a grin
and hugged her tightly as candlelight continued to gleam into existence all
around them. Edna watched from a small
distance away and couldn't detain her smile a moment longer. She'd been one of the first to arrive and one
of the first to place a present beneath the tree. Now she stood holding a candle whilst looking
around and trying to convince herself that this wasn't some fabricated dream.
Faces continued to appear, some more unexpected than others. Officer Benson had remained at the rear of
the crowd before Daniel clipped him jokingly around the back of the head and
pushed him forward. Benson span around
with a pre-planned look of contempt before releasing a chuckle that surprised both
of them. They moved inward amongst
the other residents before each accepting a candle. Although Daniel knew very
few people there, it was enough to know that they all knew him.
When Phil arrived several minutes later he appeared visually to condemn
the proceedings. He cast his disapproving eyes from one smiling face
to the next before those same disapproving eyes found his mother standing
amongst them clutching a lit candle. He
remained still for a time and seemed to withdraw from the moment, casually
removing himself from everything and everyone around him as he watched Barbara
socialising in her own inimitable way.
She half-smiled and leaned her head forward whenever anyone glanced her way. It was an almost regal gesture. When she turned her head and looked straight
toward Phil he felt that same twinge tapping his spine, that same inexplicable
sense of unease that had governed most of his adult life whenever he saw her. Even now he didn't know what to do
or say, how to react or how to approach, but approach he did. He hadn't expected to see her twice in one
day. He moved forward and readied his
words. He'd mention something about
Christmas and the candles or he'd talk about how cold it was. He'd speak about anything and everything if
only to avoid those self-made silences he'd become so efficient at creating
whenever his thoughts outweighed his words.
Within seconds of standing next to her Phil felt his mother's arm curl around his
as another of Longchester House's residents handed him a candle and proffered a
smile. There'd been no need for words. In fact very few people were speaking at all. Aside from occasional whispers, handshakes
and hugs, it seemed that the residents of New Wood were happy just to be there,
to be outside amongst friends and family and without the burden of despair that had been circling their souls for too long. It was enough... it was just enough.
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