The Christmas Invitation

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘That will be an interesting experience,’ River said. ‘And Tottie tells me that all the performers foregather at Underhill, where the costumes are stored, to get ready.’

  ‘Yes, they’ve always been kept in a big cupboard in the tack room; then they’re moved into the house in time to be handy for the ceremony.’

  ‘I’m glad Mark has come round to the idea of taking his part in the ceremony and hosting the Gathering as usual,’ said Clara. ‘Sybil’s so pleased.’

  ‘The Gathering?’ enquired River.

  ‘Everyone goes back to Underhill for hot toddy and treacle cake afterwards – that’s the Gathering,’ Clara explained. ‘In the past, before Starstone was drowned, so many people went that the courtyard as well as the great hall was full.’

  ‘I’m surprised that Mark agreed to host the Gathering this year, what with his economy drive,’ said Henry.

  ‘He caved in.’ Tottie grinned. ‘Mrs Gidney just carried on and made the huge cake as usual – it’s like a giant sticky ginger parkin, River – and Gidney ordered the ingredients for the hot toddy.’

  ‘And since Mark’s playing his role in the ceremony this year, you can be a spectator,’ said Clara to her husband. ‘And if Fred can get over from the pub, Lex can, too.’

  ‘It’s a pity Zelda won’t be here in time for it. I can’t remember the last time she was,’ said Tottie.

  ‘Not for many years,’ agreed Clara. ‘She either arrives too late, or not at all because she’s in a pantomime.’

  Teddy, who had been absorbed in completing another picture in his magic painting book, looked up worriedly at this.

  ‘What if it snows a lot and Mummy can’t get here for Christmas?’

  ‘A thaw might have set in by Thursday,’ I suggested.

  ‘I’m sure she’ll make it, even if she has to ski over from Thorstane,’ Henry assured him and then, as if we’d summoned her, Zelda rang to speak with Teddy.

  ‘Of course,’ said Clara, who had picked up the receiver. ‘I’ll put him on. We’ve had some snow, so he’s a bit anxious about whether you’ll be able to get here on Thursday.’

  Zelda must have reassured him, because Teddy relaxed after a few moments of listening to her and turned to the topic most absorbing him at the moment: what he was getting for Christmas.

  ‘Father Christmas explained you’d probably come on the train and they wouldn’t let you bring me a pony, so perhaps you’ve got me something else, like a dragon?’

  The phone squawked faintly and then Teddy said, ‘All right. Night-night, Mummy,’ and put it down.

  ‘Mummy says I’ll have to wait and see what she brings me,’ he said, then added, darkly, ‘There’s too much waiting at Christmas.’

  We all laughed and Tottie said, ‘Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise otherwise, would it?’

  ‘You like dragons?’ asked River.

  ‘Yes, and I know lots of stories about them,’ Teddy said enthusiastically. ‘Bilbo told me a good one and there’s another in my book about a dragon who ate four knights for breakfast. But I don’t like the story about St George because he kills the poor dragon.’

  ‘I see where you’re coming from,’ said River. ‘Meg told me about Bilbo and I know his wife, Moonflower. I haven’t seen her for several years, though, so I look forward to meeting up with her again.’

  ‘If you go down to their shop – Preciousss – Flower will sell you something. She’s keen as mustard,’ I warned him.

  ‘Preciousss – and Bilbo? Do I detect a slight interest in Tolkien?’

  ‘You could say that,’ Henry said drily. ‘They called the baby Grace-Galadriel too.’

  ‘Pretty,’ approved River.

  Teddy yawned hugely.

  ‘Time for bed now – it’s very late, Teddy,’ said Tottie, getting up. ‘Come on, let’s get you ready.’

  ‘Will you come up and read me a story, Uncle Henry?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll be there when Tottie calls me,’ he promised.

  When they’d gone up, Clara explained to River about Zelda.

  ‘Teddy’s mother is Lex’s sister and so my niece. They’re my sister Bridget’s children, but she and her husband live in New Zealand now. She’s much younger than me, which is why Lex, Zelda and Henry’s great-nephew, Mark, are all about the same age.’

  ‘And Meg, too,’ said Henry, smiling at me. ‘Another great-niece.’

  ‘Zelda is an actor, so she finds it more convenient for Teddy to live here, and it’s better for him to be settled in one place,’ continued Clara. ‘She loves him dearly, but I’m not sure she’s cut out for day-to-day mothering.’

  ‘She sounds a bit like my mum,’ I said. ‘The love is there and they want to know you’re safe, but out of sight, out of mind!’

  Tottie called downstairs and Henry went to read Teddy his story, though he’d been so sleepy he’d probably have nodded off in moments.

  But none of us stayed up late that night: we were all tired.

  ‘Truly, you are a Renaissance man and know something about everything, River,’ I told him as I wished him goodnight. He’d come upstairs carrying a glass beaker of some strange herbal tea that he liked to drink last thing. It smelled like old hay sprinkled with earthy spices, and possibly was.

  When I looked out of my bedroom window next morning, the sky was still a heavy, half-mourning lavender grey and a fresh layer of snow gleamed below. But then the first pale tinge of rose-gold appeared behind the furthest hills and I thought perhaps it would be another day like the last, with the sun eventually thawing the snow and ice from the roads.

  That would be good for the Solstice ceremony … and I’d promised River I’d have that talk with Lex today, if I could get him alone long enough. I hoped so because, now I’d made up my mind, I wanted to get it over with.

  Wondering exactly what I’d say and how he would take it made me late down for breakfast, but I found everyone still seated around the kitchen table, the air redolent with the mingled scents of freshly baked bread and coffee.

  ‘We thought you were going to stay in bed for ever, like Sleeping Beauty,’ Teddy said, waving his cereal spoon at me, like a slightly dripping and utilitarian magic wand.

  ‘You did,’ said Tottie. ‘The rest of us didn’t get up that early this morning, either.’

  ‘I thought if Meg was still asleep when Lex came, he could be Prince Charming and kiss her to wake her up,’ Teddy said, and I felt myself go pink.

  ‘I was just looking out of the window and daydreaming, I’m afraid.’

  Den cut me a couple of slices from the still warm loaf, which had sunflower seeds on top, and Tottie passed the honey.

  They’d all been discussing the weather when I came in and, like me, thought it would thaw later.

  ‘Once the sun goes down again, it’ll be very cold for the ceremony, but we start as soon as it’s dark, which, of course, this being the shortest day of the year, is mid-afternoon. We’ll be back at Underhill carousing before the roads start to freeze.’

  ‘I’ve rung Lex to tell him you’ll take the part of Old Winter, River,’ Henry said. ‘Unless Fred can’t get over, he can just watch this year.’

  ‘Fred’s the Straw Man, with bundles of straw tied round him,’ explained Tottie. ‘It was probably corn originally, but the heads have dropped off over the years.’

  ‘Interesting,’ said River. ‘What are the other characters?’

  ‘Mark will be the Green Man, with a leafy mask affair, Bilbo has antlers attached to a leather hood, Tottie wears a bird mask and Len, who is the gardener and groom at Underhill, has a hood with ram horns. I’m sure it’s all to do with ensuring fertility, abundant food and that kind of thing, after the birth of the New Year.’

  River nodded. ‘I’m sure you’re right, and we do something similar at the Farm, though when I began it I took elements from several ancient rituals to add to my own.’

  ‘Having enough food was the important thing when our ancestors first began holding th
e rite – animals, crops and game,’ agreed Clara. ‘And the symbolic banishing of Old Winter to make way for spring.’

  ‘I like Tottie’s bird mask best,’ said Teddy. ‘I’d like to wear that one, when I’m grown up.’

  ‘You can, because I’ll probably be past it by then,’ said Tottie. ‘I’ll be able to watch you instead of the other way round.’

  ‘Clara and I remember the ceremony from when we were children in Starstone,’ said Henry. ‘The whole village used to walk up there in procession with torches, it was wonderfully exciting: the dark night, the sky and the bright star over the stone, the fire crackling and the strange figures moving around the Starstone.’

  ‘It still is exciting,’ said Clara, ‘especially when Old Winter suddenly appears from the cave. Even though I know what will happen, it’s a thrill when he emerges and walks around declaiming his lines.’

  ‘I hope I do the part justice,’ River said. ‘Henry is going to run me through my lines later.’

  ‘I was a baby when the reservoir flooded the valley,’ said Tottie regretfully. ‘I only remember the ceremony from later, when there weren’t so many people left to attend it. But still, it’s really magical. Even when I knew who the performers were, they took on the persona of their characters during the ceremony. And now I’m part of it!’

  After breakfast, Clara and Henry went off to work and I borrowed Lass and took her into the study to draw. I’d taken a couple of biscuits with me, so I had her complete attention.

  When I’d finished – it was another little sketch intended as a gift – I moved my easel and painting gear into the conservatory at the spot where I’d drawn Tottie.

  A large wicker cone-shaped basket lay on the table, already filled with fruit, glossy citrus leaves and the feathery ends of carrots: the perfect cornucopia!

  When I was ready for action I could still see Tottie and River meandering round the garden as if it was midsummer and not a freezing cold and snowy day, so I went into the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee.

  Teddy and Den were in there and very mysterious about a surprise they were cooking up …

  Tottie was in the conservatory when I went back, and she took up her pose. Through a gap in the foliage we could see River, wrapped in his flowing cloak, standing in the middle of one of the knot gardens by a spiral box tree, with his arms raised up to the sky. His back was turned to us and, apart from the rainbow-striped pixie hat, he looked rather impressive.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ asked Tottie.

  ‘Invoking something, I expect.’ A good outcome for this talk I hoped – and dreaded – to have with Lex, perhaps?

  River was in the kitchen again, writing down a recipe for Den, by the time we ended the sitting and went to find something to eat.

  Teddy proudly displayed the surprise he’d cooked up with Den – cupcakes topped with edible Santa and snowman decorations – and we were allowed one each.

  Henry came in and suggested to River that they take Lass and walk over to Underhill to check on the costumes, and he could teach him his lines on the way.

  ‘Perhaps on the way back, I might call in at Preciousss, to catch up with Moonflower,’ said River. ‘What about you, Meg? Would you like some fresh air?’

  ‘No, thank you, I’m going to the conservatory again for a bit,’ I said, which I did, working on the rainforest of foliage in the background of Tottie’s portrait.

  I’d already sketched in her head: she had the sort of plump, round face that seemed to have sunk in the middle around the nose, like a slightly deflated sponge cake.

  Then I went up to my turret and read another of Clara’s books, to which I was becoming addicted. In fact, I was so engrossed that I entirely missed Lex’s arrival. When Teddy came to call me down, I was surprised to see him there, seated next to River on one of the sofas, deeply engaged in some discussion.

  Tea was early, but fairly substantial today, since the ceremony would make dinner extremely late.

  There was an extra layer of anticipation in the room added to that already sparked by the countdown to Christmas Day.

  Soon it started to go dark and it was time for the advance party of players, Tottie and River, to leave for Underhill. Lex was going to drive them over, and then go up on the quad bike to light the fire and torches, taking River, in his Old Winter guise, with him.

  I made sure River had several layers of warm clothing on beneath his silver lamé before I let him go out into the cold: he could be careless about these things and he wasn’t as young as he was.

  28

  Headlong

  Once the advance party had left, the rest of us began to get kitted out for the cold weather, before piling into Clara’s Range Rover, which was a bit of a squeeze, though of course, coming home, we’d have Lex’s pick-up too.

  There were already a few vehicles parked along the road below the hill and a group of people had gathered, ready for the ascent. In fact, the number of Starstone Edge inhabitants there that I hadn’t yet met was a surprise, but I supposed some of them were from the farms and outlying cottages.

  As we got out to join them, a bonfire suddenly burst into life high on the hill, just below the Stone, and there was a ragged cheer. A few moments later, the Stone itself was ringed in fire.

  ‘See up there, Meg? The performers are almost at the ledge,’ said Clara, pointing, and I noticed for the first time the bobbing line of torchlight ascending the hill.

  Sybil, in a dark blue Puffa jacket and ski trousers, materialized from the darkness of the Underhill drive.

  ‘Come on, we’d better get going,’ she urged us, and we followed the stream of people heading slowly up the path, which was mercifully clear of snow, though there were great patches of it on the hillside.

  The route was wide and zigzagged to and fro, so that the gradient was never very steep. I found myself next to Flower and Bilbo, who had the baby inside his padded coat. You couldn’t see anything of her, except a knitted hat and a bit of cheek and nose. Apart from Teddy, who was walking ahead with Clara and Henry, I didn’t see any other children.

  The path opened out just below the plateau and Lex was waiting there by the quad bike to give Sybil the keys.

  ‘Sybil will want to go down ahead of the rest of us, to make sure everything’s ready for the Gathering,’ Henry explained.

  ‘Teddy, I’m relying on you to pull me up this last stretch of hill,’ Clara told him, as he tugged impatiently at her hand.

  ‘Come along, everyone. They’ll start in a minute!’ urged Henry.

  We gathered around the fire on the ledge below the Stone, sheltered from the wind by a half-circle of rocky outcrops, one of which held the deep fissure in which River was concealed. Henry warned me not to go beyond the white-painted boulders that ringed the other side, since there was a steep drop down.

  ‘Quiet!’ someone shouted, and then a faint drumming and chanting drew our attention upwards, to where the strange shapes of the performers had begun to circle the Starstone.

  The flames from the torches seemed to leap, twirl and gesture with the figures, and snatches of words, borne by the breeze, floated down to us. They sounded like doggerel, and I remembered Tottie saying that’s what they were.

  The tempo picked up and the figures gyrated, gestured and stamped faster and faster and faster, until it all came to a climax with a sudden great shout!

  In the following silence, the audience turned as one and spread around the fire, their attention now all on the rock face at the back of the ledge, where Old Winter had appeared, ghost-like and startling in sparkling silver, as if covered with frost. He wore a gilded mistletoe crown on his long white hair and carried a tall staff twined with ivy. As he reached the firelight, his eyes gleamed an almost unearthly blue.

  For someone the size of an elf, he made a very impressive entrance, even to me, who had seen him garbed in those robes many times before, though not, of course, with the mistletoe crown. He’d probably incorporate that in his own rites nex
t year.

  ‘I am Old Winter, here to stay. None of your magic will drive me away,’ he chanted, circling the fire and occasionally pausing to shake his staff in one of the spectators’ faces, so that they fell back in mock fear.

  Then the audience drew aside, making way for the other performers to come forward, one by one, until they were all gathered together, facing the now isolated figure of Old Winter.

  What with the cloaks, masks, leather tabards and bizarre horned headgear, it was like the heavy metal version of West Side Story.

  Then the Green Man, easily recognizable by the oak leaves that spouted from the mouth of his mask (and I had forgotten he was Mark until that moment), stepped forward and loudly proclaimed that Old Winter’s day was done and he should be gone forthwith.

  Something must have been thrown on the fire at this point, because it suddenly and effectively flared up in a rainbow of colours, before dying down again, and by the time our eyes had readjusted, Old Winter had vanished.

  It was very effective and there was a spatter of applause, but this was not quite the end. The Green Man and the others took up stations around the fire and recited in turn a line or two more, though what I could catch made little sense. I expect it’s like Chinese Whispers and changes a little every time it gets passed down a generation.

  The fire was starting to die down now, but there was enough light to make out the antlered or horned headdresses, a kind of Straw Man figure and the scary hawk-like bird mask that must conceal Tottie.

  It would make such an amazing surreal picture! I moved backwards into the darkness behind the others to take it all in, especially the way those masks seemed to contort and come alive in the flickering light of the fire …

  Then I suddenly remembered Henry’s warning to keep inside the border of white-painted rocks and turned to see if I was close.

  I was, and beyond them the dark, opaque density of the sky seemed to merge into nothingness.

  ‘The star!’ someone shouted behind me and I looked up in time to see a bright diamond pinprick briefly appear between heavy clouds over the Stone.