Holly in December

by Clare Revell

  ****

  Pastor Nick Slater stood watching the disconsolate figure trudge away. Sorrow seemed to ooze from every part of her, overshadowing her natural beauty. It wasn’t a holiday. She’d have been happier if it was.

  He prayed for her as she headed down the road. She couldn’t be much more than mid-twenties. Was she the woman with the child the other tenants were complaining about? Had they succeeded in their attempts to get her evicted?

  Shaking his head, he turned back to the stairs. This block of flats wasn’t the greatest place to live, but it was all he could afford on his pastor’s salary, while he saved for a house. He was the assistant pastor to Headley Baptist, a growing Evangelical church in the heart of Headley Cross.

  It was a three-year appointment, and he was three months into it and loving it. Every part of the work filled him with joy and enthusiasm, whether it was children’s work, visiting the sick, or even offering to help out at the homeless shelter in town.

  OK, he hadn’t expected the other elders to be so keen for him on that idea when he’d suggested a short term thing over the Christmas period. He’d go there for an hour or so each day, bar Sundays, church work permitting, and do whatever he could to help those in need, starting Tuesday.

  He trotted back up the stairs, grateful for the three years he’d spent in the army. He’d kept up the same level of fitness, running, doing sit ups, and push-ups every day, and it seemed to be keeping him trim. This had turned out to be an advantage now he lived on the fifth floor in a block of flats with no working lift.

  He caught sight of his reflection in the steel doors of the non-working lift and shoved a hand through his black hair. No matter what he did to it, his hair would never lie flat. Perhaps he should do what his mother suggested and invest in hair gel. It was just so nineteen twenties. And he was a modern, twenty-first century bloke. Maybe he should just cut it really short. He’d worn his hair short during his army days, and it was definitely easier to care for.

  He snorted. Yeah, like that would go down well with the congregation. Although on second thoughts maybe he should borrow Pastor Carson’s biker leathers and preach in a grade one haircut.

  That really would challenge the congregation and their thinking. The more he thought about the idea, the better it seemed. He’d run it past the others at the next staff meeting. They’d no doubt hate it, but he’d bow to their better judgment. After all, he was the assistant, and they were the main men. He was here to learn and put into practice what he’d learnt in Bible College.

  He picked up his Bible and sermon notes and left to find somewhere quiet to sit and read. Yes, he should really do his prep in his flat, but he liked to do the final read through somewhere he was surrounded by the beauty of God’s creation, not stuck in a dingy room in a tiny one-bed flat even if for once his flat felt warm. But that just showed how cold it was outside.

  His thoughts returned to the young blonde woman with the intoxicating hazel eyes. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that he’d seen her in the company of a small child.

  Protect that young woman, Lord. And her daughter. Give her somewhere to stay out of this bitter cold. And if our paths ever cross again, and I pray they will, enable me to find a way to help her. She seems so troubled, so in need of the help that only You can give, and if I can be Your servant in that way then use me.

  2

  Sunday morning, Nick walked down the icy street to the church. His breath hung in the frosty air, his fingers were numb with cold and even his toes tingled. He needed to find his gloves. And hat. And scarf. His mother would predict a bad winter based on the temperature this morning. But this was the UK, where the weather frequently did all four seasons in the space of twenty-four hours.

  Thirteenth of December and already the mercury was touching freezing. What were the chances of getting a white Christmas?

  Nick approached the church, his gaze falling on the abandoned pub on the corner of the street. The church had put in an offer on it, but as yet they hadn’t heard as to whether they’d been successful or not. The idea of what they could do with such a building filled him and the other elders with anticipation.

  Community outreach could be done in such a way that they would encounter people who’d never normally darken the doorsteps of a church, show God’s love in action rather than just words, and if they were successful, the church planned to hire someone to work there full time, preferably with a background in social work.

  Standing outside the church was a young woman Nick recognized. It took a moment to work out it wasn’t one of the congregation; it was the lady he’d helped with the bags. She looked cold; his assumption proved correct as she rubbed her hands over her arms in an effort to warm them.

  He walked over to her. “Hello, again. We met the other day. I carried your bags down the stairs.”

  “Yes, I remember.” A faint smile creased her lips. “Hello, again.”

  “Are you all right?”

  She moved her head slightly to indicate yes. “It’s colder than it looks out here this morning.”

  “Are you coming in?”

  Hope shook her head. “I can’t. I haven’t been in a church in years. It really isn’t for people like me.”

  Nick resisted the urge to add it was for people exactly like her. Instead, he smiled. “Why not come on in the warm for a few minutes,” he said gently. “You don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. Just warm up for a few.”

  “OK.” She followed him up the steps. Her wide gaze took in the vaulted ceiling, wooden frame, carpets, and tall stained glass windows. The music group played in the front corner of the chapel, filling the building with music.

  It was incredible, seeing the reaction in someone else’s face. It wasn’t just him who felt like this. He gave her a sheet with the order of service on it. “Here.”

  She took it, holding it almost reverently. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  “The hymn books are in the chairs, but the words will be on the screen.” He pointed to the huge screen hanging in front of the organ behind the pulpit. “Where do you want to sit?”

  The woman shrugged. “The back,” she whispered.

  Nick nodded and showed her to a seat. At least she wasn’t shivering anymore. He headed down to the vestry, his mind running rampant. He hadn’t seen her around the flats since the day she’d left nor had he heard the child playing. Someone new was living in her place. Where was she living now? Where was her daughter? Too many questions with no answers filled his mind.

  He’d have to ask her after the service because, as always, he was running late. And he didn’t want to upset Jack any more than he had already with his timekeeping—or rather, the lack thereof.

  ****

  Hope sat, hoping she was invisible. She wasn’t staying. She hadn’t intended to come in at all, seeing as how she was on an emergency shopping trip for the shelter. Angel was safe with Lydia, one of the women who ran the place. Only the music sounded so good. She’d sit here for a few, then leave.

  Memories ran through her mind. Her early years, growing up in a church. Nothing like this one, but something resonated within her. It almost seemed like…home.

  The man who’d invited her in stood up in the pulpit. “Good morning, everyone. Welcome to Headley Baptist. My name is Nick Slater, and I’m the assistant pastor. I’m leading the service this morning, and a little later on, one of our pastors, Jack Chambers, will be reading God’s word, and then preaching to us.”

  Hope studied him. No collar. Her gaze flicked around the building noting details. He announced the first hymn and she stood with everyone else.

  Tears burned her eyes as the familiar words filled the building. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound… The hymn always reminded her of her sister. Actually, she and her siblings had nicknamed her Amazing Grace because she’d been able to do anything. Her other sister, Faith, had been called Faithful because she’d been so full of faith. Rick, her brother, was just Ri
ck, her rock. Hope had always been able to depend on him to get her out of a tight spot; until he’d joined the police force, and she could confide in him no longer.

  She was Hopeless. Not that the others called her that—they’d deemed her Hopeful. But she wasn’t. She’d fallen so far that no one could reach to pick her up again. She was the wretch that not even amazing grace could save.

  She sat with everyone else to listen to Nick tell the children’s story. She smiled faintly as he left the pulpit and sat on the floor in front of the chapel, all the children gathered around him. He was literally at their level. Angel would like that. She liked stories being told on the floor where she got to join in.

  “…and remember without Jesus in our lives we are all helpless and hopeless.”

  The words struck with the force of a thunderbolt, jarring her hard. Any sense of warmth left her instantly. As the children left for their classes, she headed outside into the cold air. She couldn’t stay. She had things to do and people depending on her.

  Braving the frigid air, Hope headed to the shop to pick up the few things she’d been asked to get. The center was out of teabags, milk, and beans. Not a great place to be when dinner was chili, and they went through gallons of tea in a day.

  Mrs. Franklin smiled. “Morning, Hope. I hear you’re working at the crisis center. Is that a new thing?”

  Hope nodded. “Yeah. I’ve come to pick up the order that Lydia rang through earlier.”

  Mrs. Franklin pointed to the pink floral trolley bag. “It’s all there. Bryan will bring the rest over in the van in the morning, and he’ll pick up the trolley then.”

  Hope smiled. “My aunt used to have one of these. Hers was black and white with shoes on it. We called it her granny trolley.”

  “They’re all the rage now that stores are charging for carrier bags. My granddaughter has one. Only she calls it a dolly trolley.”

  “I might have to get one,” Hope said. Especially now she didn’t have a car, shopping would be a major issue. She noticed the stuffed rabbit sitting on the counter. “Oh, he is so cute.”

  “He’s the last one. At two fifty they’ve been selling like hot cakes.”

  “I’ll take him. My daughter loves rabbits. She’s never forgiven me for killing Mr. Snuggles. He fell apart in the washing machine.” Hope pulled out her purse and paid for the rabbit. “He won’t replace him, but he might help me redeem myself slightly.”

  She tucked him in with the other things. “Thanks for this.” Taking hold of the trolley, she left the shop and headed back along the icy streets to the crisis center. It was a stone’s throw from the church and as she passed it, she could hear singing again. Something within her wanted to go back inside and hear more, but she didn’t. She had to get this back to where it was needed and check that Angel wasn’t driving Lydia crazy.

  She pushed open the front door and headed through the lobby to the main dining hall.

  Angel sat on a stool by the serving hatch, leaning over a coloring book. She glanced up. “I’m hungry, Mummy. Where did you go? You were gone ages.”

  “Not like you were alone,” Hope laughed. “And I told you, I had to go to the shop. You were perfectly fine here in the warmth with Miss Lydia.”

  “She’s busy cooking, but won’t let me have any.”

  “It’s not done yet.” Lydia laughed from the kitchen. “Did you get those bits, honey?”

  Hope wheeled the trolley to the kitchen door. “Sure did. Bryan will bring the rest of the order tomorrow and pick up the trolley then.” She looked at Angel. “Sit still while I put these away. And then maybe we’ll go and get some chips.”

  “Can’t we go now?” Angel closed her book.

  “Not yet.” Hope transferred the cartons of milk to the fridge. “Can you spare me for a few, Lydia?”

  “Of course. Kate and Vera will be in any second now, and then I’m off to home for the day. Sam isn’t feeling so good this morning, and as Adam is away, I feel I ought to be with her. You work far longer than you’re meant to anyway. Tori shouldn’t take advantage of you living here.”

  “I don’t mind. I just feel I owe her, that’s all. I mean, no job, no home…”

  “Just go spend time with Angel. We’ll be just fine here for a while. There’s still an hour or so before we open for the day.”

  “Thank you.” Hope pulled out the rabbit. “This is for you, Angel.” She handed him through the hatch.

  Angel grabbed the blue fluffy rabbit and squealed in delight. “Thank you, Mummy. I would hug you, but I’m not allowed in the kitchen.” She tilted her head. “I think I’ll call him Mr. Evans-Teush after my teacher at school.”

  Hope laughed. “I don’t think your teacher would like that.”

  “Sure he will. I’ll ask him tomorrow.” She put her book away. “Can we get chips now?”

  “We’ll go just as soon as I’ve finished here. Go and find your coat and put your coloring book and pencils away.”

  Angel got up and ran to gather the items.

  Lydia looked up from the huge pot of chili she was stirring. “Don’t hurry back. That child needs time with you. I’ll save you both pudding. Angel insisted I make treacle tart and custard.”

  Hope laughed. “She’d live off that if she could. I have to make it at least once a week.”

  “Well, if mine isn’t up to scratch, I shall have to get the recipe off you.”

  Angel came back just as she finished. “Can we go now?”

  “Yes, we can go now. Is rabbit staying here?”

  “No, he wants to come too.”

  “OK, but I’m not carrying him. You have to keep him safe at all times.”

  Angel looked at the rabbit seriously. “OK, Mr. Evans-Teush. There’s a rule for going outside. Straight there, straight back, and no talking to any strangers. If a stranger talks to you and Mummy isn’t there, you scream and run away.”

  Lydia chuckled. “Sound advice. Have fun. I’ll save you some pudding.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lydia.” Angel slid a hand into Hope’s. “Come on, then.”

  “I’m coming.” Hope started walking with her, her mind going back to the preacher from earlier.

  At any other time, she’d have found him attractive, and her heart would have pounded. She’d have been eager to attend church simply to sit and stare at him in the vain hope he’d notice her. No sane man would be interested in her, never mind a man of the cloth, a Godly man, no matter how good looking he was. In fact, that just made it even more unlikely.

  She glanced down at Angel and smiled at the rabbit in her daughter’s other hand. “He’ll have to share your chips.”

  “Rabbits don’t eat chips, Mummy. Don’t you know that?” Angel rolled her eyes and pretended to look insulted.

  Hope tried not to laugh. “Don’t they?”

  “No. He likes carrot bags.”

  “And he told you this?”

  Angel nodded. “I said he could have some.”

  “Then I’d better get him some. And maybe some fish fingers to go with your chips. Would you like that?”

  “Yes.” Music poured from the church as they walked past it. Angel paused. “We sing that in school,” she said. “Is it a school?”

  “It’s a church.”

  “Can we go in?”

  “Not now, because they’ll be finishing soon. Maybe another day.” Hope looked at her. “What do you want to drink?”

  Angel put the rabbit next to her ear and listened. “We want milk.”

  “Do rabbits drink milk? I thought he might prefer some coffee.”

  Angel scrunched up her nose. “How can anyone like coffee? Mr. Evans-Teush can share my milk.”

  “OK.” They walked past the church and along the street until they came to the junction with the High Street. There was the fast food place, or the church café. But she had a sneaking suspicion that the café wouldn’t be open today. Of course, she was right, and they had to go to the fast food place.

  Angel ra
n inside and up to the counter. Hope ordered and then carried the food over to a corner table at the back of the restaurant. As Angel started eating happily, Hope sipped the coffee.

  Angel alternately ate her own and pretended to feed the rabbit the carrot sticks. “Second bite, same as the first, a little bit crunchier and a whole lot worse.”

  Hope smiled. She and her sisters had chanted several different versions of that rhyme as they’d grown up.

  “Do you want one of my chips, Mummy?”

  Hope shook her head. “I’ve got coffee. Miss Lydia will save me some lunch.”

  “She said she’d save pudding.” She pushed half her chips over to Hope. “It’s not fair that you don’t eat, too.”

  Hope looked at her. Never had a child been more aptly named than her daughter. “OK, but just one, because they’re yours.” She took one and slid the rest back. “Thank you.”

  Angel smiled at her. “What happened to your mummy?”

  Hope paused with the chip at her lips. “She lives a long way away from here.”

  “Can we go and see her?”

  “Maybe one day.” Hope ate the chip. How did she explain to her daughter that she’d run away and now wouldn’t be welcome, even for a short visit?

  “For Christmas? Rueben’s going to his grandma’s house for Christmas. He’s going on an airplane to get there and it’ll take all day. Would we need to go on an airplane?”

  “No.” Hope picked up her coffee. “We could catch a train. It’ll take about four hours, maybe more if it’s a slow train and stops at every station.”

  “I shall ask Santa for Christmas if we can go and see her. Do you think he’d do that?”

  “You know there’s no such person,” Hope said.

  Angel frowned and squirmed as she finished her chips. “But there’s pictures of him all over the place now the decorations are up.”

  “Don’t argue with me.”

  Angel fidgeted on her chair.

  “Do you need a wee?”

  Angel nodded.

  “Then go. I’ll be right here when you get back. Leave the rabbit here.”

  As Angel jumped off her chair and headed towards the ladies, Hope kept an eye on her. At least she could trust her not to get lost now. But maybe, sending her alone wasn’t such a good idea. What if she got locked in? What if there was someone in there who’d hurt her?