A Fairy Tale for Christmas

by Chrissie Manby

  ‘Hear, hear,’ the crowd mumbled.

  ‘So, let’s raise a glass to that. To the NEWTS and, specifically, to the cast and crew of Cinderella. You’ve all worked so hard. Three cheers to us. Hip hip …’

  ‘Hooray!’ the others responded.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Jon, stepping into panto mode. ‘I can’t hear you. Let’s do that again, shall we? Only this time let’s make it louder. Hip hip …’

  ‘Hooray!’ the others shouted gamely.

  ‘That’s better. And one more time for luck.’

  ‘Hip hip!’

  ‘Hooray!’

  Little Thea shouted loudest. She was throwing herself into the spirit of the event. This was the first time she had been allowed to stay up to welcome in the New Year and she was determined to make the most of it.

  ‘Thank you.’ Jon chinked his glass against those of the people standing nearest. ‘Thank you. It has been the greatest pleasure to work with you all. Even you two.’ He tipped his glass towards the Giggle Twins.

  Kirsty allowed herself a small smile as she thought of the bitching Jon had done about pretty much every single person in the room. It was all forgotten now.

  ‘I almost wish that I could stay around to join you all again on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.’ That was the show the NEWTS had planned for the spring. Trevor Fernlea had already expressed his interest in playing the Dick Van Dyke part – Caractacus Potts. Jon continued, ‘But tonight I’ve some good news of my own to share.’

  Kirsty perked up at that. Good news? What was Jon about to announce and why didn’t she know already?

  ‘As some of you know,’ Jon continued. ‘I recently went to London to interview for an important new job. Well, the good news is, I got it. From the middle of January, I will be directing the Dubai Shakespeare Society in a touring production of Richard III.’

  There was a murmur of astonishment. Not least from Kirsty. Why hadn’t he told her? And why was he telling her now, in front of everybody, when he must know that this news had all sorts of implications for both of them? Surely she should have been told first?

  It was too late. Led by Annette, the rest of the party raised a toast to Jon. There was another round of cheers, even louder than before. And then he was swallowed up by all the people who wanted to give him their congratulations and find out more about the job and, more importantly, whether there might be space for a couple of NEWTS on the cast. The idea of a winter in the sun was very appealing in the depths of a Newbay winter.

  ‘Congratulations,’ said Ben. Lauren had left his side to add her voice to the choir of people singing for the promise of a cheap holiday.

  ‘To me?’ Kirsty pointed at her chest.

  ‘Yes. You’ll be getting out of Newbay for the worst of the winter. Soaking up the sun.’

  ‘I’m not sure that I will actually,’ said Kirsty. She found that she was trying not to cry. ‘Sorry, Ben. I’ve got to go. Too much champagne.’

  She made as if she was going to the bathroom but, as soon as she was out of Ben’s sight, she ran out into the garden, like Cinderella fleeing before her dress turns back to rags.

  ‘It’s not such a big deal,’ said Jon when she caught up with him. ‘You actually found out pretty much as soon as I did. I got a text around ten o’clock.’

  ‘Ten o’clock on New Year’s Eve?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t know why it came through so late. Maybe it was sent earlier. You know how rubbish the signal is here in Newbay.’

  That was true. There was more mobile signal in the middle of the Kalahari than there was in some parts of Devon.

  ‘But why didn’t you just take me into a corner and tell me first? Privately.’

  ‘Maybe I would have done if you weren’t too busy talking to Buttons.’

  Kirsty opened her mouth to protest. She had shared just a couple of words with Ben, after Jon made the announcement. Jon was talking rubbish. On the contrary, she had barely said a word to Jon all evening because it seemed to her that every time she got near him, he was deep in conversation with someone else.

  ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ Jon said dramatically. ‘Why should I expect you to be happy for me and want to toast my success like everyone else here tonight? You’re only my girlfriend. Why should I expect you to be supportive?’

  There it was. Somehow, Jon had managed to make it Kirsty who was at fault for not jumping up and down with glee.

  ‘You know this affects both of us,’ she said quietly. ‘I gave up a season in the Caribbean to come here. Because I thought we were making plans for the future together.’

  ‘I am taking this job for our future.’

  ‘Expecting me to get another secretarial job so I can follow you? What kind of partnership is it we’ve got, Jon?’

  But Kirsty didn’t have a chance to continue with her argument because all of a sudden, though the night seemed to have been inching past, it was midnight. Annette had turned on the enormous wide-screen television above the fireplace so that they could all count down with Big Ben.

  ‘Come on, everybody!’ Annette opened the French windows from her sitting room and called out to Jon and Kirsty in particular. ‘Make sure you’ve got something in your glasses. It’s time to wish the old year goodbye! And good riddance, eh?’

  Jon took Kirsty by the hand and practically pulled her back inside.

  Kirsty slipped out into the garden again while everyone was still greeting the New Year with kisses and toasts. Reflexively, she checked her phone and was astonished to see three missed calls from her dad. And a text.

  ‘India missing,’ was what the text said. ‘Is she with you?’

  Kirsty immediately called her father.

  ‘Dad. What’s happening?’

  ‘India isn’t with you?’

  ‘No. Of course not. What’s going on?’

  ‘She walked out of the house this morning. She’s taken a bag but she left her phone. We’ve been looking for her everywhere. She isn’t with any of her friends.’

  ‘Have you talked to the police?’

  ‘Of course. But she’s sixteen. She’s nearly an adult. They just advised us to wait.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. What can I do to help?’

  ‘We’ve been going from house to house in the village. We’re heading into town to do the same. If you could just keep an eye out for her at your end and let us know if you hear anything.’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘I just hope she’s on her way to you. She might be. She thinks the world of you, you know.’

  The words pricked Kirsty’s heart.

  ‘She’ll be all right, Dad. I know she will.’

  Kirsty went back into the party and told Jon she needed to leave at once.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Jon told his fellow NEWTS what was going on, of course. He didn’t want anyone to think that he and Kirsty were leaving the party because they were having a domestic about Dubai.

  ‘It’s her little sister,’ he said to Annette and Trevor Fernlea. ‘They’re very close so she might be on her way here.’

  ‘What does she look like?’ Trevor asked. ‘In case one of us comes across her?’

  Jon had no idea so he bluffed. ‘A bit like Kirsty, I suppose.’

  Only Ben knew otherwise. Kirsty had shown him photographs of India on her iPhone and thus he knew that the sisters did not resemble each other in the least. They both took after their mothers. While Kirsty was tall, statuesque and blonde, India was a willowy brunette like her mum, Linzi. While Kirsty loved to dress in bright colours, India favoured all black, accessorised with skulls.

  And Kirsty loved her. The news that India had gone missing was not just an inconvenience for Kirsty, Ben knew. She must be going out of her mind with worry. Sure, as Jon said, India was probably just being dramatic. She was a teenager. She’d almost certainly be found at a friend’s house eventually. But Ben knew that Kirsty’s thoughts would be racing towards the worst possible scenario.
r />   Ben followed Jon and the others out to the driveway of Annette’s house where a taxi was waiting. Kirsty was already getting inside.

  ‘Let us know when she turns up,’ Annette called. ‘And if there’s anything we can do …’

  Ben wrapped his arms around Thea. The news that a teenager was missing was both exciting and frightening to her.

  ‘Will Kirsty’s sister be OK?’ Thea asked her dad.

  ‘Of course she will,’ said Ben.

  He prayed that would be the case.

  With Jon and Kirsty gone in the taxi, the rest of the partygoers drifted back inside. There wasn’t a lot they could do other than wait for news. India and her parents lived more than an hour away from Newbay. There wasn’t much point starting a house-to-house search on Annette’s street. Why would India have headed there? So Annette’s hired butler refilled the glasses and her remaining guests set to gossiping about the missing teen, about Kirsty and about Jon.

  ‘So he’s really going to Dubai?’

  ‘Kirsty didn’t look too happy about it,’ said Andrew Giggle.

  ‘I suppose it’s going to be make or break for those two,’ Annette observed. And then she cast a sidelong look at Ben.

  Ben didn’t want to hang around to listen to any speculation on whether Kirsty would follow Jon to the Middle East. Besides, Thea was flagging. It was way past her usual bedtime. If Ben didn’t take her home now, she would be grumpy from tiredness in the morning. So Ben and Thea said their ‘thank-yous’ to Annette and set out for home.

  They were going to walk. Annette’s house was just ten minutes from Ben and Thea’s and it was downhill all the way on the return leg. Ben was glad of the fresh air and he hoped a little exercise would help Thea to sleep better. She was completely wired after her night out. She and her little friends had been on the dance floor from the moment the party started.

  ‘Is it far, Daddy?’ Thea asked before they even got to the end of Annette’s street.

  ‘It’s just past the theatre,’ Ben said.

  In fact, the NEWTS theatre marked the halfway point. A huge banner announcing ‘Cinderella’ hung from the car park fence, which was strung with festive fairy lights as every year.

  ‘Dad,’ said Thea as they drew close. ‘Do you think we’d see the ghost if we went in the theatre now?’

  ‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ said Ben.

  ‘Glynis the piano lady said there is. She saw it. It’s a choir boy dressed in a long red tunic with a frilly white collar.’

  ‘Well, I’m pretty sure Methodist choirboys don’t dress like that,’ said Ben. ‘Glynis was pulling your leg.’

  ‘But, Dad …Wait!’

  Suddenly, Thea froze. She was staring to the side of the theatre, towards the door which had once led to the church’s vestry but now led straight backstage.

  ‘It’s there!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The ghost!’

  Ben held Thea’s hand tightly as he too saw a flash of red disappearing round the back of the building.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Ben felt his heart beat quicken. He wasn’t sure what he had seen. Maybe it was something spooky. He wasn’t about to tell Thea that though.

  ‘I don’t think it’s a ghost, Thea. It’s probably teenagers messing around,’ he said.

  ‘Daddy, it was the ghost.’

  ‘There’s really no such thing.’

  ‘But Glynis said—’

  ‘Glynis was having a joke. Come on.’

  Thea didn’t want to keep walking. She was staring into the gloom. Just then, Trevor Fernlea and Cynthia pulled up to the kerb behind them. Trevor wound down his window.

  ‘You sure we can’t drop you two off on our way home, Ben? It’s bloody cold out tonight.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you but … Actually, Trevor. Can I have a word?’

  Ben asked Trevor if Thea could sit in the car with Cynthia while Trevor joined him to make sure that no one had broken into the theatre.

  ‘We saw a ghost,’ Thea told Cynthia.

  ‘We saw no such thing,’ said Ben firmly.

  ‘Whatever you saw, I’m ready,’ said Trevor. He got a large torch out of the car glove compartment. ‘No one’s vandalising the NEWTS’ theatre on my watch, I can tell you.’

  ‘Be careful, Trevor. For goodness’ sake,’ said Cynthia. ‘I’ve got the bridge club coming over for our New Year lunch tomorrow. The last thing I want is to have you hanging around the house because you broke your leg chasing a burglar.’

  ‘I was in the army,’ Trevor reminded her.

  ‘You did National Service,’ Cynthia corrected him. Ben made a mental note to remember that. The NEWTS were still trying to work out Trevor’s age. National Service had to place him in his eighties!

  ‘We’re not going to get into any trouble,’ Ben promised Cynthia. ‘If someone has broken in, we’re not going to follow them. We’ll call the police right away. We just need to check the place is secure.’

  ‘But if it’s a ghost?’ Thea persisted.

  ‘It’s not a ghost,’ said Ben.

  ‘It might be,’ said Cynthia. Unhelpfully. ‘Glynis told me she saw the spirit of a choirboy in a long red cloak and it sounds as if he was heading towards the vestry.’

  Ben nodded. ‘Thanks, Cynth. That’s great.’

  Together with Trevor, who seemed unduly excited at the prospect of catching an intruder, Ben set off towards the back of the theatre. Though he knew it well, it looked very different on a night like this, all shut up and lonely and dark. It was easy to see why someone might think it was haunted. It loomed over them. The buttresses cast deep shadows where anything might hide.

  ‘I’m not sure this is a good idea …’ Ben began.

  ‘Sssh!’

  As they got closer to the spot where Ben had seen the flash of red, Trevor put his finger to his lips. Ben was more inclined to be noisy, to give the trespassers a chance to bugger off without the need for confrontation. He was beginning to wish he hadn’t got Trevor involved but had just called the police and let them deal with everything instead. Was he really going to tackle a burglar with no back-up but a geriatric geography teacher?

  To make things worse, the battery in Trevor’s torch was running low. And then it ran out altogether. Once they got around the back of the building, away from the street lights, they could hardly see a thing.

  ‘Trevor, take care,’ Ben whispered. It was a deliberately loud whisper.

  Too late.

  ‘What the?’

  Trevor went flying.

  Ben had no idea what Trevor had fallen over but he landed softly.

  On top of the intruder. Or a ghost.

  ‘Get thee behind me, Satan!’ Trevor yelled.

  Ben started yelling too. As Trevor scrambled to get upright and Ben lit the scene with his iPhone, he was confronted by a grinning skull.

  ‘Get off me!’ the death’s head protested.

  Trevor panicked and kept falling back down. Ben grabbed Trevor round the waist and heaved him upwards. Meanwhile the hooded skeleton scrambled upright and flattened itself against the wall.

  ‘I warn you,’ said Trevor, adopting a karate stance. ‘I’m army trained.’

  ‘Our Father, who art in heaven,’ Ben started muttering. What had they found?

  ‘I’m just a kid,’ the intruder bleated.

  The trespasser was no burglar. It was a teenage girl. She was wearing a hoodie with a skull painted onto the back of the hood. They could see that clearly now she turned towards them. Her own face was small and pale and no more frightening than a baby bird.

  ‘India?’ Ben asked.

  ‘It’s OK, Trevor. You can let her go. It’s Kirsty’s little sister.’

  ‘How do you know who I am?’ India asked.

  ‘She told me all about you.’

  ‘But what are you doing here, young lady?’ Trevor asked. ‘Half of Devon is on the lookout for you tonight.’

  Trevor’s
impression of someone being stern was about as good as his impression of a twenty-something when he played Mercutio – which was why, when working as a teacher, he’d often had to resort to throwing board rubbers at his pupils – but India still burst into tears.

  ‘Hey. Come on,’ said Ben, taking off his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. Her skull-painted hoodie was more decorative than useful. ‘It’s not that bad. You’re safe now. And we’re going to take you to your sister. I’m Ben, by the way,’ he added.

  ‘You’re Buttons,’ India said, as her face broke into a smile. ‘Kirsty told me all about you.’

  Ben and Trevor walked India back to Trevor’s car. Thea pressed her nose against the car window, eager to see her ghost. If she was disappointed to see that the ghost was just an ordinary girl, she was thrilled to discover it was Kirsty’s sister. A real live teenager was almost as exotic as a ghost to little Thea.

  ‘You ran away from home!’ Thea breathed in awe.

  ‘And you’ve caused everybody a great deal of worry,’ said Cynthia, as if she wasn’t secretly thrilled that the whole affair would make a very good anecdote for her bridge club.

  Ben dialled Kirsty’s number and handed the phone over to India before Kirsty could pick up.

  ‘Ben?’ he heard Kirsty answer.

  ‘It’s India. Ben found me. He’s bringing me over to yours.’

  Kirsty was waiting by the door when Ben brought her little sister home.

  ‘Oh, you silly thing!’ Kirsty exclaimed as she wrapped India in her arms. ‘Everyone has been going crazy.’

  ‘Have you called Dad?’

  ‘Of course I have.’

  Ben hovered on the doorstep. Trevor, Cynthia and Thea were in the car, craning to see what was going on.

  ‘Thank you, Ben,’ said Kirsty.

  ‘It was Trevor who tripped over her bag,’ Ben said. ‘And Thea who spotted her sneaking round the back of the theatre in the first place. I would have walked straight past.’

  ‘But Ben was really kind to me,’ said India. She shrugged off his coat and handed it back to him.

  It was so like Ben to try to pass on the credit for his good deeds to others, Kirsty thought.