Chapter Thirty

1911

They walked to church in the village, as was traditional, but Laurie couldn’t engineer walking there with Viola — Ruan Teague led the party holding a lantern and Laurie was bringing up the rear with a lantern as well.

Also, Viola was flanked by her brother and her sister, and, besides, he needed to speak to Fabian. So the two men walked together, their feet crunching in the snow, which had come down thicker and faster, and was now, most definitely, settling on the ground.

‘Whereabouts will you be sitting?’ asked Fabian, the tip of his cigarette glowing red in the darkness.

‘I’m going at the back of the church,’ Laurie said. ‘I’ll hang back and the rest of them can have the family pews. It will be utter chaos trying to get everyone settled, so nobody will realise I’m missing.’ He grinned at his friend and Fabian laughed.

‘You should try that expression more often,’ Fabian told him. ‘Then perhaps people might smile back at you. Some people in particular.’

‘She’s actually smiled at me a couple of times tonight,’ replied Laurie. ‘That’s an improvement.’

‘Let’s see if she’s still smiling after midnight mass,’ said Fabian.

‘Oh, dear Lord. I hope so.’ Laurie wasn’t quite sure what he would do if she wasn’t.

* * *

They reached the church at Pencradoc village and filed into the old building to join the villagers. Viola was entranced by the candles and the soft music that welcomed them in, and the greenery that wreathed the pillars and the old plaques on the wall. One caught her eye: Miss Adeline Spencer, Faithful Nurse and Companion .

Viola wondered just who Miss Adeline Spencer had been the faithful nurse and companion to, and hoped the old lady was looking down on the church that evening and enjoying seeing the village come together to celebrate Christmas, as Viola was sure she had done for many years with her charges. Actually . . . Viola looked around for Laurie — it would be an excellent excuse to ask him who the lady was, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Oh. One moment. He was right at the back of the church, standing up and letting someone squeeze in past him, so he was right on the end of a pew. He and Elsie’s friend Fabian exchanged a few words, then, deliberately, it seemed, he didn’t look at the front of the church where his family and friends were, not even to wave at them. Instead, he studied the order of service, that scowl back on his face, and Fabian strolled down the aisle instead.

Viola frowned. She had no idea why on earth Laurie had chosen to stay all the way up there. She calculated that if they all shuffled along this pew, he could just as easily squeeze onto the end here .

‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ asked Fabian instead, who was the actual person approaching the pew. ‘Laurie said he preferred to stay at the back, out of the way, and sent me down here. No idea why.’

‘That makes two of us, then,’ Viola muttered wryly. But she nodded, and some of the shine was taken off the evening. She had, herself, deliberately hung back to see if she could possibly, at all, sit next to Laurie. And clearly that had not worked in the slightest.

So much for her secret Christmas wishes.

But she didn’t have too much time to dwell on that fact, because the music had changed from a gentle background music to a strong melody that was clearly intended to grab everyone’s attention. And so the service began.

Viola spent the next half hour or so surrounded by, it seemed, every other member of Laurie’s family, listening to Enyon and Arthur’s lusty, out-of-tune singing as they tried to outdo one another, the sweet baritone of Clem and the beautiful voices of Elsie, Medora and Isolde, harmonising perfectly.

She had no idea what Laurie’s singing voice sounded like . . . because he was at the other end of the church!

Ugh.

However, she tried to put it aside because the vicar was clearing his throat and preparing to launch into his sermon.

It was just as the short sermon was drawing to a close (it had been largely about Christmas and loving everyone as Mary and Joseph had loved Baby Jesus) and they were standing up to sing “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” — which was, oddly, she realised as the organist began to play, a little different to the version she knew from home — when she felt a light touch on her hand.

She looked up at Fabian, who was smiling at her. ‘Someone said to give you this,’ he whispered, handing over a folded piece of paper. ‘I can’t tell you who. So ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.’ Then he winked at her and went back to singing the carol, and she unfolded the note.

For the prompt attention of Miss Viola Arthur. Come to Rose’s garden at midnight on Christmas Eve, it said. Your carriage awaits .

She read it and re-read it, and then realised there was something fundamentally wrong with it.

She had no clue how to get to Rose’s garden. Or where the heck she was expected to get a carriage at almost midnight on Christmas Eve!

She spun around, her suspicions about the author of the note quite possibly confirmed when she saw that Laurie was missing from his space in the church.

‘Fabian!’ she whispered, not quite sure what to think or say. All she knew was that her heart was pounding in her chest and she wanted to run out of the church and find her way to Rose’s garden just as quickly as she could. ‘How do I get to this place? And how do I find the carriage?’ She thrust the note at him and he smiled.

He leaned down and whispered. ‘Don’t worry — I know exactly where to find one. Apparently, the vicar always finishes his service a good half hour before midnight, so you’ve plenty of time.’

Viola realised the service was indeed coming to an end and the vicar was beaming around and blessing everyone and wishing them a Merry Christmas. She responded just as loudly as everyone else in the congregation and they began filing out.

As she left the church, the clock tower said it was eleven thirty. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to midnight, thirty minutes to Christmas Day.

And, in the time they had been in the church, even more snow had fallen.

‘Come on,’ Fabian said to Viola, taking her arm. ‘I believe there may be a carriage just along here.’

They peeled away from the group, Zennor and Ruan Teague remonstrating with their youngest boys for throwing snowballs at one another, and slipped down a lane by the side of the church.

Sure enough, there was a carriage, the driver huddled in a big overcoat, his hat pulled down over his ears and a huge scarf wrapped around him. Snowflakes were settling on his hat and his collar, and, by the way he was sitting, Viola could tell he wasn’t the happiest of people to be out there that night. His horse didn’t look much happier, but at least that too had a huge blanket covering it.

‘Poor man!’ she said to Fabian, aghast. ‘He’s had to come out for me?’

‘I suspect he just did what he was paid to do,’ replied Fabian with a shrug. ‘But yes — one can think of better things to do in the snow.’ He opened the door for her and helped her up the step. ‘However, this was all done with the very best of intentions, I can assure you. Merry Christmas, Viola!’ he said, and shut the door. Then he rapped on the side of the coach and Viola felt the thing lurch as they pulled away — and headed towards this mysterious Rose’s garden, wherever that may be.