‘Are you serious?’
‘If you’ll have me do one.’
Did he want to be advertising an evening with Blair Beckett?
‘Yes, we do,’ Ivy answered. ‘Tomorrow at 7, Blair. The community centre. Meet us there and we’ll flesh out all the details.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Blair smoothed his hair into place before stepping closer to Ivy. ‘Are you going to the wassail tonight?’
‘I am.’ Ivy twirled her hair in her fingers. ‘Are you?’
‘Yes,’ Blair said. ‘Shall we go together?’
‘Okay,’ Ivy said.
As Ivy and Blair arranged their date for the evening, Quinn couldn’t help but wish that it could be that simple for him and Noah.
* * *
Wassailing in Hay was almost as exciting as Christmas itself. The small town came alive with people gathering on the streets, clutching hot drinks and alcohol. Starting at the top of Castle Street, a group waited for Mari Lwyd and her companions to lead the way.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Noah said.
Floating like an ethereal spectre in front of them was a pale white horse’s skull, snapping its boned jaws together. Ribbons of red and green flowed from a white cloak, which trailed down to the snow-covered floor. The head turned left and right, staring at those gathered with green bauble eyes. A woman wearing a red scarf held Mari by a lead, guiding her around like a horse to its stable. Mari Lwyd approached Noah and Quinn and pretended to drink from Quinn’s coffee cup before snapping her jaws at Noah’s hands.
‘Woah,’ Noah gasped, looking alarmed.
His reaction only led to the Mari chasing him until she spotted another group and went to terrorise them instead.
‘There’s someone under there, isn’t there?’ Noah looked at the horse like it was a hard mathematical problem.
‘Her jaws are operated by someone with a pole under the cloak, yeah,’ Quinn said. ‘But that ruins the illusion.’
‘And what is the point in her?’
She wasn’t the only Mari. Two others joined the group, their handlers handing out sheets of paper.
Quinn took one from the nearest handler, but not before Mari bit into it and tried to run off with it. When Quinn got it back, Mari snapping, he showed Noah the Christmas carols on the paper.
‘She’s a winter thing,’ Quinn said. ‘An old tradition. Hay does it a little earlier. We sing these carols with her leading the way. Her point is that she demands entry to homes, and the person at the door sings back, and then we gain access to the homes.’
‘What happens when she gets inside?’ Noah asked, his eyes shifting to each Mari as if he were afraid of an attack.
‘She steals all the food and drink, chases the children. They all sing some more,’ Quinn said. ‘The usual.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve never heard of her.’
‘She comes alive this time of year,’ Quinn said. ‘Yule. She helps represent the Welsh New Year. Lately, a lot of towns like Hay have welcomed the tradition back. It’s beautiful to see.’
‘Where did she disappear to?’
Quinn thought for a moment. ‘I guess it comes from how the English tried to stamp us out. A lot of Welsh folk customs disappeared. She survived, though, and she’s making her comeback like that time Britney did Womanizer on The X Factor.’
‘Nowthatwas a comeback.’
‘She never left.’
The woman in the red scarf called to the audience that it was time to parade, and a nervous hush fell over the audience. They began their descent down Castle Street; the group singing Christmas carols, and the three Maris weaving through the crowd before scurrying off to nearby homes.
