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The streetlights dimmed at the same time as countless points of white light sprang into life around the square. Hundreds of simulated candles flickered along every eve and window ledge, their flames appearing to sway in the chill breeze. The building fronts were dotted with points of cooler white, creating the illusion of an unclouded night sky crowded with stars. A full moon wreathed in wisps of silver cloud was projected on the front of the church. The uneasy murmuring silenced as the crowd turned to take in the display.
“It’s moving,” Oliver whispered, his voice hushed with awe as the projected clouds appeared to drift away, leaving the moon shining and full on the front of the building.
Magnusson was gazing up with a smile on his full, tilting lips.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I give you a winter night in eighteenth-century York—cold but warm with welcome, dark but lit by love.” He gestured around the square “The stars and moon are true to their current positions in the sky above us and will move as they do. As you walk throughout the city, you will find constellations, planets and galaxies. The candles will burn down before dawn but tomorrow”—he smiled wider—“it all begins again. A very Merry Christmas to you all—and a Happy New Year.”
The clapping that broke out as he raised his hand was far more enthusiastic. The square filled with chatter. Phones were lifted to photograph the lights. Magnusson shook the hand of the woman on the stage and withdrew into the shadows.
“Come on, Uncle Jesse. I want to go see over there…”
Oliver was trying to scramble down Jesse’s body. He lowered his nephew to the floor but was unable to resist glancing back, trying to see if the haemophile was still there, in the dark, watching.
But Oliver tugged on his hand again, and he allowed himself to be dragged down Stonegate to follow the trail of flickering candles. Oliver squeaked in delight and pointed to where the sparkling band of the milky way shimmered over the closed-up shop fronts. He hustled them down Minster Gates toward the towering hulk of the Minster itself, asking ceaseless questions about the constellations that Jesse was only able to answer with the aid of Google and a Wi-Fi hotspot.
When they had completed a circuit of the moonlit, star-speckled Minster, weaving between the swelling crowds with increased difficulty, Jesse drew Oliver aside.
“It’s getting late, mate. Better get you home.”
“But I want to see if the moon’s moved!”
“It’ll be back tomorrow night,” Jesse said, tucking his chin into his threadbare scarf and wincing again at another missed call notification from his brother. “Come on, pal. Time to go.”
The crowds thinned as they walked toward the river. Oliver started to shiver, and Jesse picked up his pace, thinking to get Oliver back in the warmth as quickly as possible, even though he wasn’t keen to face the sort of welcome he guessed would be waiting for him at his brother’s house.
“What’s that?” Oliver stopped in his tracks and looked back up the deserted street.
“What waswhat?”
“Didn’t you hear that?”
Jesse heard it—a muffled cry, almost too quiet to hear.
Oliver pointed back the way they’d come. “I think it’s coming from over there.”
Jesse backtracked to the mouth of an alley. He could hear the traffic from the main road and the hoot of a boat on the river, but inside the alley was silent and dark.
Jesse knelt by Oliver. “I want you to stay here, okay, mate?”
“But what is it, Uncle Jesse?” Oliver whispered, his face crumpled with concern.
“I don’t know, but you’re going to stay here, yeah? Hold on to this railing, and don’t let go. I’ll be right back.”
Oliver nodded, pursing his lips, and Jesse squeezed his hand and crept into the alley.
“Hello?” he called. “Hey, is anyone there?”
Silence. Jesse took another step and spotted a pale shape in the shadows. A little girl sat against the wall with her knees drawn up and her face buried in her arms.
“Hey,” Jesse said, his heart going into his throat as he knelt next to her. “Hey there. Are you okay?”
She squeaked and curled into a tighter ball.
“Hey, love, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m not gonna hurt you. What are you doing here on your own, huh?”
The girl shook and clutched her arms tighter about herself. Jesse bit his lip and pulled out his phone to call the police then swore when he saw his battery had died.
“Hey, Olly,” he called. “Come here a sec, mate.” Oliver crept into view, his eyes intent as he spotted the girl. “Looks like this little lady’s lost. She’s scared. Can you tell her it’s okay?”
