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‘Oh, Honor, that was lovely!’ Avril cried as she approached her afterwards. ‘I couldn’t believe Merryn had such a big role.’
‘Thank you. That means a lot. The boys and girls worked so hard.’
‘As you did, I would imagine,’ Avril added shrewdly. ‘How did you get the little Key Stage One children to dance as so well?’ she asked, referring to their performance as stars. ‘They looked so cute wearing all black with those huge tinsel stars sewn on. Took me right back to when Merryn was that age. Although she wasn’t nearly so graceful.’
Honor rolled her eyes. ‘Hours of rehearsal. They made me so proud though. I take it you missed little Jaden picking his nose? What was I thinking of putting him right in the middle of the front row!’
They laughed and accepted the plastic cups of mulled wine being handed out.
Avril took a sip. ‘Ooh that’s nice.’
‘Mrs Arnold, our head teacher, makes it. She likes it on the strong side. Strictly for the adults. The children have got squash and biscuits in their classrooms as a treat.’
Avril looked around the school hall, thronging with staff and parents. The walls had been decorated with scenes from the nativity. One wall depicted very Dorset-looking rolling green hills complete with a flock of cotton wool sheep. Another had a town of white houses made from painted boxes, each with a flickering light glowing within. Even though the full hall lights had been switched back on, the magic the children had created remained. ‘I’m so glad we got Merryn in here, she’s loving it. It’s just the right size for a primary school I think, and I love the old-fashioned building. It’s completely traditional. It’s lovely having the classrooms radiating off this hall. Feels so cosy.’
‘The main part of the school is Victorian,’ Honor explained. ‘We’ve a couple of temporary classrooms in the playground until we get funding for an extension, but I’m glad you like it. It’s a wonderful place to work; it has a great family feel. I love it and Merryn is making a real contribution to class. She’s very bright.’
‘I couldn’t believe she was on stage so much. Trust her to be the angel who was nearly too late. Late to see the Angel Gabriel, too late to meet the three kings and only just in time to see the baby being born. Talk about typecasting.’
Honor laughed again. ‘She hadn’t got the main part originally, as she joined school well after we’d begun rehearsing, but poor old Lia broke her ankle skiing at half term so we had to recast. Merryn stepped in. She learned her lines incredibly quickly.’
‘Oh, so that’s what she was doing up in her room,’ Avril said, realisation dawning. ‘I thought she was reading out loud to herself.’
‘She must have a photographic memory as she nailed the lines within a couple of days.’
‘Yes, she probably has.’ Avril was about to add Kenan had had a photographic memory so Merryn had probably inherited it, but refused to blight the happy event with grief. Sometimes mourning was about faking it until you made it, but it worked. Her friend Suz was right. There was a lot to be said for putting on a brave face. Kenan would have been so proud to see his little girl shine as she had this evening. But, had he been alive, she reflected, they probably wouldn’t be in Lullbury Bay in the first place. They hadn’t had much in the way of plans for his retirement. They were going to wait until after Christmas and then think about it. She doubted his plans would have included moving to a little seaside town. He loved London and all it offered. He hadn’t missed Cornwall and the sea at all. But it was immaterial now. He’d been robbed of any retirement right on the cusp of it. He should be enjoying having some time to himself after dedicating his life to others. The cruelty and injustice of it all made her swallow sudden tears as they constricted her throat. She was sure Kenan was somewhere looking down on them. Unwilling to give in to emotion, the evening had been beyond touching as it was, she finished her drink.
‘Refill?’ It was Jago bearing a tray of more mulled wine. Putting it down on a table, he gave Avril a swift, hard hug.
‘Yes please,’ Avril picked up a cup and concentrated on it. ‘Just as well we can all walk home. Where have you been, Jago?’
‘Helping Tom get the donkey into its horsebox. I understand it lives at his sanctuary.’ He grinned at Honor. ‘I can’t decide if it was genius or reckless having a live donkey on stage.’
‘Mary was immaculately behaved.’
‘She was, she didn’t even drop the baby Jesus, but I was more worried about the donkey.’
Honor giggled into her wine. ‘Maryisthe donkey.’
‘Well, that’s just plain confusing, isn’t it?’ Jago smiled at her, and their eyes met. ‘I suppose she has Joseph at home?’
Honor compressed her lips, her vivid blue eyes merry. ‘No, sorry to shatter your illusions but he’s called Ivor. And I wouldn’t have dreamed of havinghimon stage. Far too frisky! Speaking of which, did you hear what happened to Morag and Elsie on Wednesday night?’
‘No, what?’
‘Tom lost them. He unshackled them, or whatever you call it, unhitched is it, from Santa’s sleigh.’ Honor’s nose wrinkled with the effort of coming up with the right term. ‘Someone had the bright idea of blasting out “Step into Christmas” on the Tannoy at top volume at that very moment and off they shot. Galloped along, if that’s what reindeer do–’
‘I’ll have to ask Merryn.’
‘Do that. She’s bound to know. They galloped along the prom, scattering the crowds.’
Jago began to laugh. ‘Oh no, are they still at large?’
Honor giggled. ‘No, thank goodness. He caught up with them in the public gardens. They’d crashed through the hedge onto the bowling green and were eating the grass!’ Her eyes began to stream with tears. ‘The chairman is apoplectic. He takes great pride in the quality of his green. Oh, I know I shouldn’t laugh but I can’t get the image of poor old Tom chasing them along the promenade.’
‘Obviously not Elton John fans. Shame, as Christmas music goes, I always quite liked that one.’
‘Me too.’ Honor was laughing without abandon now. ‘I’m so sorry, Jago, what must you think of me?’ she spluttered. ‘I’m not usually this cruel. It must be end-of-termitis or something.’
