Page 98 of The Christmas Invitation
‘Invoking something, I expect.’ A good outcome for this talk I hoped – and dreaded – to have with Lex, perhaps?
River was in the kitchen again, writing down a recipe for Den, by the time we ended the sitting and went to find something to eat.
Teddy proudly displayed the surprise he’d cooked up with Den – cupcakes topped with edible Santa and snowman decorations – and we were allowed one each.
Henry came in and suggested to River that they take Lass and walk over to Underhill to check on the costumes, and he could teach him his lines on the way.
‘Perhaps on the way back, I might call in at Preciousss, to catch up with Moonflower,’ said River. ‘What about you, Meg? Would you like some fresh air?’
‘No, thank you, I’m going to the conservatory again for a bit,’ I said, which I did, working on the rainforest of foliage in the background of Tottie’s portrait.
I’d already sketched in her head: she had the sort of plump, round face that seemed to have sunk in the middle around the nose, like a slightly deflated sponge cake.
Then I went up to my turret and read another of Clara’s books, to which I was becoming addicted. In fact, I was so engrossed that I entirely missed Lex’s arrival. When Teddy came to call me down, I was surprised to see him there, seated next to River on one of the sofas, deeply engaged in some discussion.
Tea was early, but fairly substantial today, since the ceremony would make dinner extremely late.
There was an extra layer of anticipation in the room added to that already sparked by the countdown to Christmas Day.
Soon it started to go dark and it was time for the advance party of players, Tottie and River, to leave for Underhill. Lex was going to drive them over, and then go up on the quad biketo light the fire and torches, taking River, in his Old Winter guise, with him.
I made sure River had several layers of warm clothing on beneath his silver lamé before I let him go out into the cold: he could be careless about these things and he wasn’t as young as he was.
28
Headlong
Once the advance party had left, the rest of us began to get kitted out for the cold weather, before piling into Clara’s Range Rover, which was a bit of a squeeze, though of course, coming home, we’d have Lex’s pick-up too.
There were already a few vehicles parked along the road below the hill and a group of people had gathered, ready for the ascent. In fact, the number of Starstone Edge inhabitants there that I hadn’t yet met was a surprise, but I supposed some of them were from the farms and outlying cottages.
As we got out to join them, a bonfire suddenly burst into life high on the hill, just below the Stone, and there was a ragged cheer. A few moments later, the Stone itself was ringed in fire.
‘See up there, Meg? The performers are almost at the ledge,’ said Clara, pointing, and I noticed for the first time the bobbing line of torchlight ascending the hill.
Sybil, in a dark blue Puffa jacket and ski trousers, materialized from the darkness of the Underhill drive.
‘Come on, we’d better get going,’ she urged us, and we followed the stream of people heading slowly up the path, whichwas mercifully clear of snow, though there were great patches of it on the hillside.
The route was wide and zigzagged to and fro, so that the gradient was never very steep. I found myself next to Flower and Bilbo, who had the baby inside his padded coat. You couldn’t see anything of her, except a knitted hat and a bit of cheek and nose. Apart from Teddy, who was walking ahead with Clara and Henry, I didn’t see any other children.
The path opened out just below the plateau and Lex was waiting there by the quad bike to give Sybil the keys.
‘Sybil will want to go down ahead of the rest of us, to make sure everything’s ready for the Gathering,’ Henry explained.
‘Teddy, I’m relying on you to pull me up this last stretch of hill,’ Clara told him, as he tugged impatiently at her hand.
‘Come along, everyone. They’ll start in a minute!’ urged Henry.
We gathered around the fire on the ledge below the Stone, sheltered from the wind by a half-circle of rocky outcrops, one of which held the deep fissure in which River was concealed. Henry warned me not to go beyond the white-painted boulders that ringed the other side, since there was a steep drop down.
‘Quiet!’ someone shouted, and then a faint drumming and chanting drew our attention upwards, to where the strange shapes of the performers had begun to circle the Starstone.
The flames from the torches seemed to leap, twirl and gesture with the figures, and snatches of words, borne by the breeze, floated down to us. They sounded like doggerel, and I remembered Tottie saying that’s what they were.
The tempo picked up and the figures gyrated, gestured and stamped faster and faster and faster, until it all came to a climax with a sudden great shout!
In the following silence, the audience turned as one and spread around the fire, their attention now all on the rock face at the back of the ledge, where Old Winter had appeared, ghost-like and startling in sparkling silver, as if covered with frost. He wore a gilded mistletoe crown on his long white hair and carried a tall staff twined with ivy. As he reached the firelight, his eyes gleamed an almost unearthly blue.
