Page 71 of A December to Remember
Star picked up the mantle and began explaining.
“So, traditionally people wassailed—sang and danced—around orchards to frighten off the bad spirits who caused bad harvests and to entice the good ones, who bring protection and plentiful crops. Kind of like a blessing ceremony with hot alcohol. For some communities, wassailing was more like caroling, going from door to door and singing and toasting the neighbors. But I think because Rowan Thorp was always a rural community, our ancestors probably did the former, to ensure a plentiful harvest.”
Simone lifted one eyebrow as though marginally impressed.
“I can see how that would make sense,” said Duncan. “It’s like hedging your bets.”
“Exactly,” agreed Star. “And you can get drunk while you’re doing it, so it’s a win-win. And also, why wouldn’t you? I mean, in the days before electricity when the winter nights must have seemed interminable, it would have been lovely to have a big party with singing and dancing and booze.”
“As a historian of sorts, I am very much looking forward to being immersed in my first pagan ritual.” Duncan looked genuinely excited.
“I’d be looking forward to it a lot more if we weren’t organizing it,” said Maggie glibly.
“Give us a list, and Star and I will go to the cash and carry and get a head start on provisions,” Simone said. It was evident that Maggie was beginning to spiral. “You go back to work and leave this with us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Maggie, there’s no point in us being here if you’re just going to keep doing everything by yourself.”
“Simone’s right. We’re not juggling jobs and kids andsexy grocers.” Star gave a wink. “Let us help you.”
Two hours later,having tapped Vanessa up for a chunk of cash from the solstice kitty, Star and Simone emerged from the sliding doors of the cash and carry pushing a flatbed trolley loaded with enough birdseed to feed all the robins in southeast England and enough mixed nuts to satisfy all the vegetarians in the same catchment.
When the boot was fully loaded, they started back toward Rowan Thorp.
“Evette called me to ask if I was serious about being a surrogate,” Star said.
“Did she? When?”
“Last night. She was worried that I was being flippant with your feelings.”
“Sorry. She can be overprotective.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad she is. It means she’s looking out for you and that makes me happy.”
“Who looks out for you?”
“Oh, I look out for myself. I am quite self-sufficient.”
They were tootling along behind a tractor they’d encountered almost as soon as they’d left the main roads. Simone was keeping her distance after a stone had flicked up out of one of its huge wheels and chipped the corner of her windscreen.
“Do you ever think about doing more with your life? You’re an intelligent woman. You could be anything you want to be.”
Star threw her arms up in exasperation. “I’m so sick of people saying that to me. It’s such a cliché, ‘you could be anything you want to be.’ How? I barely went to school. The knowledge I have doesn’t translate to a recognized education and doesn’t mean shit in an interview. In fact, it doesn’t even get you through the door. But all of that is beside the point because I don’t want that life.I want to live small and happy, I want to leave only the tiniest footprint on the world. Why isn’t that something to aspire to? My life goal is to feel contentment; to me that’s the only thing worth striving for.”
For once Simone didn’t argue with her. “You’re right. I am judging you through the same lens that I view myself. That’s the way I’m programmed. In my family, achievements were measured by certificates and qualifications that could be framed and quantified. Sometimes I think my mum studied art less for the love of it and more to conquer the enigma of it. ‘Contentment’ could only be achieved through accomplishment; anything less would simply be laziness.”
“But surely that’s relative, or at least dependent on your definition of ‘contentment.’ Dad was at his most content when he lived out of his van.”
“Our father was the reason my mum pushed me so hard. She was terrified I’d inherit his lackadaisical nature.”
“No chance of that.”
Simone laughed grimly.
“Whatever could have made Rene fall for Dad? I mean, I can totally see it with my mum—two stoned wanderers, makes sense. And even Lilibeth I can sort of see; she was older and lonely, and Dad was friendly. But your mum? What was that all about?”
“God only knows. I can only imagine that he must have talked her into bed.”
