Page 1 of Murder in the Winter Woods
1
Sean and Julia followed the ringing of a handbell and the sound of a deep, full voice intoning: ‘Hear ye, hear ye…All citizens of Hayfield and beyond are invited to gather in the town square…’
‘That’s the town crier you can hear,’ said Sean.
‘I thought town criers went out of business with the advent of the radio. If not the printing press.’ Julia smiled, aware that she might be showing her age by even remembering radios and printing presses. No doubt the younger folk might roll their eyes at her, but Sean wouldn’t.
‘There are quite a few who do ceremonial sort of things, and big community events like this one.’ His smile crinkled his face, in the way that made Julia want to hire a town crier of her own, to announce what a fine man she had found herself, so unexpectedly, this second time around.
‘I must say, he’s got the voice for it, and it’s much nicer than an announcement over a loudspeaker.’
The town square was full to bursting with people and with good cheer. It seemed half of the inhabitants of the Cotswolds, as well as a good number of out-of-towners, had come to Hayfield for the switching on of the village Christmas lights. Julia was pleased they’d decided against bringing the dogs.
They’d arranged to meet Sean’s son Jono and his girlfriend, Laine, but Julia doubted whether they would ever find the young couple in the crush. She was just about to say as much to Sean, when they appeared in front of them. Jono was in his usual attire – black jeans, grey (perhaps previously black) pullover, large shapeless over-garment, boots – but Laine had dressed up for the occasion. She wore fitted green corduroy trousers and a thick, Christmas-themed jumper patterned with red reindeer leaping over a white background. The cuffs were ringed with green holly leaves. Silver baubles secured her dark hair in two high pigtails, and caught the last of the evening light. Julia had dressed somewhere between the two, in jeans and a Christmas-ish Fair Isle jersey, with a warm jacket over. The temperature was dropping, along with the sun, and she was pleased to have the layers.
‘Isn’t this fun?’ said Laine. ‘I do love Christmas. It’s so cheerful, isn’t it?’
‘Is it always this busy?’ Jono asked, sounding slightly anxious. It was Julia’s first time at the event, too, and she’d wondered the same thing. Like Jono, she had limited capacity for crowds and hoped this one would thin out a bit once the formalities were over.
‘I haven’t been for a year or two,’ said Sean. ‘It was a much more modest affair last time I attended, but then again, that was around the time that I had a full head of hair and perfect eyesight.’ Julia ruffled his hair which was, in fact, still quite thick and well-distributed. ‘It used to be more of a local event, but these days people come from all over,’ he said.
‘Well, it’s not every day you get to hear an actual town crier,’ Julia said. She led the little group to the edge of the crowd, closer to the source of the calls, and stood on tiptoes to get a better look at the fellow who was ringing the bell and summoning the punters. Fortunately, he was standing on a small platform andthus easily visible. With him was the mayor for Hayfield, Colin Postlethwaite; a small woman in a sparkly dress; and a couple of other people who looked like local dignitaries or officials.
The town crier was perfect, just perfect. Rotund and bearded and red-cheeked, and all kitted out in a red and gold coat, breeches, boots. On his head, a tricorne hat. Julia was delighted: ‘Oh, look at him! He’s just the man for the job, isn’t he? Isn’t it lovely when something or someone exactly matches all your expectations?’
Before anyone could answer, the town crier began to announce the order of proceedings. There would be a brief introduction from the mayor of Hayfield, and then the main event – the turning on of the Christmas tree lights, followed by all the other lights in the village. Father Christmas would be in his grotto and looked forward to seeing any children who cared to visit.
Mayor Postlethwaite knew his audience well, and kept it snappy. After a few thank yous to the many worker elves who had made the event happen, he said, ‘I am sure you are eager to see the Christmas lights go on and to get to the Christmas market and food stalls…’ A small cheer went up. ‘To help me, I’ve got a special celebrity guest…’ A dramatic drumroll emitted from the speakers…‘Maggie Pringle from the hit television show,Strictly Come Baking!’ At that, a louder cheer went up.
The tiny sparkly woman, who looked as if she’d never eaten a baked item in her life, advanced on the microphone. The mayor handed her something that looked like a television remote, which she waved around as she addressed the crowd.
‘Well hello, Hayfield and surrounds, and merry Christmas season!’ she said, in a voice that rivalled the town crier’s in its volume. The sound system gave a shriek, as if in surprise, or perhaps pain. ‘Oops, sorry,’ she said, at more modest decibels. The crowd cheered again, good-naturedly.
‘Maggie, please do the honours and turn on the festive lights!’
A little boy in front of Julia leapt up and down, the pointed elfin ears attached to his head bobbing in eager anticipation.
‘Come on, everyone, count me down!’
The crowd didn’t need further encouragement. Together, they roared:
‘Three…Two…’ And on the count of ‘…ONE!’ Maggie hit the switch and the huge Christmas tree in the centre of the square lit up, to a communal, ‘Oooooh!’ Baubles and tinsel sparkled, and a big golden star flashed on top.
Moments later, she hit the switch again and the whole village was ablaze with twinkling light. Every shopfront was festooned with strings of fairy lights. More lights picked out the outlines of the little trees that lined the square. The roads leading into the square were strung across with lights and baubles.
The elf boy shrieked in astonishment and delight. ‘Mamma, look!’ His chubby little finger stabbed the air, pointing first at the reindeers pulling Father Christmas’s sled, then at the snowmen outlined on the stationery shop, then towards the glittering curtain of lights hanging on the front of the church. Overwhelmed by the sheer number of magnificent things, he put his hand down and just sighed.
‘What a sight. Oh, I do love Christmas,’ said Laine, snuggling happily into Jono’s shoulder. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Ah, well, this is very nice,’ Jono said. ‘Let’s go and have a look around.’
‘Meet back here in an hour, shall we?’ said Sean. ‘We can find a place to sit and have something to eat. My treat.’ His face was bathed in reflected light, red on one side, green on the other, and over it all was spread a gentle smile. Julia felt a stab of love for him, this kind man she’d fallen for so unexpectedly. She put her arm through his. ‘Good idea. Come on, let’s explore.’
Sean and Julia wound their way through the crowd, which had spread and thinned out, as people walked the village. The two of them were on no particular mission or schedule. They strolled arm in arm, stopping every now and then to admire a particular display. A fellow came by on stilts, which seemed very brave given the throng. ‘That there’s an orthopaedic disaster waiting to happen,’ muttered Sean grimly.
‘He looks steady enough. I reckon he’s done it before.’ The chap tipped his red bowler hat at Julia and loped on.
The smell of roasting chestnuts drew them to the market. ‘Oh, that smell reminds me of my childhood,’ said Julia. ‘Every year, we would go into London for the Christmas pantomime, and Daddy would buy us a little paper bag of chestnuts from the seller.’
