Page 10 of Mistletoe and Mystery

‘We have! And you’re right – there’s a mountain of goodies on offer, but we had to use up so many ingredients in the larder because four of theFestive Feastguests have had to cancel at the last minute. Only two couples are enrolled on the Christmas cookery course this time. Look, over there next to the piano; that’s Leo Groves and his wife, Gina, and his business partner, Mike Sanderson and his wife, Marianne.’

Zach followed the direction of Millie’s eyes to where Gina and Marianne were sampling the mulled wine, their mouths stretching into a grimace when the high alcohol content hit the back of their throats. Mike rolled his eyes at his friends and took a sip too, then promptly descended into a coughing fit, his tortoise-shell glasses slipping from his face and blonde quiff quivering in the onslaught as Marianne gamely patted his back whilst trying to hold back a bout of giggles.

Leo, clearly the more sensible of the group, shook his head when Gina offered him her glass and instead selected a bottle of beer which he clutched to his chest as if his life depended on it. He certainly fit his name perfectly, thought Millie, as she took in his broad, rugby-honed shoulders, the tight auburn curls, and the bump on the bridge of his nose to indicate he had been in the wars – albeit on a sports pitch. He radiated self-assurance and Millie knew she would have no qualms choosing Leo Groves to act on her behalf should she ever find herself in the unfortunate position of having to instruct a solicitor.

‘Hey, you two! What are you doing loitering in here?’ called Tim through the doorway. ‘The ceremony is about to start!

‘Come on.’

Zach guided Millie to the village green where everyone and their dog had congregated, bundled into thick layers and the most diverse collection of woolly hats she had ever seen. Some sported the expected pom-poms, others a variety of animal ears with one elderly lady modelling a tall, pointed, multi-coloured unicorn horn that was the envy of several little girls who were staring up at the headgear in wide-eyed fascination.

The village brass band finished their somewhat off-key version ofDeck the Hallsto a smattering of appreciative applause, then struck up the first bars ofO Christmas Treeand a choir of schoolchildren began their well-rehearsed rendition of the traditional overture to the tree-lighting ceremony. Their young voices, so innocent, clear and full of hope and excitement for the approaching visit of Santa Claus, caused a lump to form in Millie’s throat.

Dragging her emotions back into their box, she continued her sweep of the gathering surrounding the mammoth tree and couldn’t help but smile. Enclosed by a white picket fence, the tree was magnificent, draped in strings of fairy lights awaiting the spark of life, and a necklace of tinsel with a gold star adorning its crown. However, Millie noticed that its branches were strangely devoid of decorations. A family of flashing reindeers provided the only source of light, apart from the lanterns the well-organised had brought with them and the tiny lights pinned to the top of the musician’s stands.

As the final bars of the carol melted into the night, Tim and Claudia stepped from the shadows and climbed onto a small makeshift platform to a raucous welcome of whoops and whistles. Millie laughed as the image on Tim’s Christmas sweater suddenly made complete sense. Claudia had removed her padded jacket to reveal the other half of the reindeer knitted onto the front of her own jumper – the head, the antlers, and the huge red pom-pom nose of Rudolph – which completed the animal when she stood next to her husband causing a trickle of laughter from the crowd.

‘Claudia and I would like to welcome everyone to the thirty-third Berryford tree-lighting ceremony. You will have noticed that this year’s tree is much larger than our previous trees. For obvious reasons, we wanted this night to be the best ever. Before I ask the winner of the school raffle to step up and turn on the lights, I just wanted to take this opportunity to say a few thank yous.’

Tim paused, his Adam’s apple working overtime, and Millie was surprised to hear a wobble in his voice. He had removed his hat and his hair stuck out in random tufts, made worse by his constant habit of running his fingers from root to tip.

‘First, my thanks to Martha Jones for her superb organisational skills. Once again, she has ensured that everything has gone according to plan for our annual celebration of Christmas cheer, even to the extent of ordering the weather gods to press the pause button on the snow we’ve been experiencing these last couple of days. Secondly, I want to thank everyone who has contributed to the wonderful spread waiting for us in the village hall, and the fabulous Berryford Band and the primary school choir for entertaining us with their amazing voices.’

There followed a crescendo of applause and stamping of feet in agreement.

‘Finally, Claudia and I just want to say a huge heartfelt thank you for all the support you have shown us both over the years – we couldn’t have done any of it without your help, your encouragement, and your fabulous produce. It means everything to us.’

Millie watched as Claudia moved over to take Tim’s hand and flick a tear from the side of her cheek. She was desperate to unravel the mystery of what was going on with Stonelea Manor because if this was Tim’s annual Christmas speech, it was more akin to a goodbye eulogy. She glanced up at Zach, and saw that his eyes were fixed on Tim, his jaw set, his expression serious. What was going on?

‘So, Happy Christmas everyone… and it gives me great pleasure to invite Sasha Dennison to help Claudia and I to switch on this year’s Christmas tree lights.’

Sasha’s grandparents led the beaming five-year-old onto the stage where she was endowed with a badge the size of a saucer depicting a snowman wearing a Santa hat. Tim stooped down to collect a weird looking contraption sporting a large round red button – clearly one of his inventions – and held it towards Sasha whose eyes were dancing with excitement at being selected to do the honours. She lowered her mittened hand with great glee and the tree’s lights sprang into life to a rumble of oohs and aahs.

The choir burst into song once more, their voices lifting into the air as they reached the high notes ofWe Wish You A Merry Christmas, whilst the crowd moved en masse to form an orderly queue around the perimeter of the picket fence.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Millie, clapping her hands to get some feeling into her fingers.

‘Well, I’m not sure whether you noticed, but the tree is naked!’ Zach laughed, his eyes crinkling attractively at the corners as he looked down at her, sending a pleasant zip of electricity through her veins.

‘Yes, I did think that was a bit strange.’

‘Well, that’s because as part of this weekend’s festivities, everyone either makes their own decoration, or choses one from their family’s collection that means something special to them, and hangs it on the tree as a dedication to someone they’ve lost this year and want to include in the celebration. Here, I thought you might like this.’

Zach reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a bundle of gold-flecked tissue paper, and handed it over to Millie, an unfathomable expression in his eyes.

‘What is it?’

‘Open it and see.’

She stared at him for a few seconds, her heart sending signals of anticipation cavorting around her chest as she wondered what the parcel contained. When they were in St Lucia, she had confided in Zach about the loss of her father when she was a teenager, and he obviously hadn’t forgotten – had even thought to supply her with a token of remembrance to hang on the village tree.

She swallowed down on her emotions as they peeked over the rim of their carefully crafted confinement, and gently peeled back the paper to reveal an intricately carved wooden star painted in silver and threaded with a bright red ribbon. A whoosh of gratitude rushed through her veins as an image of her father, laughing at one of Monique’s more outrageous Salsa costumes, floated across her mind’s eye and tears sparkled at her lower lashes.

‘Did you… did you make this yourself?’

‘I did.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she managed to whisper. ‘Thank you, Zach.’

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