“
What
about your meals Claire? Bonnie only gives breakfasts.”
“
Well
she said that’s what she has to do in the summer because she’s too
busy to do more, with people coming and going and having to clean
the rooms and wash all the sheets. But she said if I tell her ahead
of time when I’d like to eat in she’d make supper for me. She
sometimes visits her sister for a couple of days and I’d have to
eat elsewhere then, but otherwise I could eat with her. She’s a
very nice person.”
“
Well
that’s good. Of course you can always eat here or you can go to Big
End if you want a change. Do you have a car?” asked
Rose.
“
Yes.”
Claire told
them a little about herself: that she lived in Reading and worked
in a bank; about her Dad, then her husband dying and that she had
moved back to her parent’s home to look after her Mum. Now that she
had gone Claire thought it was time to start a new life. Small End
came to mind and she was exploring the idea of moving here. “So
that’s my life history. Now I’d like to eat something. I haven’t
eaten since breakfast and I’m famished.”
“
Me
too,” said Jack. Bob told them what was on the menu. Claire and
Rose chose the fish and chips and Jack the potpie. Bob went to the
bar and ordered, returning with a round of drinks for
everybody.
The place
became very crowded. When any of the villagers entered, Rose, who
was facing the door, told Claire a little about each one and the
others added other facts they thought might interest her.
“
Ah,
that’s enough!” Claire eventually said. “It’s interesting to hear
all this but I can’t remember all the names and details. Let’s
leave it until I come here to live.”
“
Yes of
course. We should have guessed it’d be too much at once. Sorry.”
Rose turned to Joe. “About the Christmas tree Joe. How about 2
o’clock?”
“
Okay.”
“
I’ll
give you a hand,” Bob added. “Do you want to come
Claire?”
“
Come to
what?”
“
To
collect the Christmas tree for the Community Centre. We cut one
from Joe’s farm. We’ve done that each year since we began giving
shows at Christmas.”
“
I’d
love to,” Claire replied.
“
Then
I’ll come for you about 1:45.”
Nancy arrived
with the food and as they ate they told Claire about the shows held
at Christmas, in the Spring and the Fall. “And now bus tours often
include them,” said Rose.
“
Are
they something special? Why do people want to come to see a village
show?” asked Claire.
“
The
local papers invariably give them excellent reviews,” said Rose.
“Plus we have a pub which offers suppers and a few shops to visit.
People like that kind of thing when they’re on a bus
tour.”
“
I see.
I don’t remember them from when I was here before.”
“
No,
we’ve only been doing the shows for a few years.”
Jane arrived
as Joe was picking up the plates to take back to the bar. “Hi
Jane,” said Joe. “This is Claire. Claire, this is my wife, Jane.
Claire’s staying at Bonnie’s for a while. Now, what do you want
love?”
“
Ah,
nothing Joe. Too tired to eat or drink. Been rehearsing and several
actors didn’t know all their lines, and the matinee’s next
Saturday! Well it’s often that way; they always do a good job in
the end.”
“
How
many times do you run it?” asked Claire.
“
Every
Thursday, Friday and Saturday evening, beginning after next
Saturday’s matinee. The last one’s the Friday before Christmas.
I’ll be exhausted by then. In fact I’m so tired now I’m going home.
Do you want to come Joe?”
“
Yes I’m
ready.”
“
We’re
off too,” Jack added. “Want to walk with us Claire?”
“
Yes.
I’ll see you tomorrow Bob. At 1:45?”
“
Yes
I’ll be there.”
They all left
the Crown after waving goodbye to Len. Everyone except Bob turned
right at the door; he turned left, rounded the corner and hurried
up the hill, shivering and thinking he’d not be so stupid next
time. It was winter after all.
The six
o’clock news woke Bob Sunday morning and after listening to that he
reviewed what he should do that day. Just the usual weekend things.
In the morning he’d tidy and dust the house and wash the sheets and
clothes. There was nothing to do in the garden, for his cabbages
and broccoli were already hanging from the rafters in the corner of
his workshop, enough to last him a couple of months. And in the
afternoon he’d help with the tree. Now what should he wear? A
sweater and an old jacket might be best, plus his old overcoat. No
point dirtying his good one. He’d look all right in that when he
called for Claire. She seemed a nice woman. It would be pleasant if
she came to live here, someone new, someone near his own age.
After a
breakfast of toast, marmalade and two mugs of tea he collected the
sheets and put them in the washing machine. He did a little dusting
then hung the damp sheets on the washing line. Even though it was
cold they should still dry by bedtime. He loaded the machine with
his dirty clothes and ran it again.
It was close
to ten o’clock by now and time for coffee. Two mugs, no sugar and
just two digestive biscuits, that’s all he usually allowed himself.
He hated the idea of putting on more weight. He carried the
cafeteria and milk bottle to his easy chair in the lounge, filled a
mug, sipped, munched and read another chapter of the novel he’d
borrowed from the library. This was one of the good times of each
day, one he enjoyed very much, particularly when he used to shared
them with Betty.
He warmed a
can of mushroom soup for lunch. That and salted crackers were all
he felt like eating. At 1:40 he put on his coat and walked to
Bonnie’s. Claire was sitting in the lounge when he arrived telling
Bonnie all about last night. Bonnie knew everybody Claire mentioned
and was happy to add extra details.
As they walked
to Joe’s farm Bob told Claire that Joe had inherited the farm from
his father and was a market gardener selling most of his produce to
the shops in Big End. “Howard, he’s Joe’s son, planted fifty small
Christmas trees at the back of the farm when he was fifteen and
added another fifty each spring for five years. Howard thought
they’d give him a nice little income when they matured but that
never happened; he became an accountant and now lives in
Bournemouth. Neither Joe nor Howard trimmed the trees so they’re a
bit misshapen. We pick the best we can find each year for the
Centre.”
Joe was in the
yard hitching a wagon to his tractor when they arrived. Rose and
Jack were watching him. “Now, who’s turn is it to cut the tree this
year?” asked Joe.
“
It’s my
turn,” said Bob, “but I’ll not use your chainsaw Joe. It’s too
finicky. Jack had a hard time starting it last year. Do you have a
Sweed saw?”
“
Of
course. I’ll get it.”
They sat on
edges of the wagon and Joe’s tractor pulled them to the small wood
formed by Howard’s Christmas trees. After searching for a while
they chose a tree about twenty feet high with only one slightly
misshapen side. Bob chopped a few branches from the bottom then he,
with Jack pulling on the opposite end of the saw, felled it. The
tree was loaded onto the wagon and Jack and Bob held it in place as
Joe drove them to the Community Centre.
Jane was
standing at the door when they arrived and told Joe that the wood
to mount the tree was under the stage, and where they’d find the
rope, nails and hammers. The men collected what they needed and
began work. While they were doing this Jane and Rose took Claire
into the hall where a young lady was singing accompanied by a
pianist. “The show Claire,” said Jane, “has two one-act comedies
(I’m in one of them); some songs by Teresa; a dance by the
elementary school children; and a skit written and acted by several
village teenagers. We also sell coffee, tea, soft drinks, biscuits,
cup cakes and slices of apple pie—cooked by the village women.
Money from all this is used to improve the village.”
“
What
kind of improvements?”
“
We buy
plants which we put in the plots in the park; we trim the edges,
buy stone and place it along the Tusset path; we buy benches and
shrubs, usually for the park; things like that,” said
Rose.
“
Much of
the money we’ve made goes into a special savings account to pay for
a new Community Centre,” Jane added. “This place isn’t big enough
to hold all the activities people are asking for. They want rooms
for clubs and classes and to play games in. And a cafeteria. So
we’re going to demolish the old railway station and build a bigger
centre there. The municipal authorities have approved our plans and
we hope to start in the spring.”
Claire was
intrigued by what she was hearing. “Is there anything I can do to
help while I’m here?” she asked Jane who appeared to be one of the
organisers.
“
Well
most things for the show have already been done or are being looked
after, though we could use another usher. Would you like to be
one?”
“
Yes,
gladly.”
It took an
hour for the men to erect, trim and cover the tree with Christmas
lights. Bob stood on the road when the tree was decorated and
thought it still looked bare. ‘A few bright balls and stars might
help,’ he thought. ‘I’ll make some tomorrow, the bird can wait.’ By
4:30 all the work was finished and Joe drove the tractor back to
the farm. Jack, Rose and Jane stayed to help in the Centre but
Claire said she must go back to Bonnie’s and make a phone call.
“
I’ll
walk there with you if you like,” said Bob.
“
All
right. Where do you live?”
“
Up the
hill at the crossroads towards the railway station. I’m in the
house that’s just before it.”
“
I
see.”
“
Would
you like to go to the Crown for a drink?”
“
No not
now, thanks.”
“
Okay.
What are your plans for next week?”
“
Explore
the village, revisit some of the places we used to go to and talk
to a couple of real estate agents in Big End to see if they know of
any cottages for sale. Would you like to come when I go there?
You’d know what roads to take and that’ll stop me from getting
lost. I’ll explore Small End tomorrow and go to Big End on Tuesday.
That’s the day you could help.”
“
I’d be
glad to.”
“
Well
I’ll see you at nine o’clock Tuesday then.”
“
Okay.
Oh, I’d like to do some shopping in Big End when we’re there. I
usually buy a few packaged meals and my coffee from the
supermarket. Our village store doesn’t carry it. Do you
mind?”
“
Not at
all. I’ll probably do some shopping there as well.”
Bob left
Claire at Bonnie’s and felt extra happy for some reason as he
walked home.
Over Monday
morning’s breakfast porridge Bob remembered he had a suitable cedar
post that was about the right size to make balls for the Christmas
tree. After washing the dishes he checked the wood in the workshop.
Yes, there it was, a long cedar post he had bought several years
ago when he was going to make a stand for a bird feeder. The wood
was soft, with few knots and long enough to make twenty or more
balls. He cut a four-inch length, mounted it on his lathe and
picked up a chisel. ‘Yes, perfect,’ he thought. It shaped quickly
although it was a bit rough where an occasional knot emerged but
sanding would soon remedy that.
By coffee time
Bob had made a dozen balls and there was still enough wood to make
several more. After coffee and another chapter of his novel he
returned and made another ten. He lunched on bread, cheese, pickled
onions, washed down with tea. In the afternoon he cut two dozen
stars from a plank then sanded them and the balls. Afterwards he
drilled a hole close to one of the points on each star, threaded a
six-inch length of string through the hole and tied the ends of the
string together. Screw-eyes were twisted into each of the balls to
hold their strings. Finding his paint he decided to paint half the
balls red and the other half orange and the stars silver and gold.
He hung all the decorations on a rope stretched across the shop and
began painting. It took him an hour to finish their first coat. He
put the wet brushes in a jar half-filled with turpentine; it wasn’t
sensible to clean them for he’d be using them again tomorrow.
It was
now 4:30. He washed his hands, put on his overcoat and walked down
to the
Gift Shop
to see what
Rose had done with the trains. Two sets had been placed in the
window. She had chosen different colours for the engines and
carriages and put a few of her plastic animals next to them. Bob
was please and entered the shop. “They look very nice Rose. I
didn’t think you’d use two sets.”
“
I think
they make perfect presents. Putting two there might inspire some to
buy more than one.”
“
Let’s
hope so. The animals add interest too. Do you have any small people
or houses to put there?”
“
I’ve a
few old ones in the stock room that might be the right size. I’ll
look for them later. What are you doing for Christmas
Bob?”
“
Just
the usual, visiting the kids. Oh, do you have anything that Jane
and Bess might like? They’re eight and nine, and something for Roy,
he’s eight.”