Page 57 of The Cornish Christmas Book Clu
‘Good luck.’
She debated popping in to see Gage, but resisted the temptation and went straight home.
A couple of hours later, Tamara made a cup of tea, popped two warm mince pies on a plate and flopped down in a chair. She picked up one to take a large bite. The pastry was golden-brown, light and flaky, her homemade mincemeat perfectly spiced. She had baked two hundred, which sounded excessive, but it wasn’t boasting to say that from experience, Tamara knew few people could stop at eating just one. Any leftovers would surely find good homes among her friends.
Once her unconventional lunch was finished, she put one mince pie in a bag to take to Gage. He might not appreciate it, but would eat it for her sake. To pacify, she added a sandwich on his favourite crusty wholemeal bread, filled with juicy thick-cut ham, sharp cheddar cheese and a layer of crisp lettuce.
Tamara hummed to herself as she strolled down the road, checking out what new Christmas decorations had popped up. When the short-lived winter sun started to fade, everyone’s lights would come on and start twinkling like the starry sky.
The only snag was that Victoria still hadn’t responded to Gage’s multiple attempts to call her, and they didn’t know why. Despite that, Tamara hadn’t looked forward to the festive season this much since Toby had been full of wide-eyed childish excitement about the holidays.
* * *
‘I’m off to help Paul set up the refreshment stall.’ Gage shouted upstairs to Tamara. She was in the flat, clearing away the scratch meal of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast they’d pulled together after the shop closed for the day.
‘Okay. I’ll be along soon with the first batch of mince pies. The girls will be there with the drinks in a few minutes too.’
He tugged a thick, dark-green jumper on top of his checked shirt and pulled a black beanie over his head. To his mind, it’d turned chilly, although a certain tough lady would laugh at the idea of wearing any warm clothes.
Outside he stopped for a moment and mused at the wintry scene in front of him. During long, dark winters, it was no wonder people found ways to brighten the days until spring, all the way back to the first caveman’s fire. The soft glow of the streetlights. A flickering Christmas tree shining through a house window. Vernon’s festive shop display. And last, but certainly not least, the well-lit pub. Pixie had gone all out with aspectacular laser light show projected onto The Rusty Anchor’s front walls.
It bothered him that Pixie and Tamara still weren’t speaking. A couple of times, he’d dared to raise the subject but had got his head bitten off for his troubles. Christos was still around because Gage saw him behind the bar on quiz night. Not that the man looked very happy about it.
Gage rubbed his cold hands together and strode off towards the church. He was early, as usual, and there was no sign of Paul yet, so he headed towards the tree. A rough curse broke out of him.
‘What’ve the buggers done?’ Paul’s gruff voice rang out behind him and he turned to see his friend, red-faced with anger.
The tree lay on the ground with several of its limbs lopped off. Shards of the red plant pot were spread over the grass along with glass from the shattered lights.
‘I know some weren’t happy with us having the tree, but they didn’t have to spoil it for everyone else. The little kiddies are going to be some disappointed.’
‘Then we’ll have to make sure they aren’t,’ Gage said firmly.
‘Well said.’ Tamara hurried over to join them.
His brain went into battle mode. ‘First thing is to get it upright and see how bad the damage is. We need to spread the word and see if anyone’s got any spare lights. I doubt anyone will have a pot big enough, so we’ll dig a hole and stick it in the ground for now.’
Between the three of them, they righted the tree and leaned it against the churchyard wall. By now more people had started to arrive, including Wilf and Karen, who stared at their decimated tree in disbelief.
‘Who would do this?’ Karen was close to tears.
‘Someone who resents us moving here and trying to do our bit,’ Wilf said sadly.
‘Well, they don’t represent the majority.’ Tamara’s no-nonsense statement was typical. Any sort of unfairness and prejudice got her back up. ‘It doesn’t look too bad. Once we get some lights back on, it’ll be fine.’
He wasn’t so sure, but, if the tree wasn’t a perfect specimen, did that matter? With an inward smile, he compared it to himself. It also reminded him of a children’s book he’d put out on the shelves today.The Last Christmas Treewas about a misshapen tree missing several branches that no one chose to buy, until the right family came along who it suited perfectly.
Next thing, a couple of men whom he’d seen in the pub but didn’t know by name turned up with a garden shovel and pair of loppers. One started digging a hole while the other trimmed the tree to even it up. By the time the tree was nestled in the ground, willing neighbours had brought over more than enough lights to replace the broken ones, so Paul went back into action and set the lights up all over again.
‘I’ve got just the thing to finish it off and prove the light of Christmas will keep shining no matter what.’ The vicar passed a large, bright gold star up to Paul, who fixed it to the new, slightly flatter top.
The crowd had swelled while all this was taking place, and Gage blinked back an unexpected rush of emotion at the sight of the community coming together. Tamara’s hand clasped his tightly and he noticed a shimmer in her big blue eyes.
As the designated turner-on of the lights, Vernon stepped forward, but, instead of launching into a long speech as everyone had anticipated, he beckoned Wilf over to join him. Some muttering went on between the two men, then Wilf took hold of the big red switch Paul had engineered for the occasion.
‘I don’t deserve this honour, but Mr Bull is most insistent. My wife and I love Penworthal already and hope it will be our home for many years. After I turn on the lights, we’re going to sing “Silent Night” and then some more carols. I’m told our book-club ladies have a stall set up with warm mince pies and a mulled cranberry punch. There’s no cost, but donations for the Spirit of Christmas meal will be gratefully received. And now let’s count down from ten and get Christmas in Penworthal started!’
Gage held his breath that the hastily erected lights would work, but at the press of a button the tree blazed with a mixture of all shapes, colours and sizes of lights.
