Page 90 of The Secret Christmas Bookshop
Apart from the puddles, the evening got off to a good start, a four-piece band of teenagers starting off the open mic with a rousing rendition of ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’that got everyone singing along.
‘Sorry about the puddles,’ Sophie heard Harry say as the young saxophonist picked his way across the grass afterwards. ‘You were great, by the way.’
‘We’ve got more songs if you want,’ the young man said with a cocky grin. ‘We can do Rihanna’s “Umbrella”.’
Harry laughed. ‘Definitely do that. I’ll find you space in the schedule.’
Half an hour later, Sophie had let go of most of her concerns. The villagers didn’t seem to care about the bad weather – seemed to thrive on it, in fact – and Simon’s fish and chips and Natasha’s mulled wine were both popular on such a cold night. The Decoration Station was also getting a lot of interest, and it swelled Sophie’s heart toknow that each one of the little handmade decorations had a Christmas wish or a message of gratitude inside: that the oak tree – at the heart of the village where it belonged – was also carrying their heartfelt messages.
She was showing one of Lucy’s friends, Sabina, how to stand and throw to have the best chance of scoring big on the Carnival Toss, when she saw a familiar figure meandering through the crowd.
‘Thanks, Aunty Sophie,’ Lucy said with a grin, her reindeer antlers jiggling in the wind. ‘We’re good now.’
‘You sure? OK, then.’ She said goodbye and chased the dark ponytail across the green. She hadn’t seen May properly for a few days, and she wanted to ask her about Christmas presents for Harry. They hadn’t talked about what they were doing on Christmas Day, which seemed ridiculous when it was only three days away, but she thought that was probably because Harry didn’t want to pressure her into committing to anything she wasn’t ready for. She felt guilty, and she wanted to show him how much he meant to her.
‘May!’ she called. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the Rudolph Hoopla and someone singing ‘Mack the Knife’,and over the wind that had returned with full force, whistling between the food trucks and craft stalls, sending the oak tree’s decked-out limbs into a discordant frenzy.
May clearly hadn’t heard her, but Sophie persisted, pausing when there was a shriek from somewhere, making sure it was a happy shriek, not one signifying disaster. When she was confident it was a patron enjoying themselves, she hurried on. She saw May turn towards the row of craft stalls, and then, as she got close, someone shoutedher name, their voice rising above the other festival sounds.
Sophie peered over the tops of heads to see who wanted her. It hadn’t sounded like Harry. Ermin, maybe? Was it …? There was a huge crack of thunder, followed by a long, loud rumble, as if a giant had taken the break on a huge pool table in the sky, and the balls were rolling, rolling, rolling above them. She instinctively ducked down, and now thereweresome unhappy squeals in the crowd, because with the thunder came the rain. It fell all of a sudden, like an icy sheet.
‘Shit!’ She scanned the green again and saw Harry standing by the oak tree, his hand raised, waving frantically, his expression telling her that she needed to get over there.
She raised her arm, hoping he’d seen her, and began to cross the green towards him, weaving through people who had their heads down, looking for shelter. Then the whole scene lit up in a huge flash, a second of complete whiteout, and the thunder crashed again. There were shrieks and people running, pelting rain and the howl of the wind. Sophie stood for a moment, frozen to the spot, and then, just as she was about to get going again, a deafening BANG obliterated all the other sounds, making her jump and plunging everything into darkness. No more Rudolph and his soundtrack, no more Frank Sinatra renditions, no more glimmering lights in the trees or glow through the hall windows. No more streetlights.
The whole of Mistingham faded to black, and then, all hell broke loose.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The shouts and squeals and screaming wind made it hard for Sophie to think. There was no moon because of the storm clouds, which meant that everything was truly dark.
Voices called around her, high and panicked.
‘Beth! Beth, where are you?’
‘What happened?’
‘Is everyone OK?’
‘Jesus, what a storm.’
A few phone torches flicked on, but they were will-o’-the-wisps, not lighting enough to make sense of anything other than the obvious reality that people were panicking and hurrying, as if the green itself was dangerous.
A hand gripped Sophie’s arm, making her jump again. ‘Are you OK?’ It was Dexter.
‘Oh, Dexter, I’m fine. Are you OK? Where’s Lucy?’
‘Hopefully with Sabina and her parents, but I need to find her.’ He put his phone light on, highlighting them both.
‘I should take control of this,’ she said. ‘I’m supposed to be in charge.’ What she really wanted to do was find Harry, check that he was all right. The wind was still raging, but the crowd felt thinner, as if people had decided to head for home, where they at least knew where things were, even if they couldn’t see them.
A large, bright spotlight shone over the green, and for a moment Sophie thought the power had come back on, but then Ermin called out, ‘If you all want to make your way to the hall, we can shelter there until we decide what to do. If you want to go home, and you’re safe getting there, that’s fine, too!’
There was agitated chatter and a swell of movement, Ermin shining his torch on the door of the village hall. Above them, Sophie could just make out the rolling storm clouds, and around her, flickers of people finding each other with their phones, but that was all. The edges of the green were nothing but different shades of black.
‘I’ve seen Lucy,’ Dexter said, sounding relieved. ‘I’m going to make sure she’s OK, then I’ll find you, help wherever I can.’
‘Great. Thank you, Dex, but stay with Lucy if she needs you.’
