33

Costumes and Explanations

Saturday morning greeted Emily with bright, clear skies as she took a coffee and sat outside on the back patio, using a towel to first wipe a layer of snow off the table and chair. Even though the blizzard had cleared overnight, the air temperature was still a couple of degrees below zero and the snow showed no sign of going anywhere. With more forecast for this evening—though not quite the same amount as yesterday—it looked like the Christmas carnival would play out in beautiful wintry conditions.

Today was the final day of preparations before tomorrow’s carnival. Emily felt both relieved and excited, partly for the event itself, but also for the challenges that were coming on the horizon. In three days, the carnival would be over, her work here would be done, and she would need to face what she had been running from all this time.

She had already decided what she would do.

With a blanket over her knees, the view down across the snow-covered garden and of the valley beyond was worth braving the cold. She got up to get herself another coffee, but had only just made it to the kettle when someone knocked on the door.

It was just after eight o’clock, so Emily expected work was already underway up at the carnival site. Today the last stalls should be setting up, while mobile toilets and a first aid stand were expected later on. She had handed over much of the supervision to Kelly and Skip, but perhaps she was needed for something she had overlooked.

Just about the last thing she was expecting to find standing on her doorstep was Cinderella, resplendent in a gold lace ballroom dress, a little golden crown perched on her head, which at first appeared to be twinkling, but on closer inspection was fitted with battery-powered fairy lights.

‘Do you think Peter will like it?’ Veronica asked.

Emily was too stunned to reply. She just shook her head for a few seconds, then burst out laughing.

‘He’ll hate it, won’t he? I’ll take it off. Can you help?’

‘Wait, no, just hang on a minute.’ Emily glanced up and down the street, finding it empty. ‘Quick, get inside before anyone sees you.’

Veronica stumbled through the door, the wire frame that kept the dress’s hem extended catching on a stone frog doorstop for a moment before popping free.

‘So, this is your costume for the carnival, is it?’ Emily said, managing to get Veronica inside and the door finally shut. ‘Cinderella?’

Veronica rolled her eyes. ‘I’m Tinkerbell,’ she said.

‘Oh. Well, I guess they’re not so different.’

‘We decided to go to the carnival together,’ Veronica said.

‘What’s Peter going as?’

Veronica rolled her eyes and groaned as though the answer should have been obvious. ‘Peter Pan.’

‘Right. I’m sure you’ll look great. You thought you’d just test it, did you?’

‘Bought it last year for a friend’s party,’ Veronica said. ‘Fancy dress, you know.’

‘I thought it might be a bit much for a wedding.’

Veronica shrugged. ‘Thought I’d better check it still fit. Put on a bit of weight since last year.’

Emily found that hard to believe, but just smiled anyway. ‘Well, it looks like it fits fine. You’re getting on with Peter okay, are you?’

Veronica’s cheeks turned bright red. ‘Um, yeah. Seems like it.’

‘I’m happy to hear that.’

Veronica looked uncomfortable for a moment, shifting from foot to foot. Emily wondered how easy it was to go to the toilet with such a monumental dress in the way.

‘Just wanted to, you know, say thanks.’

‘What for?’

‘For showing up.’

‘Here?’

‘Yeah. Otherwise, I might still be in there—’ Veronica hooked a thumb over one shoulder ‘—and he might still be in there.’ The thumb hooked over the other shoulder this time. ‘Might never have had a chat, you know.’

‘You don’t need to thank me. You should thank the person who sent the letter I found.’

‘I would if you’d tell me who it was.’

Emily smiled. ‘Well, maybe one day. I don’t want to embarrass him. Did you and Peter sort things out then?’

Veronica shrugged. ‘He said sorry for being a dick when we were kids. And I said sorry for telling him his hair looked crap.’

‘You do set quite a standard.’

Veronica shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Anyway, thanks. Right, I’d better get back. You got your costume sorted?’

Emily shook her head.

‘Well, you’d better hurry up.’

‘I will.’

As she helped Veronica out, she wondered what on earth she could wear. It had to be something appropriate. As she closed the door, she glanced across the square at the village green, at the spot where the restriction sign had been as recently as yesterday morning.

She wondered if Nathan had thought about going to the carnival, and if so, what his costume might be.

A couple of hours later, after risking the icy roads, Emily found herself in Exeter city centre. Buzzing with people doing last-minute Christmas shopping, she felt as invisible in the crowds as she felt visible among the sparse population of Cottonwood. In some ways it was a relief, in others she felt disappointed. She was one of just millions, after all, every one of them with their own hopes, fears, dreams, and regrets.

Across a selection of fancy dress shops, she was able to get what she needed. Then, after putting her shopping back in the car, she went to meet Karen for coffee and lunch.

‘So glad to see you again,’ Karen said. ‘I’ve been drowning in testosterone these last few days. David and his brothers had an archery competition yesterday, for heaven’s sake.’

‘Who won?’

‘The mother-in-law. Would you believe that heinous creature almost made the team for the 1980 Olympics? She pulled a muscle in her crotch the night before the eliminations and had to pull out. She still won four national titles, though.’

‘I don’t know how you can stomach all that achievement.’

Karen shrugged. ‘She hasn’t won a game of Uno in three years. Not against me, at any rate.’ Leaning forward to lower her voice, she added, ‘I always sleeve a couple of plus fours on the shuffle, just to make sure.’

‘You’re such a rebel. Are you all set for tomorrow?’

‘We’ll be over there bright and early. Costumes are prepared.’

‘What are you going as?’

‘Snow White and the seven dwarfs. I had to rock-scissors-paper with the M-I-L for Whitey or the Queen. It was touch and go for a moment there.’

‘Who won?’

‘She did, of course. Although I’ve upgraded the queen to Maleficent. More of a feminist vibe. Plus, she’s hot.’

‘Sounds great. I can’t wait.’

‘And as well as Archibald manning the minibus, the boys are happy to bring a couple of the Land Rovers to help out with the ferrying of people to and from. Are you expecting many?’

Emily smiled. ‘Apparently five hundred people have liked the advertising post on Facebook, so that’s positive, isn’t it?’

Karen reached across and patted her on the hand. ‘You’ve done a brilliant job,’ she said. ‘You must be so proud.’

‘All I did was nudge them in the right direction. I think they would have got there in the end by themselves eventually.’

‘Yeah, in ten years. You’re a legend. Now, have you thought about what happens after? What happens to the teahouse?’

Emily nodded. ‘Yeah, I have. I think I’m over the grieving stage. It’s time to move on with my life.’

She stopped by the teahouse on her way back. The place felt empty and unloved, so she got out a mop and bucket and a bottle of window cleaner and spent a couple of hours smartening it up a little. She even hung a string of fairy lights across the front window. She had brought her laptop with her, so when she was done cleaning and tidying she set it up on a table and got to work contacting all Elaine’s old suppliers. It took her until mid-afternoon, but with the sky filling with ominous clouds, she was keen to return to Cottonwood before dark.

With the first flurries of snow falling around her as sunset glimmered through the bare branches of nearby trees, she just made it, pulling into her parking space just as the bare gravel began to spot with white.

Skip was standing outside the pub, writing on a chalk board. ‘Pre-carnival party for the organising crew,’ he shouted across to her. ‘All drinks on the house, and I’ll be dusting off the karaoke machine. Any time from seven.’

‘I’ll be there,’ Emily called back. ‘I can’t wait.’

Skip gave her a thumbs-up.

The holiday let was cold, so she spent some time getting a fire going, then went into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of spaghetti for dinner. After another frantic day she had hoped to relax, but since it wasn’t likely, she figured she might as well try on her costume to make sure it fitted.

She had just pulled her hands through the sleeves and pulled the hood down over her head when someone knocked on the door.

Emily froze. It might be wise to pretend to be out, so she kept quiet. She waited a full minute, but just as she was certain the visitor had gone, the knock came again.

‘I know you’re in there,’ came Nathan’s voice. ‘I haven’t been spying on you, but your car is parked across the street and there’s smoke coming from the chimney. I just wanted to talk for a couple of minutes.’

While he still sounded like the Nathan she knew, there was something different in his voice. He sounded almost submissive, as though he had finally let his guard down. Emily hurried to the door before he could disappear back into his castle.

‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I was just trying on my costume for tomorrow’s carnival procession.’

Nathan winced as though it was a personal attack. ‘I can see that,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, this will only take a minute.’

‘Thank you for yesterday,’ Emily said. ‘I mean it. What you did was very kind.’

Was that a hint of colour in Nathan’s cheeks? ‘I couldn’t just ignore it,’ Nathan said. ‘Of course everyone would assume it was my fault, but I could never hurt someone, much less a child. I’m glad there was something I could do to help.’

‘So what was it you wanted to talk about?’

Nathan walked past her into the living room and sat down on the sofa facing the fire. He reached forward and began to rub his hands together. Emily followed him in, but unable to sit, she just stood nearby, waiting for him to speak.

‘I was seven years old,’ he said, staring into the fire. ‘I loved Christmas as much as anyone else, and you know how hard it is for kids at that age to sleep on Christmas Eve. As always, I tried to stay awake to wait for Father Christmas, only to fall asleep as always.’

Emily nodded. ‘I remember it well. My grandmother used to give me a bunch of housework jobs to do in order to tire me out.’

Nathan gave a brief, pained smile. ‘That year, however, I heard a bump from downstairs. The living room was right beneath my bedroom, and the floor was just wood, so I could always hear the hum of the television, or even when people got up or sat down. I got out of bed, and crept downstairs. I peered around the door into the living room, and there he was, right in front of me.’

‘Who? Father Christmas?’

‘Right there, holding a big bag which he was filling with presents from under the tree.’

Filling?

Nathan nodded. ‘I didn’t realise it at first, but that’s exactly what he was doing. Remember, I was seven. Without really knowing what I was thinking, I stepped out into the living room and said, “What are you doing?”’

Nathan shivered. His hands shook as he held them out to the fire. A single tear ran down the side of his cheek.

‘He looked up at me, and time seemed to stand still,’ Nathan said. ‘I should have realised that this wasn’t the real Father Christmas, but I was seven. I believed in magic back then, and never for a moment questioned that Father Christmas wasn’t a real person who actually came down our chimney every Christmas Eve.’ He shook his head, then swiped the tear off the edge of his jaw. ‘He literally snarled at me like a dog. Then he said, “Breathe a word about this and you’ll never get another present again.” I was frozen, unable to respond. He took a step toward me, snapping his teeth, and I bolted. I ran up the stairs, back to my room, and hid under the covers. I didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night, and that Christmas morning I had to be practically hauled downstairs.’

‘What happened to the man?’

‘A few weeks later a local man got arrested for a series of robberies over the Christmas period. Several witnesses saw him dressed up as Father Christmas, a disguise he used to both hide his identity and blend in. Mine wasn’t the only house he robbed that Christmas Eve, but I was the only person to catch him in the act.’

‘He got away with your presents?’

Nathan shook his head. ‘No. That’s the worst bit. He put them all back. I couldn’t bear to be in that room, and when my parents tried to force me I had a meltdown. I ended up in a children’s psych ward over that Christmas. Of course, they had Christmas decorations everywhere to cheer up the kids, which only made me worse. It wasn’t until after Christmas was over that I calmed down, and everyone ignored it until the following year, when I started to have panic attacks. Ever since then, Father Christmas has been a trigger for me. When I was eighteen I moved to the USA. Halloween and Thanksgiving are far more popular over there, so I didn’t have to think about Christmas for so long. But every year, at the beginning of December, I took myself off traveling somewhere to avoid it.’

‘But eventually you came back?’

‘My mother wanted someone to take over the house. I decided that I would live in it after all. Cottonwood is fairly remote, so I could avoid most things to do with Christmas. Then I found out they were still running their accursed Christmas carnival.’

‘So you shut it down?’

Nathan sighed. ‘I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I abused the power that I had. I don’t know if anyone will care, but I’m sorry.’

‘I think they will care. And I think that in the true spirit of Christmas, they’ll forgive you.’

‘I don’t need forgiveness. I just needed someone to know the truth. So they might understand. I talked through everything with Claudette—Mrs. Taylor—and she told me that if I explained what happened, it would make things easier to deal with.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny Father Christmas figurine.

‘She also gave me this. She told me that by holding it in my hand, by facing it and realising it was just an image, I could slowly overcome my fear of it.’

‘Has it worked?’

Nathan shrugged. ‘So far, so good.’

‘So you’re finally coming to terms with it?’

‘I’m doing my best. I feel numb to it rather than outright scared, but it does all leave a sour taste in my mouth. I want to enjoy it, but I don’t think I can. All I can do is try to make peace with it so as not to ruin it for other people.’

‘I’m proud of you, and very happy for you.’

Nathan grimaced. ‘I never asked for this. I used to enjoy Christmas just like everyone else, and that … evil man ruined it for me.’

He looked about to cry. Emily squeezed herself down on the sofa beside him and attempted to pat him on the shoulder. It was as close as she had ever been to him, but instead of the excitement she might once have expected, there was nothing. While his looks had once inspired a brief crush, it appeared to have been downgraded by the calamity of his personality.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, feeling like a sister forgiving a wayward older brother she was welcoming back into the family after a spell out in the cold.

Nathan looked up, and even though his eyes were filled with tears, he smiled. ‘You’re dressed as a tree,’ he said. ‘It’s very hard to talk about this to someone dressed as a tree.’

‘It’s symbolic,’ Emily said, laughing. ‘Symbolic of what brought me here. Would you like a mince pie? I have a few in the kitchen.’

Nathan nodded. ‘That would be great,’ he said. ‘And, you know, I think my sugar levels are a bit low, so I could probably handle a hot chocolate too.’