As they turned right out of the driveway and started along Glen Path, neither woman spoke for a short while. Bel looked up at the black skeleton arms of the trees lining the road, their ghoulishness redeemed by the glistening frost and the patches of fresh snow that seemed to illuminate the darkness.
They walked on through the snow. It was sparkling white. A fresh layer had covered the icy grey slush they had trudged through on the way there.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about Henrietta?’ Bel said eventually. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to say to her ma, she hardly knew where to start.
‘I did tell yer about Henrietta,’ Pearl said.
‘Just that time you’d wandered into her room by mistake,’ Bel said, glancing at her ma. ‘You didn’t say you’d been there to visit her – and frequently, by the sounds of it.’ Suddenly the penny dropped. ‘Of course, your days out with Bill!’ She stared at Pearl. ‘There was us all thinking you two were going out on dates.’
Bel laughed. She felt high. Drunk on all that had taken place.
‘I should have guessed,’ she said as they walked on. ‘Borrowing Agnes’s dress! Eee, Ma, you can be a bit of a dark horse, can’t you?’
Bel was walking fast and Pearl was struggling to keep up. It was as though every ounce of energy had been sapped from her. All she wanted was to be sitting in the Tatham with a large whisky in front of her. She’d definitely earned one.
As they turned left and started walking along The Cedars, they both jumped when they heard a car hoot its horn behind them.
It was Helen in her green sports car.
She pulled over, leant across to the passenger door and opened it.
‘Hop in, you two, this is your sleigh ride back home!’ She too was feeling intoxicated, even though she’d not had a drop to drink.
Pearl jumped in first, not caring that she’d be shoulder to shoulder with the Havelock girl. Bel squeezed in after and pulled the door shut.
As they slowly made their way along the wide, treelined street, then across Ryhope Road and down Villette Road, Pearl’s eye caught a flash of red. It was a robin redbreast and it had settled on the wooden gate to the Barley Mow Park – opposite the street where Gracie’s mam and dad lived.
For the first time, Pearl smiled.
When they turned into Tatham Street, they were surprised to see everyone outside the pub rather than inside in the warmth.
As they got nearer, they saw why – the Salvation Army brass band was blasting out ‘Good King Wenceslas’ and everyone was singing along.
Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the Feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even.
Brightly shone the moon that night,
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight,
Gath’ring winter fuel.
As they climbed out of the car, they heard the trumpets and cornets and surprisingly in-tune vocals.
‘Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou know’st it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?’
‘Sire, he lives a good league hence,
Underneath the mountain,
Right against the forest fence,
By Saint Agnes’ fountain.’
As the three women crunched through the fresh snow, dodging an energetic snowball fight, they saw that their family and friends were in the crowd.
‘Bring me flesh, and bring me wine,
Bring me pine logs hither,
Thou and I will see him dine,
When we bear them thither.’
Page and monarch, forth they went,
Forth they went together,
Through the rude wind’s wild lament
And the bitter weather.
Polly was standing with Artie, who was so well wrapped up against the cold he looked as if he was in a cocoon. Next to her were Agnes and Beryl, arms linked, and behind them were Iris and Audrey, who were singing their hearts out and smiling at the two Home Guard lads on either side of them.
‘Sire, the night is darker now,
And the wind blows stronger,
Fails my heart, I know not how;
I can go no longer.’
‘Mark my footsteps, my good page,
Tread thou in them boldly,
Thou shalt find the winter’s rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly.’
Toby was standing behind Dorothy, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm. Angie was linking arms with Kate, who was standing next to Alfie. Mr Perkins had his arm around Mrs Perkins, and Hannah and Olly were holding gloved hands next to them.
In his master’s steps he trod,
Where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed.
Rosie was standing behind Charlotte and had her hands on her shoulders; both looked happy, very happy. Martha was towering at the back, not wanting to spoil everyone’s view of the smartly decked Christian soldiers who were filling the street with the sound of Christmas.
Gloria was next to her holding a tired-looking Hope, her legs wrapped round her mammy like a monkey. As soon as she spotted her big sister, her little face lit up. Helen hurried over, a little unsteady in her high heels.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing.
Bel turned when she heard her daughter cry out ‘Mammy!’ and saw Lucille charging towards them. Bending down, she picked up her little girl, gave her a cuddle and put her back down.
‘Nana!’ Lucille looked up at her grandma.
Pearl ruffled her granddaughter’s hair.
‘All right, pet,’ she said. ‘Yer had a good Christmas Day?’
Lucille nodded.
‘Eee, well, best get myself a drink before I die of thirst,’ she said, turning to go to the pub.
Bel caught her arm.
‘Thanks, Ma,’ she said.
‘Nowt to thank us fer, Isabelle.’
Bel smiled as she watched her ma make a beeline for the Tatham.