CHAPTER 73
It is as strange as I hinted, how Christmas passes like a train in the distance when you are working, but we had managed to distribute some oddities and soddities to our friends, and Ginny and Kate, Stewie and Sally, made it for an unChristmas Dinner on an off day, for which Ginny and I prepared a Thai banquet with some Vietnamese twists, including spicy omelette eaten wrapped in lettuce leaves with fresh lemon grass. Well, that was as unChristmassy as we could imagine.

The day finally came around when we would invade the churchyard, and that morning the phone rang. Eric took it, grinned, said a few words, and hung up.

“Time to ring your landlord, love, we get the keys in a fortnight!”

Packing for the church event was thus a little delayed, and we were actually still in bed when Geoff rang the bell for the trip over with the gear. Given the time of year, we were going with a larger tent and a great pile of duvets rather than sleeping bags, and of course a stove for Eric to brew up with in the morning. I had one moment of unpleasantness, as I packed two pee bottles, but I stirred myself out of the darkness by reminding myself that at least having a cock gave that advantage.

Hint to self: research in-tent urination solutions available for women. Second hint to self: the realisation that I had assumed, as naturally as breathing, that I would go down that route. It had always sat there as an unspoken assumption, but there it was, out and smiling. Surgery. Put the thoughts away for later, girl, they need a calm soul, and proper consideration.

Everything went into the van, including the small loaf and pack of bacon that is traditional when camping. Off went Geoff, and off we went for a shower, and well…

Eric had to be dragged out of the bedroom in the end and made to get on his bike, all he seemed to want to do was sleep. We rode the five miles to the venue on a crisp afternoon, as the shadows lengthened and frost hinted at its arrival. Several folk were already there, tents mushrooming across the grass.

A skinny blond missile hit me with an embrace, followed by her husband, and after I had disengaged from the Wilsons I asked the obvious question.

“You haz gots fire poi?”

John grinned. “Dark evenings are the best, love! Only thing is, it all depends on the kids, and if it is too cold, will they be able to sit outside?”

“Well, watch and wait. Main thing is to have a good evening, then a bloody good night, aye?”

Fee was doing the girl thing, checking me from head to foot. “This will sound stupid, as you look so girly now, but the more I watch you now, the more I kick myself in the back of the head and say, ‘Fee haz not gots branes, Fee is stoopid’. It all clicks now. There was always a ‘what’s wrong with this picture?’ thing with you and, hey, there you go, it wasn’t wrong it was just over the page”

“Yeah, they always had those two, in the Bunty comic, didn’t they? The spot the difference one bored me, but the ‘what’s wrong’ was always…”

They were both grinning at me.

“So I read girls’ comics whenever I could get them, aye? Is that a crime?”

The evening was falling as the last tents went up, and then a phalanx of bikes followed Naomi’s car into the yard. Naomi climbed out, followed by Darren, as a swarm of Woodruffs emerged from the car and dismounted beside it. And there stood Mark Kerr, Kelly grinning happily beside him, and Jimmy, looking as disreputable as ever.

“Hoo’s it gannin’, Annie?”

“And what are you doing down here?”

“Whey, Ah couldn’t leave the lad on his aan, could Ah? And somebody telt us there was beer here, an aal”

I gave him a hug, and got a peck, and then got mugged by both the young ones, followed by Bill and Jan. The former whispered into my ear.

“If that Eric isn’t treating you properly, just let me know and we can elope”

Nothing changes. Ginny and Kate were in the group, and shortly thereafter Stewie drove in with Sally and Polly.

Soon, the extended family were settled in, and I noticed one thing that was a bit of a surprise: Kelly and Mark were sharing a tent. Jan caught my stare.

“What do you suggest, Annie? They sleep together furtively, and riskily, or legally and safely, with us to look after them? If they go off to college together, they will, sure as eggs is eggs, so…”

Sometimes things happen that make you realise the world rotates around itself, not you, and that was one. We laid out our mounds of bedding as the darkness came on and the air started to bite, and then, er, decamped to the Hall, where tables were laid ready for the kids and ourselves. Party hats, balloons, it was looking good. Simon was happily adding the last touches to the decorations when we heard the coach arriving outside.

It turned out to be three vehicles, two being adapted minibuses with wheelchair hoists, and very shortly a small army of children of varying height and health was invading the room. I gave the nod to the other musicians and Eric, and we started to set up at the end away from the main door. Darren was carrying his drum bag and collection of beaters, with that odd look of pride and nerves that all new musicians have on performing in public.

We played, and they listened, and the Wilsons did “Why Paddy’s Not at Work Today’, which amused the children, as well as some of the adults, and all through the set Darren was playing with utter concentration, totally absorbed in his work. Kelly did some clogging, and her beau played the pipes, and there were fiddle bits and overblowing, and just general silliness. Nothing too energetic, nothing too ‘hairy’, just fun tunes and the occasional silly song, and an awful lot of food. I supposed that a diet of hospital catering would make anything look good, but I have to admit that the Women’s Institute, who were supplying most of the meal, did a splendid job. All too soon, we were left with a battlefield of soggy paper plates and a procession of happy kids being helped back to their transport with fading pleas for ‘just one more tune’.

As Simon headed off to dish up the trays of shepherd’s pie and vegetable lasagne that was earmarked for us older kids, I caught Steph’s eye, and then Darren’s.

“Shall we?”

He grinned. “Yeah…”

Eric was already there, with his guitar this time, and at my whispered cue he started the slow introduction, and then I once more took up the vocal line from ‘My God’. Steph started to flit around me, and Darren was setting quite a complex backbeat going, in which he was joined by Jan. Jimmy just watched, and on cue Steph and I exploded into the hairy bit, as the other three held our metaphorical coats and the rhythm, and it was as good as we had ever managed to be together, and each time I looked at her to bring it back down she took it further and more manic, so of course I had to follow suit, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the hall full of dancers, and to the other side I saw that Darren was completely and utterly bent over his drum, left hand absolutely flying as Jan watched and let him drive the beat, and Eric bent over them both to hit the riffs, and then finally, finally, we had to bring it back down before our food got cold and the beer warm.

I ended it at last, and we stood and stared at each other, Darren looking shocked, then suddenly shouting “Yay!”, the grin slicing across his face.

Simon sighed. “Well, sort of a religious song. How about ‘Wind Up’ next time? Food now, beer now, laughter and love and friendship RIGHT HERE AND NOW!”

And there was, right there and then, and it was better than Christmas, because there was no excuse for it apart from love and friendship, and common humanity. Simon caught my mood.

“Annie, you may not be religious, but trust me, tonight is what being a Christian is really about”

“What, free beer?”

“No, that’s just a bonus!”

Later, as I snuggled into my man in the cold and the dark, there was a rustle of zips, and a small voice.

“Could I…?”

I shuffled even closer to Eric.

“Of course, Darren. Snuggle in and sleep well”