Looking straight ahead the tombstone seemed to fill all her vision; Alice could not see anything beyond its form. She read its inscription from top to bottom. It was a memorial to four people. Alice remembered standing by a much smaller headstone when she was just nine years old. Her little sister had passed away just two years, four months old. This much larger stone in front of her had listed to the right and bowed its head somewhat as if apologising for its great age and wear. Some kind soul had placed four very beautiful glass beads at the foot of the stone. These sparkled in the moonlight and glowed softly which, for whatever reason, made her remember a soothing lullaby that filled a nursery years ago. She continued to read the inscription above the beads. Poor Charlotte, she had married very well to Mr Arminson but died when Alice would have been? Alice could not fathom it out, and despite significant concentration could not work out how old she was when Charlotte passed. She read on and became saddened for her father Alexander who she decided had been such a very unfortunate man. He had stood by this stone four times to say goodbye to his girls. Lesser men would have crumbled, and she thought of what a troubled man he must have been, what with all those cares and woes that beset him.
Alice thought enough of such gloom; it is nearly Christmas day, the time when the world remembered it had a further chance to receive a great gift and to accept it wholeheartedly and in great faith. Alice remembered a time when she had given a close girlfriend at the hall a quality dress that she had grown out of and how her friend had thrown it out to be burnt. Alice decided then that presents were to be always accepted gratefully and if one could not make good use of them one should find someone else who could. Promises, she thought, were to be treated likewise. If one promised anyone anything, then one meant it, and that was that. What was it that the Reverend, oh dear forgotten the poor man’s name, had said? ‘An unlikely child brought peace and salvation to all those that accepted it.’ Alice thought that finally, she had cottoned on to what the dear man was saying. It will be if you believe that it will be. It will be because he said it would be. It is done because he did it. And clumsily what he did cannot be undone. Tonight was the night; she could feel it. Why it was this particular night and none of the other nights when she had stood here, she now had the merest fraction of a clue. Tonight was the night. She was convinced. A moment later she felt a very tiny hand grasp her right hand. She didn’t have to look down. She had held this very particular hand before. She savoured the moment for a full minute and then looked down to observe a small child, pretty ‘as a picture’, hair in tresses with pink ribbons, stunning blue eyes, and a smile that said ‘Hello, I am so pleased to see you again.’
They stood together in the moonlight facing the boundary wall of the rectory. The moon was full and bright against the Minster Bell Tower. The date seemed imperative; it was Christmas Eve. A voice behind them very tenderly asked ‘how are you both?’ The newcomer joined the other two and none of them said another word. They waited in silence to see who else would come.
“Sorry we are a bit late,” said a man’s voice. “mother and I came straight here after visiting grandma and grandpapa.”
Mary Anne thought back to an unhappy time before the hurt of loss had finally changed all of them. Once they had been sort of indifferent to one another, time had passed, and their little family now were quite openly loving, sharing, kind and possible a little vulnerable, but what matter, they were closer than ever they had ever been before.
Mary remembered in an instant a long past time and saw herself observing a scene to which she felt detached and isolated from. It was as though she had lived another entirely different separate life, almost like she had been a different person to the one she had very slowly metamorphosed into. Charlotte was old enough and bold enough to ensure that Alice didn’t dissolve into tears. Little Annie had two mums’, for Alice loved her dearly. The Alexander in the scene that she observed being played out in the light which now seemed to radiate from the tombstone looked odd, steely and unmoved and she noticed he often glanced at Alice, the child he adored. So much hurt inside such small, frail containers. Alice looked very pure in her white crinoline, and that hair! She had inherited it from her father, darkest, darkest black, being in such sharp contrast to her skin and dress.
Oh dear, the Alice in this ghostly montage had started to quiver when the priest had said the final prayers, oh I am so glad that I helped the tiny mite she was only nine years old, … Oh she has regained her composure, well done my little darling, you know our society demands you be strong on this hardest of days, no don’t smile dear, that’s wrong today as well.
Well, that’s done. Got through that without any fuss.
Then just as the undertakers left the graveside and bid the mourners follow, Alice let out a wail like the soul of a wounded animal and the white crinoline was muddied by its contact with the piled earth.
“I must go to her Alexander she needs her mother.”
“no please let me help her.”
“leave it with us Alex, Charlotte come with me and let us clean up Alice.”
Mary’s dark thoughts passed and the scene that she had just re-visited after so many years shrank and swooped down low to the earth and disappeared with great speed like a rabbit going down a burrow to escape the pursuit of the fox. She suddenly felt the warmth and glow that true togetherness brings. All five of the family stood in the moonlight enjoying each other’s presence and just wishing for someone to come and tell them what to do next, but persons approached the group.
Suddenly a small black and white dog approached the group, sat obediently, and looked from one member of the group to another until she had gazed at them all. The dog seemed to be checking that everyone that should be here was present. The dog raised its left paw as her master had taught her, and indicated the direction the group should go in. The dog’s tail wagged vigorously. Bright canine eyes surveyed the scene and then all six of them went off together into the dawn of the new day, which was 00:01 Christmas day.
IT was Christmas Eve, and he lay in bed. Two eyes stared at him full on near his feet. It was never dark in this room. The bedroom was on the first floor almost on the same level as the street lamp that glowed with an orange-yellow light just 9 feet away from the rooms’ window. His new little companion was obviously wide awake and spoke to him in that strange low growly way that he knew meant something, but because the relationship was only 13 weeks old, he didn’t know quite what, yet. In contrast, his other companion who he had slept with for 43 years slept an occasional peaceful, dreamless calm, sigh. Damn he thought that bloody dog wants to go out. Sidling out of bed so as not to wake his wife he went to the other room and put on his dog walking gear. He put the dogs lead on and opened the front door. Typically, the dog made a fuss about going out but strangely she crept silently down the stairs and waited patiently for the door to be opened to her new outside world. The dog must have lived in a bloody cupboard like that Potter kid before she came to live here, doesn’t like pigeons, doesn’t like clouds, doesn’t like shadows, doesn’t like, and on and on. Oh, well, sweetheart you’re here now or rather you will be in about six month’s time. He reflected on the abysmal progress the poor terrified little dog had made since she first came and said a silent prayer that she might settle in immovably soon. For all her faults, he loved his new little mate. They headed for the Minster and its graveyard as was their late-night walk custom. The clock struck 16 times and then chimed the hour Bloody hell it’s 4 am and here we are on Christmas day wandering about the dearly departed. They ended up by the side of a stone that he had visited a lot since retiring to this sleepy northern hollow As was his long-established custom he said hello to Alice, to Annie, Charlotte, Alexander & Mary Ann. He hesitated, and then went on to tell them how much he missed his previous little dog and that if they saw her could he ask that they look after her for him. Then he looked at his new little mate and said ‘don’t worry, I love you just as much, but you are with me and she is not.’ As if in answer to this last sentence that he had spoken out loud to the tiny dog by his side a vision rose slowly up, best akin to a ghostly power point slide from a divot near the base of the tombstone. The vision initially blurred, cleared went into focus and then just for a short few seconds, he saw a euphoric family who were playing with a black and white spaniel in the brightest of sunshine days, there was a sudden snatch of good-humoured laughter, he felt a sudden warmth and a lightness in his spirits. Everything was well ‘it’s my beautiful Ashkin’. He distinctly heard several voices say “come on then girl, lead the way…” and a dog playfully adding a short, excited bark, and then he was sure that he heard the footfall of a group of people moving away from him.
Inside him was a warmth that he had not felt for a few months now. It developed into a glow and his stomach, that had played a constant gurgling unpleasant and often painful tune, went silent, and he felt again at peace in a world that he had thought to be so deeply troubled. He walked away from the stone and coming to the path that went further into the church yard he turned left and headed down the slight gradient until he turned right and headed down a pathway toward Parsons Lane. A grave on his right caused him to stop and in the light of his torch he caught sight of the legend ‘Methodist clergyman’ 1844-. Ah! He thought to himself, so here is where the churches finally all reunite, and he wondered what this man would tell him of his life in Howden. He was almost sure that he heard someone speak these words “he is the way, the truth and the life and meets us in many different places, but his kingdom is everywhere.”
