I saw Bob Willet he brought a message from his wife.
'Alice says could you put off this interview lark until after Christmas? What with the shopping and all the parties she's helping at, she can't see her way clear to think about old times.'
I said I quite understood and I would try my luck in the New Year.
In a way I was relieved. I too had a good many things to do before Christmas, and it would give me time to collect my thoughts about the proposed work.
'You're putting it off,' said Amy accusingly, when I told her.
'I know that, but the world seems to have managed without my literary efforts so far, and I reckon another few months won't make much difference.'
Meanwhile, much relieved, I finished my Christmas cards, decorated a Christmas tree for the window-sill, and looked forward to the party at Fairacre school.
Fog descended overnight, and the last day of term when the party was to take place, was so shrouded in impenetrable veils of mist that it seemed unlikely to clear.
Everything was uncannily still. Not a breath of wind stirred the branches or rustled the dead leaves which still spangled the flower beds.
There were no birds to be seen, and no sound of animal life anywhere.
There was something eerie about this grey silent world. One could easily imagine the fears that plagued travellers abroad in such weather. It was not only the fear of evil-doers, the robbers, the men who snatched bodies from graves, the boys who picked pockets, but the feeling of something mysterious and all-pervading which made a man quake.
By midday, however, the fog had lifted slightly. It was possible to see my garden gate and the trees dimly across the road. No sun penetrated the gloom, but at least the drive to Fairacre would not be hazardous.
I wore my new suit and set off happily. This would be my first Christmas party as a visitor, and I looked forward to seeing all my Fairacre friends.
I was not disappointed. There were the Willets, the Lambs, Mrs Pringle with her husband Fred in tow, and of course the vicar and Mrs Partridge and a host of others.
Jane Summers, resplendent in a scarlet two-piece, and Mrs Richards in an elegant navy blue frock greeted us warmly, and I had a chance to admire the look of my old quarters in their festive adornment.
I was glad to see that the infants' end of the building still had paper chains stretched across it. The partition between the two classrooms had been pushed back to throw the two into one, and Miss Summers' end was decorated in a much more artistic way than ever it was in my time.
Here were no paper chains, but lovely garlands of fresh evergreen, cypress, ivy and holly. The splendid Christmas tree was glittering with hand-made decorations in silver and gold, and the traditional pile of presents wrapped in pink for girls, and blue for boys lay at its base.
I was pleased too to see that Mrs Willet had made yet another of her mammoth Christmas cakes, exquisitely iced and decorated with candles.
The vicar gave his usual kindly speech of welcome, and we were all very polite at first, but gradually the noise grew as tea was enjoyed. We were waited on, as usual, by the children and it was good to see how happy and healthy they looked.
The hubbub grew as we all moved about after tea, greeting friends and catching up with all the news.
'Mr Mawne hasn't turned up,' I heard Mrs Pringle say. 'But then I suppose he's got enough to think about.'
This was intriguing, but I was busy talking to Mr Roberts, the local farmer, and heard no more.
I had not noticed Henry's absence, but now I came to think of it, it was strange that he had not appeared. As a good friend of Fairacre school he had always been invited, and I felt sure that Jane Summers would have made a point of sending him an invitation. Perhaps he had another engagement, or was not well, or had returned again to Ireland? Who could tell? In any case, it was none of my business, I told myself.
People began to move off. The fog was
'Alice says could you put off this interview lark until after Christmas? What with the shopping and all the parties she's helping at, she can't see her way clear to think about old times.'
I said I quite understood and I would try my luck in the New Year.
In a way I was relieved. I too had a good many things to do before Christmas, and it would give me time to collect my thoughts about the proposed work.
'You're putting it off,' said Amy accusingly, when I told her.
'I know that, but the world seems to have managed without my literary efforts so far, and I reckon another few months won't make much difference.'
Meanwhile, much relieved, I finished my Christmas cards, decorated a Christmas tree for the window-sill, and looked forward to the party at Fairacre school.
Fog descended overnight, and the last day of term when the party was to take place, was so shrouded in impenetrable veils of mist that it seemed unlikely to clear.
Everything was uncannily still. Not a breath of wind stirred the branches or rustled the dead leaves which still spangled the flower beds.
There were no birds to be seen, and no sound of animal life anywhere.
There was something eerie about this grey silent world. One could easily imagine the fears that plagued travellers abroad in such weather. It was not only the fear of evil-doers, the robbers, the men who snatched bodies from graves, the boys who picked pockets, but the feeling of something mysterious and all-pervading which made a man quake.
By midday, however, the fog had lifted slightly. It was possible to see my garden gate and the trees dimly across the road. No sun penetrated the gloom, but at least the drive to Fairacre would not be hazardous.
I wore my new suit and set off happily. This would be my first Christmas party as a visitor, and I looked forward to seeing all my Fairacre friends.
I was not disappointed. There were the Willets, the Lambs, Mrs Pringle with her husband Fred in tow, and of course the vicar and Mrs Partridge and a host of others.
Jane Summers, resplendent in a scarlet two-piece, and Mrs Richards in an elegant navy blue frock greeted us warmly, and I had a chance to admire the look of my old quarters in their festive adornment.
I was glad to see that the infants' end of the building still had paper chains stretched across it. The partition between the two classrooms had been pushed back to throw the two into one, and Miss Summers' end was decorated in a much more artistic way than ever it was in my time.
Here were no paper chains, but lovely garlands of fresh evergreen, cypress, ivy and holly. The splendid Christmas tree was glittering with hand-made decorations in silver and gold, and the traditional pile of presents wrapped in pink for girls, and blue for boys lay at its base.
I was pleased too to see that Mrs Willet had made yet another of her mammoth Christmas cakes, exquisitely iced and decorated with candles.
The vicar gave his usual kindly speech of welcome, and we were all very polite at first, but gradually the noise grew as tea was enjoyed. We were waited on, as usual, by the children and it was good to see how happy and healthy they looked.
The hubbub grew as we all moved about after tea, greeting friends and catching up with all the news.
'Mr Mawne hasn't turned up,' I heard Mrs Pringle say. 'But then I suppose he's got enough to think about.'
This was intriguing, but I was busy talking to Mr Roberts, the local farmer, and heard no more.
I had not noticed Henry's absence, but now I came to think of it, it was strange that he had not appeared. As a good friend of Fairacre school he had always been invited, and I felt sure that Jane Summers would have made a point of sending him an invitation. Perhaps he had another engagement, or was not well, or had returned again to Ireland? Who could tell? In any case, it was none of my business, I told myself.
People began to move off. The fog was
Similar Books
