Chapter Text
The blast of icy air forced its way inside the village hall, the doors swinging open with a clatter to herald the latest arrivals. A small girl of around twelve and a plump young woman flanked the older, larger figure of their middle-aged mother who chivvied them inside, hastily pushing the door firmly closed. The trio brushed snow from their shoulders, stamping their feet to dislodge the compacted white slabs clinging to the soles of their boots.
“Right, now keep your coats on” the woman instructed her two wards, “it’ll be no warmer in here than it is out there.”
It was sage advice. The other women assembled, and with the sole exception of Father Brown it was women who were gathered, were wrapped in their long winter coats, many of them still wearing hats and scarves too, their attire attesting to hall’s chilly climate.
The younger child was dispatched to the far corner of the room where a gaggle of small girls huddled in a circle playing a clapping game, their palms and fingers bright pink through a combination of the slapping of skin and the Arctic temperature.
Isabel looked up from her place at the trestle table, her peacock-blue princess-coat marking her out amongst an otherwise duller sea of colours. Smiling warmly she waved at the newcomers beckoning them to join her. The plump young woman beamed back broadly, full pink lips drawn wide to reveal a pearly white smile, long coppery-brown hair parted at the side and clipped above one ear. Her heavy grey coat was belted high around her stomach, its woollen fabric still glistening wet from the snow.
“Hello Mrs Devine!” she called giddily. “Me and mum have come to help!”
“Jilly, how many times have I told you, it’s Mrs Sullivan now” her mother corrected her a little harshly, removing her gloves and stuffing them into her coat pockets.
“Don’t worry” Isabel said, patting the young woman on the arm, “I’m still getting used to the new name myself.”
“Well, let us know what’s to be done and we’ll make a start.” Jilly’s mother had the same dark coppery curls as her daughter but whilst Jilly’s hung softly around her shoulders Mrs Baldwin’s were cropped short, the ends poking from beneath a thick navy cloche hat.
Shuffling along to make some space at the table Isabel gestured for Jilly to take the spot beside her. “You know Theresa don’t you?” she asked, nodding towards the dark haired girl a little younger than Jilly who was beavering away quietly, head bent.
“Oh yes, we know each other!” Jilly confirmed, her deep-set blue eyes twinkling excitedly.
“Then how about you help Theresa wrap the presents for the younger children and maybe your mother could help Miss Morgan with the food hampers?”
Tasks assigned they made themselves busy, their merry chatter adding to the hum already echoing around the wood panelled hall. Even the harsh winter weather that had taken root these past few days couldn’t dampen the festive spirit of Kembleford’s womenfolk working towards a common goal.
The two women opposite Isabel packed various tins and jars into small wooden crates while she consulted her clipboard. “Best put another jar of that jam in for the Coles and I’ll make sure Violet gives them some extra biscuits too” she said, tipping her head towards the sergeant’s wife working diligently at the neighbouring table.
Mrs Baldwin shook her head, “I don’t know what some folks would do without this help. I mean it’s not just a case of money being tight, some’ll be cut off completely if this weather gets any worse.”
“I’m glad the youngsters are the ones out delivering the hampers, I almost fell flat on my back on my way here” Miss Morgan next to her exclaimed. The combination of her well-spoken accent and her low resonant tone gave everything she said an air of gravitas. “I had to hang on to Theresa, didn’t I?”
The teenager gave a tiny nod of agreement, “Yes Aunt, you did” she replied shyly, her dark doe eyes flickering upwards briefly before settling back on the task at hand.
“Usually I’d take Hercules, I mean my car, out to deliver but I’d never hear the end of it from Edgar if I got stuck in a snow drift!” Isabel’s comments drew small polite smiles from Miss Morgan and Mrs Baldwin. Her own smile faltered as she thought of her son still in London, “Eddie was supposed to be coming home tonight but now he says he’ll catch the last train tomorrow instead!” she blurted, shaking her head frustratedly at her son’s sudden change of plan, “I’ve told him, last train on Christmas Eve, it’ll be standing room only, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“Eddie’s coming home for Christmas?!” Jilly’s excited tone drew Isabel from her gloom and wry smiles from the two ladies opposite her. The young woman’s fondness for Eddie Devine stretched back to their days as pupils together at the village school but while Eddie had grown up and flown the nest Jilly, by necessity, had remained firmly at her mother’s side here in Kembleford.
“Yes, that’s right” Isabel nodded, knowing how eager Jilly would be to see him again. Though the pair had never been friends as such Eddie, to his credit, had been less mean spirited towards Jilly than many of his peers. “Once he’s back we’ll put up the tree and the decorations.” The thought of preforming their family tradition brought a warmth to her chest.
“Let’s hope the forecast is wrong and this snow doesn’t get any worse then” Mrs Baldwin raised her eyebrows, “I heard tell they were already cancelling the trains past Bristol this morning.”
Face creasing in concern Isabel silently berated her son once more for not coming home when he’d had the chance. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he get’s snowed in and has to stay in London!”
Realising she’d put her foot in it Mrs Baldwin sought to alleviate the situation. “Oh, I’m sure it won’t come to that.” Her words of consolation were rendered hollow by her previous statement. “And anyways, you’ll have your new husband to keep you company” she added with a hint of a smile.
“You’re called Mrs Sullivan now ‘cos you married the policeman” Jilly chipped in.
“That’s right” Isabel nodded.
“So does that mean Eddie is called Eddie Sullivan now?”
With a gentle smile Isabel shook her head, “No, he’s still called Eddie Devine.”
Jilly’s eyes danced from side to side, digesting the information. “But I changed my name when Mum married Dad” she said with confusion, “That’s why I’m called Jilly Baldwin, isn’t that right Mum?” she looked across the table to her mother for confirmation.
With a slightly exasperated sigh Mrs Baldwin replied tersely in her thick local drawl, “When your father died and I remarried you were still a little girl. Eddie’s a grown up, it’s not the same thing at all.”
Shrinking back a little Jilly mulled over the explanation while Isabel and Miss Morgan shared a fleeting glance. They both knew how frustrating Mrs Baldwin found it on occasions, her grown-up daughter needing the same, if not more looking after than her second, much younger child who was still playing happily in the corner of the hall.
“So is the policeman Eddie’s dad now or not?”
Keen to nip things in the bud before Mrs Baldwin became further annoyed by her daughter’s questions Isabel answered plainly. “Eddie’s a grown up now, he’s too old to need a step-father.” She was unsure whether that clarified things but for the time being Jilly seemed content to help, or in reality hinder, young Theresa as they wrapped a bright blue toy car in paper adorned with images of shiny baubles and bells with bows.
Peels of laughter rang out from the corner of the room, the younger children getting increasingly boisterous as their clapping games became more elaborate and faster paced.
“After Mum married Dad they had our Maureen” Jilly said, nodding towards her younger half-sister whose thick wooly tights had begun sagging unflatteringly around her chubby legs. “Now you’re married again Mrs Sullivan will you have another baby with your new husband?”
The naïve question, though well intentioned, caught all within ear-shot off-guard, instantly sucking the air from the conversation. Isabel was taken-aback by the visceral reaction Jilly’s words elicited, a hot sickening knot twisting in the pit of her stomach, her cheeks blazing red despite the coldness of the hall. She realised the young woman was expecting a reply yet wasn’t sure she could speak for the lump in her throat.
In the end it was Theresa standing at the end of the table who came to the rescue. “C’mon Jilly, put your finger on the paper so I can tie the string” she said in her soft shy tone.
Suitably distracted Jilly turned her attention back to the task at hand. Isabel forced a smile to her lips, pointing first to her clipboard then towards Violet Goodfellow at the neighbouring table. “Better remind her about the extra biscuits for the Coles hamper” she managed to whisper before scurrying away.
Lowering her voice Mrs Baldwin turned to the woman next to her. “I could throttle our Jilly sometimes” she admitted through gritted teeth, watching the infinitely patient Theresa help her wrap the little toy car.
Miss Morgan smiled sympathetically, “Don’t you worry, Mrs Sullivan won’t take any offence. She know’s Jilly meant no harm.”
“Oh, I know, you’re right” Mrs Baldwin sighed. At the sight of the two policemen’s wives divvying up dried goods at the next table she softened, “I know how lucky I felt to remarry after my first husband passed away. I’m delighted Isabel and the chief inspector have each other for company now too.”
The two women shared a sentimental smile. “They do make a lovely couple” Miss Morgan agreed dewey eyed, “I’m sure they’ll be very happy together, whatever life holds in store for them.”
Such was the warmth of the atmosphere in the cramped little hall that it was almost possible to forget that outside it was snowing an absolute blizzard.