Nell's Festival of Crisp Winter Glories

by Glenda Millard

  Dedication

  For Dad

  22.1.1925–8.1.2013 — G.M.

  For Mum — S.M.K.

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Perry Angel and the Beautiful Tennessee Waltz

  2. What Perry Angel Did Next

  3. Another Best Thing

  4. The Bluephyre Pencil and the Little Beads of Sweat

  5. A Measure of Happiness

  6. The Ache Under Nell’s Primrose Cardigan

  7. Falling

  8. The First Night Without Nell

  9. The Show Must Go On

  10. Forget-me-nots and the Fairy Queen

  11. All That Was Wrong

  12. The House That Love Built

  13. Queen of Crisp Winter Glories

  14. A Dark Place

  15. A New Dance Begins

  16. The World As It Should Be

  Acknowledgements

  Other Books by Glenda Millard

  Copyright

  1. Perry Angel and the Beautiful Tennessee Waltz

  Dance, silent sister of song, lives in the heart of the Kingdom of Silk. Annie Silk’s heart had done a quickstep at the exact moment each of her seven children began to grow inside her. And when at last they were born on the bed made by their daddy, Ben, each one was held close, rocked gently, then passed from one pair of careful arms to another, like steps in the dance of life.

  Perry Angel was not born a Silk. The heart of his sixteen-year-old mother, Sunday Lee, had fluttered in fear when she felt him begin to grow inside her. When he was born, she had held him close, rocked him gently, kissed him sadly then left him for others to take care of.

  When Perry learnt to speak, his words came slow and stumbling. There were many homes and many arms to which he was passed, not all of them kind. Even those that were, never showed him how to dance.

  Then Perry came to the Kingdom of Silk, where they asked him to stay. No-one seemed to mind that he couldn’t find words to say how much that meant to him. The Silks understood that language grows more slowly than movement and that dance has a way of saying things we cannot find words for.

  It was Nell Silk who first danced with Perry. Nell was grandmother to the Rainbow Girls — Scarlet, Indigo, Violet, Amber and Saffron — and to Griffin and anyone else in need of grandmothering. Along with Perry, Layla Elliott was such a child.

  Layla was Griffin’s best friend, and an honorary member of the Silk family. She no longer had a grandperson of her own, and had quickly fallen in love with Nell and the rest of the Silk family.

  One of Layla’s most treasured tender moments was seeing her mother and father dancing on the grass under the Cox’s Orange Pippin tree at the Kingdom of Silk. It happened on the evening after the peace march Scarlet had organised. Almost everyone in Cameron’s Creek had joined in, walking down the main street with candles in cups, setting white balloons free at the church. There was singing and supper under the stars that night. And the Elliotts danced. Layla had never seen her parents dance before. They weren’t dancing kind of people. It was as though the Kingdom of Silk had cast a magic spell on them.

  Sometimes even grown-up people can’t find words for the feelings in their hearts and Perry wondered if this was true even of Nell or his friend Jenkins. There are people who choose to draw or paint or play music or sing or even bake cakes, like Amber, when they can’t find the right words. And then there are those who dance. You can do any of these things by yourself, but dancing is much better when you do it with someone else.

  Perry wished everyone in the entire universe could dance with someone they love. Nell and Perry had often danced the Spanish Fandango around the kitchen table, while blueberry muffins grew fat and fruity in the oven. They had danced polkas in the vegetable patch, simply because the sky was blue, the pumpkins orange, the raspberries red and because even caterpillars have their place in the world. And once, after they had found three small speckled eggs in a wren’s nest in a hedge, Perry and Nell had foxtrotted all the way home.

  Nell didn’t dance as often now, but she still talked about the dances she and her sisters, Ruby, Florence and Alice, had attended when they were little girls. She told of ladies wearing posies of flowers fastened to their prettiest dresses, froths of petticoats under their skirts and small dabs of April Violets perfume in the crooks of their elbows.

  Nell still remembered the names of all the tunes the bands played, the way the Master of Ceremonies called out which dance was next and told you when to change partners. A home-made supper was served on china plates, she said, and there were butterfly cakes, cream kisses and ginger fluff sponges. Fruit punch was ladled from large cut-glass bowls into tiny matching cups.

  Nell’s daddy played fiddle in a dance band and her mama was a pianist. Whenever they went to dances, they took their four small daughters with them. From the time she was sweet sixteen, the only boy Nell ever danced with was Johnny Silk. And afterwards they walked home under the stars, with Johnny’s jacket around Nell’s shoulders.

  But Johnny was gone now and Nell was almost eighty. Sometimes she thought of him when she closed her eyes and played dance tunes on the old piano that was decorated with curly brass candlesticks. Then Ben would join in on his harmonica and Annie would sing while the Rainbow Girls, Griffin, Perry Angel and Layla danced. Neither Nell nor Ben needed sheets of music to play. Some people say this is a gift and call it ‘playing by ear’. But Nell and Ben say music lives inside us all, with her children, dance and song.

  One evening, when Nell was playing the beautiful Tennessee Waltz on the piano and Perry was snuggled up on Annie’s lap in a chair by the fire, he began thinking about Jenkins, his grownup friend.

  Long ago, Jenkins was married to Juliette. She and Jenkins had no babies. They were a family of two.

  When Juliette died, Jenkins was married to no-one. He had no-one to care for until he became Perry’s personal assistant at school. Perry didn’t need so much help any more, but he and Jenkins were still good friends.

  Nell was a good friend to Jenkins too. She made him plum puddings for Christmas and knitted socks for him to wear in winter. But she had never danced with him.

  One day, while Jenkins and Nell were having a cup of tea, Perry Angel and Griffin pegged pieces of cardboard onto the spokes of Jenkins’ Malvern Star bicycle, with its rear-view mirrors and genuine leather saddlebags. But they forgot to tell Jenkins what they’d done and when he was going home the cardboard flaps made such a tremendous noise as he sped down the hill that Blue, Griffin and Perry ran beside him to make sure he didn’t have a catastrophe.

  Nell hurried after them with her hand over her mouth to stop frightened shouts from bursting out. Blue was thinking what fun it was to run so fast. Griffin was thinking it was lucky the gate at the bottom of the long gravel drive was open. Jenkins was thinking it was lucky the Malvern Star had excellent brakes.

  When Nell caught up, Jenkins was resting in the long pillowy grass beside the strainer post. He said he was only catching his breath. Perry was afraid Jenkins might never visit them again, but Nell said he must come and have his trousers mended. And he did. He didn’t ride his Malvern Star, but he wore his tartan bow-tie, his silver hair was neatly combed and he brought a paper bag full of ripe peaches. When he told Nell they were especially for her, his cheeks grew pinker than the peaches’ and Nell bent her head over her mending. She was like a magic seamstress with a golden thimble on her finger, stitching the tear in Jenkins’ pants with invisible thread, making them good as new.

  Sometimes when Nell was playing the beautiful Tennessee Waltz, Perry noticed a look of wishfulness in her eyes. He wondered if Nell was longing for som
eone to dance with. Someone like Jenkins. But Jenkins always went home before the dancing started and, besides, even if he had stayed, Nell would have been playing the piano.

  So Perry Angel decided to find a way for them to dance together. He wanted it to be a proper dance with posies and petticoats and for someone else to play the beautiful Tennessee Waltz. It was this one small wish to make two people happy, which was the beginning of the Festival of Crisp Winter Glories.

  2. What Perry Angel Did Next

  After Perry Angel made his small but important decision, he went to talk to Saffron, the youngest of his Rainbow sisters. Saffron was excellent at keeping secrets and very keen on any activities that involved dressing up. She might not know exactly how to plan a proper dance for Nell and Jenkins, but she would help him find out.

  Saffron listened patiently and carefully, but as soon as Perry got to the part about petticoats and posies and the beautiful Tennessee Waltz she became very excited.

  ‘That’s such a great idea, Perry!’ she said. ‘Scarlet’s really good at making things happen; why don’t we ask her what to do?’

  Perry was pleased Saffron liked his idea even though he hadn’t explained about the peaches’ and Jenkins’ cheeks and the look of wishfulness in Nell’s eyes. He nodded his head, certain Scarlet would have noticed them too. Since she had turned sixteen, she seemed to know a lot about love and other important things. Being sixteen seemed very complicated to Perry. Scarlet didn’t like cardboard pegged to her bicycle spokes any more, but she still liked fake tattoos. She bought bubble-gum from the Colour Patch Café because there were tattoos inside the wrappers. Her favourites were love-hearts and bluebirds.

  Perry used to be scared of Scarlet because she was a teenager: the loud, clever and complicated kind. But he wasn’t scared any more, because he knew Scarlet liked him. She proved it by putting a fake tattoo of Superman on her arm, even though Superman was not her favourite superhero. She did it because Superman was Perry Angel’s favourite.

  Because it was Saturday, Scarlet was at work at the Colour Patch Café. So Saffron and Perry went into Nell’s bedroom and tipped all the dress-ups out of the tin trunk onto the floor. For the rest of the afternoon, Saffron tried on gloves and gowns, bracelets and beads, shawls and shoes and dangly earrings, and Perry put on a big white shirt.

  When Saffron was satisfied with her outfit, she showed Perry how to make a perfect bowtie. Then he combed baby oil into his hair and practised parting it straight down the middle, the way Jenkins did.

  Afterwards, they picked sourgrass flowers and took them into the kitchen, where Nell was making coconut macaroons. She stopped beating egg whites, admired the children’s costumes, said how nice Perry’s hair looked and helped to arrange the flowers into posies. Saffron pinned one to Perry’s striped braces and the other to her fake fox-fur stole. Nell was all out of April Violets, but instead she put a dab of vanilla essence in the crooks of Saffron’s elbows.

  ‘We’re going dancing now,’ said Saffron, taking Perry by the hand.

  Nell went back to her baking without asking why, because at the Kingdom of Silk it is not unusual for people to dress up or to dance on the rosy carpet square in the front room on a Saturday afternoon, or any time at all.

  When it was almost time for Scarlet to finish work, Saffron offered Perry a dink on the back of her bicycle. Perry’s heart bounced. Simply looking at Saffron’s bicycle made him feel happy. It wasn’t a Malvern Star like the one Jenkins rode. It didn’t have rear-view mirrors or genuine leather saddlebags. Ben had found it at the rubbish tip. He’d brought it home all scratched and rusty, put new tyres on it and polished the wheels with a pad of steel wool. Then he’d painted the frame Sunflower Yellow with the leftover paint from the kitchen cupboards, and Annie wrote Saffron’s name in curly writing on the crossbar.

  Anik’s grandma Mosas wove the small willow basket that was tied to the handlebars with blue ribbons, and Nell knitted handle grips to match and a padded cushion for the parcel rack, in case Saffron had a passenger.

  Saffron could make her bike go very fast or very slow and she never fell off, even when she rode it without holding the handlebars. She made it go very fast as they rode to the Colour Patch Café to meet Scarlet.

  The tar strip on the Silk Road was as skinny as a liquorice strap and the sky that day was as grey as a pigeon’s chest. But the yellow bike was a flash of sunlight and Perry was brave and free. He held tight to Saffron’s fake-fur stole as she dodged potholes as big as bird-baths, and together they sang the beautiful Tennessee Waltz all the way to Mr Kadri’s shop.

  Mr Kadri had expanded his business. He had two new tables with matching chairs under the striped awning outside the café. He was pouring mint tea from a silver teapot into tiny green and gold cups. Steam from the hot tea curled like drakes’ tails in the cold air.

  ‘Table for two, Madam, Sir?’ said Mr Kadri, when he saw Saffron leaning her bike against a veranda post.

  ‘We haven’t got any money today, Mr Kadri,’ said Saffron, taking off her helmet and shaking loose her corkscrew curls. ‘We’ve just come to meet Scarlet.’

  She rearranged her stole and untangled the dangly earrings from her marigold hair. Perry took off his helmet and felt his hair, but it seemed to have stayed in place despite the helmet and the very fast ride.

  ‘My goodness!’ said Mr Kadri. ‘Am I mistaken or is that you, Little Petal? And surely the fine gentleman beside you cannot be Superiorman?’

  Saffron smiled.

  ‘Of course it’s us, Mr Kadri!’ she said.

  ‘Yes, now I see your pretty bicycle, but your costumes confused me! Have you come in all your finery to take Miss Crimson home or is there some celebration I have forgotten?’

  Perry could now read the golden writing on every one of his seventy-two coloured pencils and he had discovered that scarlet and crimson are two shades of red. Getting the names of your reds mixed up would be an easy mistake to make if you came from a country where English is not spoken, especially if you don’t have a tin of pencils to check. So Perry didn’t mention it to Mr Kadri.

  ‘No, you haven’t forgotten anything, Mr Kadri,’ said Saffron. ‘Perry’s got a great idea and we want Scarlet to help us. But we want it to be a surprise for Nell.’

  ‘Ah, a surprise for Grandmother Silk!’ said Mr Kadri. ‘Then we must have a meeting here before you go home. Come inside and sit down while I tell Miss Crimson you are here.’

  Saffron winked at Perry. A wink is like a smile: a song with no sound, a dance with no steps, happiness without words. Stars wink because they are too far away for us to hear the sound of their happiness. They are happy simply because they are stars. Saffron winked because Mr Kadri wanted to help without even being asked.

  Mr Kadri ushered them to a table near the window. It was Perry’s favourite: the one where he had sat with the Silks on the day he first met them all. While he and Saffron waited for Mr Kadri to fetch Scarlet, Perry thought about that day, when he had stepped off the train clinging to Melody, the social worker, and gripping the handle of his suitcase.

  He remembered being afraid to meet the eyes of all the people who’d come to meet him. Instead he concentrated on their feet and amongst them saw a small brown pair with glittering toenails. The person they belonged to walked over to him and tied a red balloon to the handle of his suitcase. He remembered looking up at a girl with eyes bluer than starlings’ eggs. It was Layla Elliott. And she’d winked at him. Smiles and winks were so plentiful at the Kingdom of Silk that no-one thought to explain them to Perry.

  Layla had come with the Silks to the Colour Patch Café on that special day. Ben hung her angel wings on the parcel rack and Melody bought raspberry spiders for them to drink. They were the most beautiful drinks Perry had ever seen, pink and bubbly with a dollop of ice-cream floating on top, but Perry was far too anxious to drink his. He was worried about the meaning of winks and wings and other things.

  But that was long ago. On this Saturd
ay afternoon, when Perry saw Mr Kadri coming back to the table with Scarlet, he wasn’t worried about anything. Layla was his friend now and the Silks were his family. He had a great idea and everyone wanted to help him make it come true. He turned to Saffron and carefully winked at her.

  3. Another Best Thing

  Scarlet and Mr Kadri were just as excited about Perry’s idea as Saffron was. As usual, Scarlet suggested they begin by writing a list of all the things they needed to do. They had hardly started when Scarlet’s friend Anik arrived at the café to start work.

  ‘Leave the dishes for now, Anik,’ said Mr Kadri. ‘Come, we must help Miss Crimson make lists.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Anik. His knees were muddy and his shorts were grass-stained, because he had just come from playing football with the Cameron’s Creek Cats. ‘Let me put my bag away first.’

  ‘Anik is a fine footballer,’ said Mr Kadri while they waited for Anik to come back, ‘but an even better writer. He is getting excellent marks at school.’

  Like Mr Kadri, Anik and his grandma Mosas, aunties Shim and Janda and uncle Tansil had come from a faraway land and had learnt to speak and write English only in the past few years. Anik worked very hard at night school to thank Mr Kadri for paying for his lessons. Scarlet says Anik is better at reading and writing than a lot of students who have lived in Australia all their lives. She says he can run faster too and is kinder. She says it’s no wonder Mr Kadri is proud of Anik. Scarlet is proud of him too.

  She sits in the tree house in the Cox’s Orange Pippin and writes poems about Anik, and listens to the music inside her while she writes. Sometimes she puts her poems in a small notebook Violet made from recycled paper. Other times she writes them on her skin. Once or twice she has read them to Perry Angel.

  Nell is teaching Perry about poems called haiku. She says that if Perry listens carefully, his music will help him write poetry. Sometimes the notes Perry hears are sad, sometimes they are peaceful and other times happy, but always they are beautiful. He wants to write poems about old dogs, woolly jumpers, pussy willows and red galoshes. He will make a book of them to have and to hold and he will call it Little Love Poems to the Kingdom of Silk.