Nell's Festival of Crisp Winter Glories

by Glenda Millard

  ‘Thirty-seven!’ said Violet, who had been counting as the townsfolk lined up beside the Silks, waiting for Daryl and Cynthia to arrive.

  It was Annie who explained to the visitors that the slate shingles had been salvaged from Pearl Brady’s cottage before developers built a block of apartments on the site. She told them how the windows had come from the small suburban church where Nell and Johnny were married. She pointed out the rosy carpet square, now hanging on the wall, and told them how it had belonged to Nell’s parents — that its thinness was due to three generations of children dancing on it. And when they went outside, Annie showed them the handprints in the concrete path, one for every person who helped Ben make his dream come true.

  But the visitors had a job to do. They inspected, checked boxes and wrote a report. Then they looked at the proud faces of the butcher, the lady from the post office, the policeman, the refugee family, the preacher, the bus driver, the doctor, the cemetery caretaker, the school teachers and the children. And this time the visitors stayed for afternoon tea, warmed and welcomed by walls as curved and cream as angels’ wings. Around and above them tree-trunk posts and beams held everything in place like everlasting arms. Cynthia and Daryl gazed out through a wall of five church windows and watched the glories of winter from the house that love built.

  13. Queen of Crisp Winter Glories

  On the fifteenth of August, hail glittered bright as diamonds in the gutters. Robins bloomed rose-red on barbed-wire fences and the air was too sharp to breathe. But soon music and laughter would eddy in the velvet dark above the crooked streets of Cameron’s Creek. Skirts would swirl, toes would tap and hands would clasp and clap as the townsfolk, young and old, waltzed winter into their hearts like an old forgotten friend.

  Perry knew he should be happy. Nell was home. She took The Intrepid where others dared not go. But he couldn’t help wishing Nell could dance, just once, with Jenkins. As the day progressed, Perry almost wished there was no dance. Perhaps it was a mistake. Surely it would make Nell sad to see everyone else dancing, when she was not able to join in.

  The Rainbow Girls spent all day helping to decorate the streets and the hall and set up stalls. Mr Kadri invited all the children to watch the procession from the balcony above the Colour Patch Café. The Elliotts arrived at five o’clock to drive Griffin and Perry into town. Annie, Ben and Nell stayed behind. Even with the help of The Intrepid, it was too difficult for Nell to get up into the cabin of the Bedford, so Doctor and Hilde Larsson had promised to take her to the street parade in their car. It was a vintage car, older than the doctor, and he drove it only on rare occasions.

  Perry, Griffin and Layla wove their way along the crowded footpath. It was exactly as Perry had imagined and for just a while he forgot about the dance.

  Fairy lights and paper lanterns criss-crossed the streets and delicious aromas of food filled the air. Small pointy-roofed tents lined the footpath, selling clouds of fairy floss, paper cones of jam doughnuts, buttery corn cobs on skewers and barbecued hamburgers. There were water pistols and wind-chimes, hand-made slippers with tinkling bells on their pointed toes, cardboard cowboy hats and kewpie dolls in glittering skirts. You could ride in a firetruck or in a brightly painted cart pulled by a small, shaggy donkey; you could watch a Punch and Judy show or enter a hula hoop competition.

  It was almost six o’clock when from somewhere down near Elsie’s post office, music began to play.

  ‘Quick!’ said Layla. ‘Let’s go up on the balcony now. I think it’s nearly time for the parade to start.’

  The Cameron’s Creek Municipal Brass Band came first and driving slowly behind them came a long sleek car. It was cream with a soft black hood that was folded down. As it drew closer, they could see there was a passenger in the back seat and a sign on the shiny silver grille at the front of the car. It was too far away to see what the sign said or who the passenger was. The children cheered and waved as the band drew closer and suddenly Scarlet laughed. She was watching the procession through Ben’s binoculars. He had said that Scarlet was to be in charge of them, but everyone was to have a turn.

  ‘I knew Mama and Mrs Larsson were up to something!’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Layla.

  ‘Keep watching and you’ll find out,’ answered Scarlet.

  ‘Pass me the binoculars; it’s my turn now,’ demanded Indigo.

  By the time all the Rainbow Girls had looked through the binoculars, the procession was very close. Perry wriggled between everyone’s legs and squatted at the railings that surrounded the balcony, where he had a good view of what was happening below.

  The band stopped directly in front of the Colour Patch Café and Doctor Larsson’s sleek vintage car pulled up beside it. The sign on the front of the car was easy to see now and Perry read it aloud, ‘Queen of Crisp Winter Glories’. The passenger in the back seat looked up at the balcony where the children were and waved. In her other hand she was holding a golden curtain rod that looked exactly like the one the Silks used when they dressed up for special ceremonies. On her head was a wreath of berries and twigs and around her shoulders she wore a cloak the same cream as the car with white fur around the collar and cuffs. Suddenly Perry recognised the Queen of Crisp Winter Glories. It was Nell!

  14. A Dark Place

  When the procession was over, Doctor Larsson drove Nell slowly around the block again. He told her it was to admire the decorations. This was true, but it was also to give everyone a chance to get to Saint Benedict’s before them.

  When the doctor pulled up beside the hall, Henry Jenkins was waiting at the door with The Intrepid. He was wearing his navy pin-striped suit, with a white handkerchief in the pocket and a nosegay of lily of the valley in his buttonhole, and he couldn’t remember having felt so nervous since he was a very young man. He straightened his bow-tie, dusted the toes of his shiny black shoes on the backs of his trousers and took a deep breath.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ he said and he took Nell’s arm while she steadied herself with the help of The Intrepid.

  ‘Thank you, Henry,’ said Nell. ‘Is this where they’re having supper? I could do with a good hot cup of tea.’

  ‘I’ll make sure you get one,’ said Mr Jenkins as he walked beside her to the door and opened it.

  ‘It’s a little dim in here, Henry,’ Perry heard Nell say. ‘Are you sure this is where the supper is?’

  Someone giggled, the lights flashed on, the band struck up and everyone began to sing.

  Nell sat on the padded seat of The Intrepid looking every inch the queen. When the final line of the birthday song was sung, the cheers rang out. Then the preacher, who was Master of Ceremonies, announced the first dance.

  ‘Take your partners for the Fairyland Waltz,’ he said.

  Jenkins guided Nell across to the wall under the heaters and handed her his handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose and Perry Angel cried. He’d wanted so much to make this a special day for Nell and now it was ruined. It was all his fault she was upset. He crawled between the black curtains and sat under the stage in the darkness, wiping his tears on his white shirt sleeve. The preacher called the Polka, the Foxtrot, the Quickstep and the Pride of Erin. And then, at last, Perry heard the music of the Tennessee Waltz.

  The band played beautifully. The dance floor was filled with graceful feet. Scarlet in her long red velvet dress danced with Anik, who looked very handsome in tails. Layla’s brother, Patrick, danced with Saffron, who was dressed like her heroine, Anne of Green Gables, in emerald green with hoop petticoats and button-up boots.

  Indigo wore an old silk wedding dress she’d found in the charity shop and dyed Rose Madder and Cobalt Violet. Her face was painted to look like a butterfly and from her back sprouted a pair of peacock-feather wings. She danced with a boy with blue hair and a black coat and three rows of medals made from the lids of baked-bean tins.

  Annie glided by in Ben’s arms and then Griffin and Layla, who’d had dancing lessons fro
m Miss Cherry. The hall was a blur of colour and sound, but in his dark place under the stage all Perry could think about were Nell’s tears.

  When the music stopped, the preacher took the microphone. Perry could hear him on the stage above.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Before we break for supper, Henry Jenkins would like to say a few words.’

  Perry sat behind the curtains. He wished he could come out, now the dancing had stopped. Who was looking after Nell? Where was she? He heard footsteps coming closer. Was it Jenkins? What did he want to say? But Perry couldn’t come out now, when everyone would be looking towards the stage. He opened the curtains slightly wider and peered out.

  Henry Jenkins made sure Nell was beside him in front of the stage. She sat on the seat of The Intrepid. It was higher than a chair, which made it easier to get up and down, and she had a better view of all the people in the hall. The preacher handed the microphone down to Jenkins. Perry saw his dear friend fuss with his jacket and heard him clear his throat, but he could not see Nell’s face.

  Then Jenkins did a most surprising thing. He knelt on one knee, took Nell’s hand in his and said, ‘Nell Silk, will you marry me?’

  Perry couldn’t stay under the stage a second longer. His hair was covered in cobwebs, his shirt had come untucked, there were dirty smears on the sleeves and the marigold in his buttonhole was drooping. Nell was crying again, but she reached out when she saw Perry and drew him close.

  ‘It’s all right, Perry; I’m dancing on the inside,’ she whispered into his ear. But her words echoed all around the hall, made loud and clear by the microphone Jenkins was holding. Then Nell leant forward and put her other arm around Jenkins and said, ‘Of course I will marry you, dear Henry.’

  Ben was not surprised. He was glad the extension was big enough for two.

  15. A New Dance Begins

  In a city by the sea, far away from Cameron’s Creek, a child is born. Her mother holds her close, counts ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes and kisses the tip of her button nose. She whispers lullabies from a faraway kingdom into ears as curled as commas. While they sleep, Sam Sparrow takes a photograph of Sunday and their daughter. Later on, he writes on the back of it.

  Baby Sparrow, born on a Tuesday.

  A daughter for Sunday and Sam,

  a sister for Perry Angel.

  Another dance has begun.

  He puts it in an envelope and addresses it as follows:

  To the Silk Family of Cameron’s Creek

  16. The World As It Should Be

  Spring, one year later, the Silk children rise as early as the sun, their faces bright as daffodils. Dew dampens the hems of their pyjama pants as they wander through the grass with baskets on their arms. The girls have their hair twisted in rags to make it curl into ringlets. Layla is with them, of course. They gather flowers: freesias, lilies of the valley and pale-pink fairy roses.

  Back at the house, they spread their treasure over the kitchen table and weave the tiny rosebuds and sprigs of maidenhair fern through willow wreaths, binding them in place with narrow satin ribbons. Nell and Annie make perfumed posies of freesias and lilies and wrap them in paper doilies. When the posies are done, Annie takes Nell to the bathroom to wash her long white hair in rainwater and lemon juice.

  Griffin and Perry run outside to find Ben, who has borrowed Fangled, the ride-on mower, from the cemetery. The boys take turns to ride behind their father as he cuts the grass beside the dam, under the Cox’s Orange Pippin and beside the table made of timber from the broken bridge at Gypsy’s Creek. He mows in beautiful curves making the ups and downs of the Kingdom of Silk look like a park.

  While the kitchen is clean and quiet, Amber puts the finishing touches on a cake as tall as a castle. She adds sugared violets, white doves and velvet ribbons to the smooth white frosting. It is the most beautiful cake she has ever made and the most complicated. Hidden under the white frosting there are spices, honey, flour, eggs and cherries red as hearts.

  At mid-morning, Perry Angel waits on the Cameron’s Creek railway platform. His cheeks are as pink as pigeons’ toes, and the world is reflected in his shining eyes. His feet are brown and bare and there is a generous coating of glitter on his toenails. His shirt is the colour of happiness and he wears a pair of chicken-feather wings. In his arms, he holds a bouquet of freesias, white ones, the sweetest kind.

  The ten-thirty express rumbles towards the station, whistling a warning. Perry turns and looks back at the people he loves: Ben and Annie, the Rainbow Girls, Griffin and Layla. Blue is there too and Barney Blacksheep, with Zeus perched on his newly shorn back. Only Nell and Jenkins are not with them.

  The train squeals to a stop. Perry turns towards it and waits while the passengers disembark. Sam Sparrow steps onto the platform and helps Sunday, who is pushing a pram with big wheels. The baby inside is all curls and chubby cheeks. Perry puts the freesias in Sunday’s arms. Sam hugs him and the baby claps her dimpled hands.

  The Colour Patch Café is closed today. There is barely a car to be seen in the main street of Cameron’s Creek. The bus disappears slowly down the road. Mr Davis has a full load and the pack-rack on top is piled high with folding chairs and picnic baskets.

  The Sparrows and the Silks climb into the big yellow taxi bus — all except Ben, Blue, Barney and Zeus. The taxi driver says he is not permitted to transport livestock. Ben is not livestock, but he has to drive the Bedford home.

  Zeus stands on the dashboard near the radio and tries to turn the knob with his beak to change the station. Blue and Barney sit in the back and Blue smiles at the taxi as they follow the bus all the way to the Kingdom of Silk.

  At two thirty, Nell and Jenkins stroll towards the Cox’s Orange Pippin, arm in arm over the sweet mown grass, between clumps of creamy freesias. Nell wears lavender-grey lace and a hat with a wide brim and a short, hail-spot veil. Henry wears a kilt.

  Six barefoot bridesmaids and two pages trail behind them. The pages wear loose white shirts and soft grey trousers. Perry Angel wears his wings. Layla and the Rainbow Girls are dressed in paper taffeta gowns that rustle when they walk, with clouds of pink tulle petticoats and satin sashes. They wear the coronets made that morning over their tumbling ringlets and carry the posies made by Nell and Annie.

  The preacher has no official duties today. He sits with Ben and Annie. He has no family of his own, but the Silks have made him part of theirs, just as they have so many others from both Cameron’s Creek and far away.

  The celebrant’s name is Sally. Her hair is a cap of smoke and light, her eyes are chocolate pools, her voice is the song of a skylark’s and her face is a pixie queen’s. She welcomes the bridal party and their guests to the cathedral of blossom and earth and air.

  ‘It seems fitting to gather today, at the foot of a fruit tree, to speak of love,’ she says. ‘Long ago, William Shakespeare wrote the play Romeo and Juliet. Act two is set in Capulet’s orchard, where Juliet speaks of her love for Romeo. These are her words.’

  Sally reads from a small leather-bound book.

  ‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

  My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

  The more I have, for both are infinite.’

  Saffron leans towards Perry.

  ‘That’s just another way of saying love is elastic,’ she whispers. ‘There’s always enough to go around.’

  ‘Hundreds of years have passed since these words were written, but here at the Kingdom of Silk, it is clear they are no less true today,’ says Sally.

  ‘Nell Silk and Henry Jenkins will now make their commitments to one another.’

  Nell turns to face Mr Jenkins. She speaks calmly and clearly.

  ‘Love does not dim with age.

  It grows brighter until

  we know that love is

  all

  that matters.

  I have loved and been loved

  and will love

  again.

  I love and have loved


  truly and deeply,

  but none more than you,

  Henry Jenkins.’

  Mr Jenkins cannot speak. The paper in his fingers trembles. Nell takes his hands in hers. Their eyes meet and he speaks:

  ‘Nell Silk,

  you make the world a better place.

  You are my world …’

  Henry is full of joy and empty of words. But that is enough for Nell.

  Sally guides them both through the formal vows and declares them husband and wife. There is no need to release caged birds or butterflies; the heavenlies are filled with them. Petals shower the newlyweds as they move to sit in a love seat Ben has made from bent willow. The bridesmaids sit on the grass, as pretty as the blossomy boughs above. The guests drink a toast with water from the Valley of the Unicorns.

  Next it is Ben’s turn. Griffin watches his daddy’s hands untie the string from a parcel. Brown paper falls away like autumn leaves, revealing a Naming Day Book. The baby carved on its wooden cover looks like a cherub — all curls and chubby cheeks.

  A breath of wind gently moves the pippin blossoms, and Griffin looks up through the branches to the scraps of sky beyond. There is an ache inside him. Layla takes his hand and squeezes it and Nell smiles gently into his soul, silently reminding him Tishkin is with them today, as she is always. Sam and Sunday’s baby laughs and claps her hands. Ben passes the book to Sam.

  Sunday has dressed her daughter in a gown smocked with silk and embroidered with rosebuds. It has been worn by many other little girls: Ruby, Florence, Alice and Nell Rose, Katie and Ella Silk, and the Rainbow Girls. A gown of memories, as frail as dragonfly wings, as strong as love.

  At last it is Perry’s turn. It was he who helped Sunday and Sam find the perfect name for their baby girl. Today, for the first time, he will speak it to the wind and the soil and the sky of the Kingdom of Silk. His wings tremble a little but he takes a deep breath, raises his eyes to the Bluephyre sky and says the words he knows by heart.