by Clare Revell
Mrs. Chadwick started crying.
Mr. Chadwick tried to comfort her.
Joel and Elliott put their arms around Faith and Grace.
Rick swallowed hard. “Is she OK?”
“Like DI Holmes said, she’s working through some stuff. She’s asking a lot of questions about God and I’ve convinced her to come and hear me preach tomorrow morning. But she’s adamant no one will want her back once they know the truth about her.”
“And what is the truth?” Faith asked.
Nick looked at Nate. “Angel is…”
“In the back bedroom. Lower your voices,” Nate said.
Grace caught her breath. “Is she Hope’s daughter?”
Nick nodded. “She was pregnant with Angel when she ran away. She was convinced you’d disown her.”
“We didn’t approve of that man she was hanging around with.” Mr. Chadwick frowned. “He was far too old for her. She was only fifteen when she first started seeing him.”
“He managed a brothel,” Nick said quietly. “In which he gave her a job.”
A collective gasp shot through the room.
“Tactfully done, Nick,” Nate muttered, writing something in his notebook.
“She’s a prostitute?” Rick asked.
“Was,” Nick said quickly. “She stopped before Angel was born. Got a waitressing job, put herself through college, and got a job as a social worker. She wanted the best for Angel.”
Nate looked at them. “I can’t let her have Angel back right now. The DSS have laid some serious allegations at her feet. I’m pretty sure they are all false, especially given the information I’ve learned and the glowing report Angel has given me of her mum. But until I know for definite, I have to proceed as if Angel is at risk in her care.” He paused. “Another twenty four hours or so should tell the tale, one way or the other.”
“I want to see her,” Mrs. Chadwick said. “No matter what she’s done, she’s my daughter.”
Nate nodded. “You can see her when she’s ready. What I’d suggest for now is a letter. I’ll pass it on to her, and return her photo.” He took the picture and slid it into his pocket.
“Angel can stay here as long as—” Grace broke off as Angel came into the room carrying something. “What have you found, sweetie?”
“Why have you got a photo of my mummy?” Angel asked holding the picture out.
The room went deathly quiet.
Grace knelt on the floor and took hold of the little girl’s hand. “Because your mummy is my sister. And I haven’t seen her for the longest time. I miss her very much.”
Angel studied her. “Does that mean you and Faith are my aunties?”
Grace nodded. “And that also means that Rick is your uncle and these are your grandparents.”
“I never had none of them afore,” Angel said. “Do you want us or are we going away again?”
Grace shook her head. “No, you’ll never have to go away again.” She hugged Angel and looked up at Elliott. “Hope can have the flat over the shop and have a job too, if she wants it.”
“Slow down, love.” Elliott knelt beside her. “She may not want that. The first step to her coming home has to be hers, right?”
“When?” Grace asked. “When can I see her?”
“Write the letter,” Nick said. “I’ll bring her to church tomorrow and leave the ball in her court.”
“Nick! How come you’re here? Is Mummy with you?”
“No, she isn’t. But she’s OK.” He pulled the rabbit from his pocket and held it out. “I believe this is yours.”
Angel squealed and held out her arms. “Mr. Evans-Teush. I thought I’d never see you again.”
Nick grinned. “See, Christmas is a time for reunions.”
****
Eight on the dot the following morning, Nick rang the bell at the manse. He wondered what sort of reaction his hair would get.
Jack didn’t let him down as he rolled his eyes.
“What?” Nick said, handing over his coat.
“That’s not a haircut. It’s a massacre.” Jack shook his head with a sigh.
“Jealous…” Nick teased. He went into the kitchen and sighed as Hope simply pushed the toast around the plate. “Doc wants you to eat,” he told her. “He’ll make good his threat of the IV if you don’t. And that would look stupid in church this morning.”
“I’m not going. I can’t” She didn’t raise her gaze from the plate.
“You promised.” He slathered butter over the toast and reached for the jam.
Several different expressions crossed Hope’s face in a matter of seconds.
The silence was oppressive, almost too heavy to bear.
He sat still, unsure of her reaction. Finally, he took a deep breath. “What’s up?” he asked.
Hope looked at him and indicated with her finger for him to turn round.
Rolling his eyes, Nick stood, twirled around, and then turned to face her.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at his hair. “Did you get the number of the lawn mower that hit you?” she asked wryly.
Jack put a cup in front of him. “Coffee. And yes, I agree with the lawnmower comment.”
“Thanks.” Nick pulled a face at Hope and sat. He picked up his toast. “Just because it’s a bit shorter than normal,” he began.
Hope snorted. “Nick! It’s a grade one! It couldn’t get any shorter.”
“Sure it could,” he said. “I could be bald. And it was always this short when I was in the army. So you don’t like it then?”
“It’s great,” she said, not sounding very convincing. “It suits you. It’ll just take the congregation time to get used to.”
“You’ll have time. Besides, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
****
The minute Nick walked into the church with his incredibly short haircut, and wearing Carson’s bike leathers, he regretted it. Going for the shock effect had succeeded. He walked to the vestry hearing the whispers around him of how far he had fallen.
Jack rolled his eyes as soon as the door was shut. “I assume you know what you’re doing?”
Carson looked over. “He cleared it with me. It’s fine.”
Jack led the service.
Nick sat with Hope. Her family was on the other side of the church. She hadn’t noticed them, and Nick wouldn’t point them out. She seemed uneasy enough. Hardly anyone looked anywhere other than him. The way he was dressed was influencing the way they saw him. They no longer saw a pastor, they saw a thug or bad-boy biker.
Nick glanced down at his sermon notes and made a decision he just hoped he wouldn’t regret. After the third hymn he moved to the front of the pulpit. He looked out over the congregation, all sitting there with the sermon points on their laps. “You won’t need those,” he said. He ripped up his sermon. “Because I’m not preaching on that subject.”
The murmuring got louder.
Nick was certain Jack glared at him even though he didn’t look at the other pastor.
“This morning, I want to talk about attitudes and preconceived ideas over what people are and what they do. How the way they dress or cut their hair or the way they talk or even their job affect the way we look at them. I mean there’s a huge difference between a doctor and a dustman or a school teacher or a prostitute. Or is there? And before anyone walks out thinking this isn’t relevant I want you to think about appearances. The looks I’ve been given this morning made me think about how the way people dress influences the way they are perceived. But it’s the inside that matters, not the outward appearance.”
He glanced at Jack, who still had his arms crossed. “This week we celebrate Christmas. Jesus’s birth was foretold for centuries. People expected someone who’d save his people. Probably expecting another David, or Moses, to free them from Roman tyranny. After all He was referred to as great David’s greater Son.
“However, what they got wasn’t what they’d expected. A baby born to a couple of villagers, a coup
le of no ones. She wasn’t even married when she became pregnant. Imagine what they’d make of it if they knew her betrothed wasn’t even the father.
“A King, who was born a pauper. A carpenter who used hands that created us, to create furniture. He didn’t look anything like Who He was. In fact, no one from His home town recognized or acknowledged Him. Yet despite the fact the King of Kings had been born in a stable not a palace, He was still King. He did not dress in royal robes, yet it did not change who He was. ”
He finished preaching, trying not to look at Hope too much, but she seemed uncomfortable.
By the end of the service, she was rooted to the spot, tears falling like rain.
Nick left the pulpit and headed quickly to her side. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
Hope leaned against him, sobbing hard.
Nick sat there, not sure what to do. As a pastor he couldn’t just hug her in church, but not holding her seemed wrong. But he couldn’t leave her sobbing in the chapel either. Somehow he got her to her feet and led her into the vestry. He left the door ajar slightly, not wanting to put either of them in a position that he’d only regret later. Perhaps Jack or Carson would see him and come in as well.
Footsteps crossed the steps and the door shut. “Want a hand?” Elliott asked.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said helplessly as Hope sobbed. “I want to hold her…”
“But it’s inappropriate,” Elliott said. “That was a great sermon, by the way.”
“Thanks. I made it up as I went along.”
“Nah, I think God did and you just relayed His message.”
Nick took a deep breath. “Will you pray with us here? Two voices might be better than one.”
Elliott nodded. “Of course.”
“Hope?” Nick put a hand over one of Hope’s and caught his breath as she laced her fingers into his.
“Help me,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to be like this anymore, but I don’t know what to say.”
Nick squeezed her hand. “This is Elliott, one of the elders. We’ll pray with you, is that OK?”
****
Hope nodded. She just wanted this dirty feeling within her to go and wanted to put things right with God.
Elliott started praying and the last vestiges of the dam broke within her.
Then Nick prayed.
She echoed his words in her heart. Finally, she prayed, her voice stumbling through her tears. She had no idea how long she sat there crying, but a sense of peace filled her before she looked up. “Thank you.”
Nick smiled. “Welcome.”
“I feel better than I have in a long time.”
“Good.”
Elliott pulled out his wallet. “I have something for you. My fiancée is looking after Angel. DI Holmes has been touching base with us a lot and said you’d be here this morning. And when Nick called you Hope just now, I figured it must be you. She took this photo yesterday, and we wanted you to have it.”
Hope took the photo, and glanced down. Angel sat under the Christmas tree. She held a handwritten sign saying ‘I luv you Mummy.’
“Angel made the sign herself,” Elliott said. “She’s always asking after you and praying for you.”
Tears filled Hope’s eyes again. “I miss her so much.”
“Just like your family misses you,” Nick said. “Nine years is a long time.”
“I miss them too,” she whispered. “If I could go to Ely I would, but who knows where they are now?”
Elliott touched her hand. “I’ll speak to Nate on my way out, and ask him to tell them you’re safe. Their reaction might surprise you.”
Hope looked at him and then at Nick. As Nick smiled and nodded, she turned back to Elliott. “OK, thank you.”
Nick grinned. “After all. Christmas is a time for families and miracles. And we’ve already had one today, who’s to say we can’t have another?”
13
After dinner, Hope listened to the Christmas carols playing with a new ear.
Nick and Pastor Jack were in the study.
Lara was playing with the play people nativity set, while the baby slept and Cassie made a drink in the kitchen.
Hope glanced over at the window. The snow was falling again. Would it last until Christmas? That was only another four days. Where would she be then?
Cassie handed her a mug of hot chocolate, topped with cream and a candy cane sticking out of the side. “Try this for size. Lara calls this a melted snowman.”
“Thank you.” Hope inhaled deeply as the scent and sight took her right back to when she was seven. “We used to call this snowman soup.”
Snow lay thick on the ground, the whole town caught unawares by the sudden early snowfall. It was the beginning of December and it didn’t usually snow until January. Hope ran home from school trying to keep pace with her brother and two sisters. She knew without looking in a mirror that her cheeks would look like Grace’s—red and glowing, her eyes bright and sparkling and her breath freezing as it left her mouth.
Rick climbed over the back gate and jumped, landing feet first like a cat. “Come on you lot,” he called.
Hope climbed the gate and jumped. She landed flat on her back to the sound of her brother’s laughter. Winded, she lay there for a moment. Then she poked her tongue at him and made snow angels. Grace and Faith joined her. Rick, too old for such nonsense, just stood and watched.
Jumping up, Hope ran, laughing and breathless, after Rick to the house. They came to the back door and banged on it, stamping the snow off their shoes.
Mum opened the door. “Oh, look. Rick brought home three snow women for tea,” she said, a huge grin on her face. “I suppose you’d better come in.”
“I found them in the garden,” Rick answered. “They were making snow angels.”
“And Rick jumped the gate.”
“So did you.”
“You told me to.”
“OK, wet coats off and into the kitchen with you. I’ll make you something to warm yourselves up with.”
The four of them ran into the kitchen and climbed up on the chairs by the table.
“Ooh Christmas biscuits,” Rick said taking one and giving his sisters one, too.
“Yes... just don’t eat them all. I would like some left for the group meeting tonight.”
“Does this mean the tree’s going up soon?”
“Not yet. Once term has finished, perhaps.” Mum poured the milk into the pan to heat and hung their wet coats by the stove to dry.
Hope fidgeted with excitement as her mother got out the chocolate buttons and the marshmallows. “Are we having snowman soup?” she asked.
Mum nodded, making the hot chocolate. Then she added the chocolate buttons and marshmallows. She slid a cup in front of each.
“Where are the candy canes?” Four voices chorused in unison.
Mum laughed, reached into the drawer and pulled out four. “Here.”
“Yay!” Hope yelled happily. She took the candy cane, dipped it into the hot chocolate, and then sucked it vigorously. “Yummy.”
“The rest of the candy canes are to be hung on the tree,” Mom said.
Hope laughed, knowing full well that half of them would end up in snowman soup before the tree was even up.
Nick sat beside her. “You look miles away.”
“Just thinking about when I was little. Maybe I should write to my family, but I don’t know how to start or who to write to. I mean, they could be all over the country. Do I write different letters? The same one four times over, or what should I do?”
“Just write to your parents,” Nick said. “They can pass the message on, or maybe they’re all together for Christmas.”
“OK.” She looked down at the notebook on her lap. Dear Mum and Dad…
Pastor Jack came in. “Nate just brought this over for Hope.” He held out a large padded envelope, stuffed full of something. “And there is your photo back as well.”
Hope frowned. “For me?
”
“It has your name on it.”
She looked at it. There were no postmarks or stamps and no return address. But it was her name. “Who’s it from?”
“Only way to find out is to open it.”
She looked back at the writing. And her heart stopped. Her tummy flipped and she swallowed hard, almost dropping the package as her hands went numb and cold. “It’s Dad’s writing.” With trembling fingers, she opened the seal and tipped ten years’ worth of birthday and Christmas cards into her lap.
“I’ll go,” Nick said.
Hope grabbed his hand. “Stay…” She picked up a letter and unfolded it.
Her hands shook too much to hold it, her eyes too full of tears to focus. “It’s from Mum. Read it to me. I can’t…”
Nick took the paper from her and began reading.
“Our dearest Hope, DI Holmes contacted us last night and said he’d found you. You’ve no idea what that means to us or how happy we are, knowing that you are alive, well and safe. As you can see from all the cards, we never stopped thinking about you or loving you. You are our daughter…”
Nick paused. “There’s a little arrow and someone has added and sister with a smiley face and no matter what anyone says or what you’ve done or think you’ve done, that will never stop us from loving you. As I write this, snow is falling and Faith’s dog, Patches, is sat by the conservatory door barking at it for all he is worth, for daring to land in his garden.
“Grace and Faith are both engaged now, to twin brothers, and are getting married in a double wedding on New Year’s Eve. Rick’s a detective sergeant now in Ely. Although he is off for Christmas and the wedding and also to help the girls move. Faith is moving in with Joel and Elliott is moving in with Grace. They live next door to each other at the moment, so we don’t have to carry boxes and so on very far.
“Faith lost her sight in an accident in May, but having struggled much at first, has now decided she’ll have perfect sight in heaven, so can manage with Patches and Joel’s help until then. I’m not convinced, but…Oh, Rick wants the pen. Here he is.
“Hey, sis—it is I, Rick, the tall serious one who wouldn’t know anything funny if it came up and hit him in the face.” Nick broke off from reading and looked at her, a frown on his face. “I’m assuming that means something to you?”