A Christmas Candle

by Katie Flynn

  They were back at the enormous puddle and Eve skipped round it, giggling. ‘I am trying, really hard,’ she promised. ‘Just you wait and see; me and Connie will get along much better now I know a bit more about her. And you’re right about telling whoppers. We may not all tell downright lies but most of us exaggerate a little. Next time when I’m tempted to challenge her I jolly well won’t.’ She peered anxiously up into Johnny’s freckled face. ‘The truth is that I’ve been jealous of Connie from the start. She’s so pretty!’

  Johnny laughed. ‘She is pretty, isn’t she? But what do looks matter? My dad says it’s character that counts, and he’s right, you know.’

  They reached the farm, and as Johnny led the way across the yard Eve said what was on her mind.

  ‘Do looks really not matter, Johnny? Wouldn’t you like me better if I had golden curls like Chrissie’s? And big blue eyes?’

  Johnny laughed and pushed open the back door for her. ‘I’d like you just as much if you were plain as a pikestaff,’ he said. ‘And now go and get your beauty sleep and perhaps tomorrow when you get up you’ll have been transformed into Shirley Temple! Goodnight, young Eve.’

  Eve opened her mouth to ask another question, then closed it again. What was the point? She had said she would try to get to know and like Connie and she meant to do just that. She remembered a saying which Mr Trevalyn was fond of quoting. Fine words butter no parsnips, he would say, so she would start this very minute by going upstairs and thanking Connie for keeping an eye on Chrissie. She might even take her up a cup of cocoa as a sort of thank-you present. She was filled with a grim determination both to take Johnny’s advice and to find herself a proper friend in Connie.

  As she stepped into the kitchen several pairs of eyes swung round to stare at her. Mrs Trevalyn and Mrs Smith had come over to join their husbands, and now the four of them were sitting round the green baize card table with mugs of cocoa and Auntie Bess’s ginger biscuits before them. Auntie Bess herself was putting the rest of her baking away in the pantry and her husband, scowling, was filling in one of the interminable ministry forms which seemed to arrive with every post. On the kitchen table was a pile of dead rabbits from which Eve, with a shudder, dragged her eyes. She had no wish to relive the horror of finding the trap, and went straight over to the dresser.

  ‘Has Chrissie been good?’ she asked hopefully. ‘I thought I’d take Connie a mug of cocoa as a thank you. It was lovely to have time to myself just for once. He’s not a bad little boy but he never stops talking.’

  Auntie Bess closed the pantry door behind her and smiled. ‘He’s been very good, but I checked on them five minutes ago and they were both fast asleep, so it wouldn’t do to disturb them.’ She smiled reassuringly at Eve. ‘’Tis time you were in bed yourself, else you’ll be no manner of use in the morning.’

  Chapter Seven

  Despite her busy day, Eve woke early on the following morning. Connie still slumbered, Chrissie was giving little purring snores and the sunshine streaming through the window proved Mr Smith’s weather forecast right. Eve yawned and stretched luxuriously. Lily’s bed was, as usual, empty; Eve, who was often awake before the alarm went off, thought it was Lily’s departure to milk the cows, quiet though she tried to be, that woke her.

  If she was awake before Lily left she usually got up as well, because she loved the early milking. She was becoming increasingly adept with the cows and Lily often told her what a help she was. Lily was always kind but she was truthful, too, so Eve valued her praise, and when writing to her parents usually included a reference to her favourite land girl. Today, however, Lily was not on early milking, so Eve slid out of bed and washed as quietly as she could, intending to join her friend for breakfast. She was about to slip through the door when a querulous voice stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Evie! You left me with Connie for ages yesterday. It isn’t school today, is it? Can I come with you? I’ll be ever so quick …’

  Eve sighed, but nodded. ‘Yes, if you like,’ she said resignedly. ‘But I’m not sure what I’ll be doing later, so if I’m busy and you can’t help you’ll have to find some way to amuse yourself, all right?’

  But Chrissie was already at the washstand dipping his flannel into the cold water and rubbing enthusiastically at his small, rosy face. True to his word he was soon ready and brother and sister went down to the kitchen, where Auntie Bess, no doubt having heard them coming, had already got the porridge dished out. Lily smiled a greeting over her own portion, and presently they were joined by Miriam and Uncle Reg, and a few minutes later by Mr Smith, who often popped in to talk over farming matters and to have a share of the porridge which he vowed and declared was a good deal better than that which his wife made.

  Chrissie was the first to finish. He scraped up the last spoonful of porridge, slid off his chair, and tugged urgently at Eve’s sleeve.

  ‘You did say I could come with you today, didn’t you, Evie?’ he said, and Eve, smiling down at him, thought she read desperation in his expression.

  ‘Of course I did,’ she said. She lowered her voice. ‘What’s the matter, Chrissie? Don’t say Connie was unkind to you?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ Chrissie said. ‘Only I got a secret. Can we walk down the lane? Then I’ll tell you what I done. Did, I mean.’

  ‘Right,’ Eve said, making up her mind. ‘When we’ve done our chores we’ll walk to the village and see if we can buy some sweets. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  Before they set off to start their chores Eve ran upstairs to the attic to ask Connie whether she wanted to come to the village with them. She was not surprised, however, when Connie moaned ‘No ta’ and burrowed deeper beneath her blankets. The other girl frequently spent a couple of hours in bed when she was neither working on the farm nor due at school, so her refusal was typical; Eve only wondered how she could bear to waste her time in such a way. She was about to go downstairs again when another thought struck her. She had wanted to thank Connie for looking after Chrissie; if she did Connie’s chores as well as her own Connie might lie in bed until lunchtime. She made the suggestion somewhat tentatively, half expecting a rebuff, but Connie opened her eyes and actually smiled.

  ‘That would be grand,’ she said gratefully. ‘Thanks, Eve.’

  So when Eve descended the stairs she felt she had made a good start in her efforts to get along with Connie, and with Chrissie’s help the chores were done in no time. They took the eggs they had collected back to the kitchen and reported to Auntie Bess, who reminded them to be back in time for lunch and waved them off quite cheerfully.

  It was a fine day, the sunshine dappling the lane with leaf shadows, but Chrissie, who normally ran ahead shouting back comments to anyone who would listen, was, Eve thought, more subdued than usual. She remembered that he had begged her not to leave him behind and wondered what had happened to make him reluctant to stay in the house with Auntie Bess. He had said something about a secret; no doubt she would find out what was on his mind in the fullness of time.

  When they reached the bridge he went and stood in the middle of it and Eve assumed he wanted to play the three billy goats gruff. Sometimes he took the part of the troll and sometimes he was the biggest billy goat, but on this occasion it seemed he only wanted to talk. When Eve would have pretended to dodge past him he grabbed her sleeve, shaking his head when she tried to get free.

  ‘Hang on, Evie,’ he said urgently. ‘I want to tell you my secret. You know Connie took me back to bed before you came home last night?’

  ‘Yes, of course I know. Auntie Bess thought you wouldn’t like it because the men had to kill the rabbits and rats that were hiding in the last of the corn. Not for fun: meat is scarce because of the war, and you know how you love Auntie Bess’s rabbit pie; and as for the rats, they eat the corn that’s meant for the farm animals, so in a way it’s a sort of competition. Can you understand that? No one wanted you to be upset, so you went back to the farm whilst Johnny and I had a bit of a walk aroun
d. And since Connie had said she’d keep an eye on you I knew you’d be all right. She wasn’t unkind to you, was she?’

  Chrissie shook his curly head. ‘No, but she fell asleep all hunched up under the covers whilst I was still awake and it was still daylight outside so I thought I’d come and find you. I put on my blue dungarees, my wellingtons and my jacket and sneaked out of the back door without anyone seeing me. I went back to the field where they were cutting the corn, but I didn’t see you and the men were making such a hullabaloo that no one even noticed me, and just as I was thinking I’d best get back to the farm before it got really dark a rabbit bolted out of the hedge practically into my arms. It didn’t even try to escape when I pushed it into my jacket. It knew I was a friend, Evie, and when a couple of farmhands from Spindlebush came crashing after it and asked if I’d seen which way it had run I just shook my head. It was hurt, Evie. There was blood on his foot so I carried him back to the farmyard because I knew there was a big old cardboard box there, and shut him inside it. I fetched hay from the barn so he’d have somewhere nice to lie down and then I carried the box as far as I could, which was’ – he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the woodland – ‘in there, in one of those clearings where the grass and the weeds are as high as my waist.’ He looked guiltily at Eve. ‘And I stole two big handfuls of grain, because rabbits must like it, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Oh yes, definitely,’ Eve said. ‘But Chrissie darling, you really shouldn’t go wandering around the woods on your own. Last night, Johnny and I found a rabbit in a trap down by the stream. We told Uncle Reg and he’s taken the trap to the police, because he wants to find out who set it so he can order them off his land.’

  Chrissie looked stricken. ‘Was it a big rabbit with a white bobble tail?’

  Eve shook her head. ‘No, it was only a baby; I’m sure your rabbit would have been quite happy with the hay. Only you can’t keep him in that box. You must let him go to be with his brothers and sisters. He’ll feel like a prisoner in even the biggest box; it’s freedom he’ll want before everything. So let’s go and find him and take him back to his own place, where he can live a happy and free life like all the other wild rabbits.’

  She looked hopefully at her small brother but was not really surprised when he looked earnestly up into her face. ‘I want him for my own pet. People do keep rabbits as pets; one of the boys in my class at school has a white one with pink eyes, so why shouldn’t I have a nice brown one which is just my friend and no one else’s?’

  Eve sighed. She thought of all the complications which keeping a rabbit would bring in its wake. Feeding it would be easy and cleaning the cage would be Chrissie’s responsibility, but she could just imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth which would follow if a fox or Shep the sheepdog fancied a plump caged rabbit for his dinner. Yet how could she deny her little brother the chance to have his own pet? Choosing her words carefully, she said, ‘We can talk about that when we’ve found him. But honestly, Chrissie, I don’t think you can expect the Favershams to welcome another responsibility. Auntie Bess is ever so kind – Uncle Reg too – but they’ve got a lot on their plates at the moment. So don’t get your hopes too high.’ She indicated the three tiny narrow paths which led into the woodland and eventually through it to the forestry. ‘Which way?’

  Chrissie took her hand and began to tow her along the little track which led off to the left, plunging on to another little path and then another. Finally they came to a clearing where grass and weeds forced their way up in competition with a great many saplings, and Chrissie came to a stop.

  ‘It’s here, by that big patch of brambles,’ he said, and Eve recognised the hope in his voice. ‘I remember those brambles because Auntie Bess said she’d make us bramble jelly if we’d pick the berries for her. I pushed the box well into cover.’ He bent and peered at the luxurious growth, then straightened and turned towards his sister. ‘He’s gone!’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘The box is here but the rabbit’s gone. He must’ve tipped the box over and escaped.’ He gulped, but then he added bravely, ‘And I’m glad, because it must mean that he was strong enough to get back to the field and find his friends, and he’ll be happier with them than with me. It’s best for wild animals to live in the wild, isn’t it, Evie?’

  Eve looked at her brother with admiration. How could I have been so blind as to not realise how he’s changed, she asked herself. He isn’t a baby any more. ‘Yes, it is, darling. And now we must get back because you know Auntie Bess is really strict about mealtimes,’ she reminded him. She held out a hand to take his, then saw the look on his face and hastily withdrew it.

  He smiled. ‘Thank you for coming to find the box with me,’ he said. ‘I feel a lot better now I know he’s safe in the field.’

  ‘Evie, you’ll never guess!’ Chrissie said excitedly. ‘Auntie Bess told me that Mummy and Daddy are coming for a visit in a couple of weeks – the same weekend as Lily’s birthday – so I asked Auntie Bess if we could have a party that weekend and she said yes. Colin can’t come, of course, because he’s teaching flying abroad, but Mummy and Daddy will be there, and the Spindlebush lot, and I’m going to help Auntie Bess make a birthday cake for Lily and lots of other things for a really special tea …’

  Auntie Bess was at the sink washing up the breakfast things so Eve picked up a tea towel and began to dry the china and cutlery. ‘That’s a fantastic idea, Chrissie,’ she said. ‘Tell you what, if you go on being so clever I think we might ask Auntie Bess if we can go into town and choose a present for Lily: something pretty, or some scented soap, if we can find any; Lily always smells lovely.’

  Auntie Bess turned from the sink to inform them that the Armstrongs would enjoy the party, but Eve had her doubts. She knew her mother’s idea of a birthday treat would be a film show in a real cinema, and thought she might greet the idea of a party tea with something less than enthusiasm. But when she put her fear to her father in one of her letters his reply was immediate and cheerful.

  So long as it doesn’t rain I’m sure Mummy will make a big effort and come to the farm for Lily’s birthday tea, he replied. Remember, darling, Mummy is a Londoner through and through, but she’s really looking forward to seeing you both and I’m sure she’ll tuck in with the rest of us.

  ‘I’ll tell Mummy how disappointed we would be if she didn’t come,’ she told Chrissie, having read the letter aloud. ‘After all, this is Lily’s birthday party, and I know Mummy’s very fond of Lily. Everyone is.’

  The weather had been good for so long that when Eve woke on the morning of the surprise party to find a fine drizzle falling on the window she could scarcely believe it. How could fate be so cruel? She had said her prayers every night for a week because she knew it meant a lot to Chrissie to have his mother with them. She herself had been extra specially good, helping Auntie Bess in every way she possibly could and doing her maths homework without pestering Johnny to check her answers; a considerable sacrifice, for he was much better at arithmetic than she and she knew how pleased both Mummy and Daddy would be if her homework merited a star.

  However, even though it was raining now it might not be raining by the time their parents set off for the farm. Daddy had arranged to borrow a car from a friend and had assured them gaily, in his latest letter, that their mother would feel like a princess being conveyed on a magic carpet to Drake’s Farm.

  ‘There will be plum pie and ice cream because Auntie Bess promised,’ Chrissie remarked now, scrubbing at his hands and face in the nice cool water which Eve had fetched up in its jug and poured into the basin. ‘When will you put your party dress on, Evie? I’m going to wear my new shirt, my school trousers and the shoes with the laces, because Mummy likes her boy to look smart.’

  Eve giggled; sometimes Chrissie was so grown up that when he reverted to baby speak it always made her laugh.

  ‘Evie, I said when are you going to put on your party dress?’

  She sobered. ‘Never, unfortunately,’ she sai
d ruefully. ‘It was too tight under the arms the last time I put it on in London, and now I can’t even get it over my head, so I’ll be wearing the only other respectable dress I own, which is my blue gingham school one.’ She looked across the room to where her small brother was examining himself critically in Lily’s mirror. ‘But I don’t think you ought to wear your school trousers, because birthday parties aren’t really posh occasions,’ she went on. ‘Didn’t Auntie Bess say we should wear our oldest things, because Johnny and Robbo will want to play what Mummy would call nasty rough games and we’re bound to get dirty, especially if it goes on raining?’

  ‘If it goes on raining we shan’t be playing out of doors,’ Chrissie said unhappily. ‘If it goes on raining there won’t be a party, not a proper one. I was going to show Mummy the pond we’re digging out to give the ducks somewhere nice and big when they come for a swim.’ He sighed deeply, then went to the open window and looked anxiously up at the grey clouds scudding across the sky. ‘Oh, Evie, I did so want nice weather, because Mummy hardly ever comes to the farm and I want her to learn to love it, like we do. Only she won’t if it rains, because whatever we wear Mummy will wear something smart and she’ll be afraid the rain will spoil it.’ He sighed again. ‘In her last letter she said she was bringing a present for Lily, which she wouldn’t have said if she didn’t mean to come, but if she decides not to because it’s raining … oh, Evie, I’ll be soooooo disappointed …’