A December to Remember (79)
Now that it was dark, the effect of Joe’s lighting display and the snow was magical. Appreciative gasps ran through the crowd, with arms full of edible garlands and baubles, as they chose trees to decorate. Miss Radley began to sing Christmas carols and soon everyone joined in as they worked. The rowan tree woods were alive with the tinkle of laughter and voices raised in song.
Children hung bird feeders on the branches they could reach, while the adults draped the garlands over the higher limbs. The WI brought a supply of gingerbread stars hanging from garden twine and added them to the crates of decorations, along with strings of dried orange slices studded with star anise.
“We made extra,” said Betty, eyeing a boy in a bobble hat who had just devoured a star, “to ensure that at least some of them make it onto the trees.”
“Thank you, Betty. You’ve done so much to help.” Maggie felt herself welling up at the scene before her, their little woods alive with activity.
“Oh, pish!” Betty batted away the thanks. “If I’ve said it once I’ve said it till I’m blue in the face: we’re a community; help will always be offered if you’d only ask.”
* * *
“Ah, good, there you are!” Gerry Myers said, intercepting Maggie on her way to see how Verity was getting on. “Now, I’m sure you know about the Rowan Thorp Twitchers.”
Everybody knew about the Rowan Thorp Twitchers; the local birdwatching group had hides set up in fields and groves surrounding the village. As well as rigorously keeping score of the common birds they spotted and being deeply competitive about documenting the rarer varieties, the hides were well known to double as places the twitchers could explore their naturism tendencies.
“Yes.” Maggie couldn’t quite keep eye contact with Gerry.
“What we’d like to do is set up a couple of bird cams here in the woods, so that we can watch the birds and mammals enjoying the feeders in real time. We thought we could stream it live on our webcast so that the whole village could enjoy the fruits of their labors.” He snorted at his own joke. “It’ll be educational for the kiddies and great for us twitchers. We thought we’d call it Bird Brother!” He snorted again. “Do you get it? Like Big Brother but with birds! What do you say?”
Maggie recalled her afternoon of bliss with Joe in the tent of intent. There’d be no more of those shenanigans if the twitchers were live streaming the woods for all to see. And then she remembered that the tent of intent had been donated to the great tarpaulin sewing bee and smiled.
“It sounds like a brilliant idea,” she said. Everyone had been so kind, and Parminder and Gerry had been especially generous by supplying them with their homemade cider for the wassail. The least they could do was let them pop a couple of cameras up. “I’ll have to check with Star, since she’s living here at the moment, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
She was fairly sure Star had grown out of her naked outdoor yoga phase, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.
“No need,” blustered Gerry, slapping her on the back with a meaty hand. “I’ll do the honors.” And he strode off in search of Star.
* * *
By seven o’clock every last decoration had been hung, draped, and balanced, and everyone stood back to admire their handiwork. The effect of the bejeweled trees was one of majestic abundance. Every tree was festooned in a cornucopia of edible adornments, every branch dripped with fruit and nut embellishments, gingerbread pendants, and popcorn necklaces. It was a feast for the eyes as well as for the woodland critters, and Maggie wondered why they’d never thought to do it before. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt as connected to her community as she had done these last few days. It made the idea of having to leave at the end of January even more of a wrench.
The little crowd began to thin. Parents shepherded tired children home for cocoa and bedtime stories, while others headed back for well-earned glasses of wine and perhaps some last-minute present wrapping. There was a feeling of bonhomie in the air as neighbors and friends called cheery goodbyes.
Joe appeared carrying Verity, her arms tight around his neck, her legs clamped about his waist. Patrick walked beside them.
“Verity,” Maggie scolded lightly. “I’ve told you, you’re too big to make Joe carry you.”
“But I’m tired and my feet are cold. Joe doesn’t mind, do you, Joe?”
“Far be it from me to make you walk on cold ground,” he said good-naturedly.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “You’ll give yourself a hernia,” she warned. But he only laughed.
“I’ll sling you over the other shoulder if you’re not careful.”
“You are a glutton for punishment,” Patrick joked, and Joe laughed with him.
The thought was in her head before she could check it: We sound like a family.
* * *
“What’s going on with you and Duncan?” Simone asked in a low voice.
“Nothing,” said Star.
“Don’t give me that. A few days ago, you two were making gooey eyes at each other, which I might add was making me feel a bit sick, and now you’re acting like polite strangers. Have you had a fight?”