THREE Christmas Stories 2024

STORIES for CHRISTMAS  by Agnès Grey

 

LAST CHRISTMAS  – this story is set in Northumberland, near Alnwick

We should not have gone to the Fergusons’ that night. It’s not as though they were close friends or anything. I did try – a bit half-heartedly, I admit – to put Angus off.

‘They only asked us to make up the numbers,’ I said. 

Angus was straining to fasten a button; he’d put on a bit of weight since last Christmas. He pulled out the blue silk tie, held it up and considered it. He turned his shirt collar up.

‘Ah, Christmas,’ he said, looking into the mirror. He tied the knot and edged it up. ‘You like Christmas.’

‘There’ll be nobody there. All this snow …’

I didn’t want to meet new people. I wanted Angus and me to stay exactly as we were.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘where did I put that jacket?’

Angus sorted through the line of suits and jackets that hung limply in his side of the wardrobe.

‘There it is, on the bed,’ I said. I’d watched him laying out the jacket ready earlier.

He was fixing the tie-pin.

‘That straight?’ he said.

He squinted at himself in the mirror, turned slightly sideways, made a minor adjustment, smoothed his hair down. It was starting to go thin. He picked up the jacket, shook it, and put it on. He tugged the shirt cuffs down to just below the jacket sleeves.

‘Mustn’t be late,’ he said, as he picked up his Rolex, looked at it, and went out of the room, stretching the strap over his left hand as he went.

It took an hour and a half to get there, the roads were so bad. Normally it would have taken thirty minutes at most. The snow-ploughs had been out and there were great heaps of snow on either side. More thick flakes were falling. Angus was perched over the steering wheel, frowning into the falling snow. The wipers swoosh swoosh swooshed clods of it away.

‘What if we meet something, I mean coming the other way … ?’ I started to say.

‘Thank God for 4×4,’ Angus said, checking the gear.

‘But if something comes … you won’t be able to back up, not in the dark … there’s only room for …’

‘Must concentrate,’ he said, gripping the wheel more tightly.

The Fergusons were new to the area. They’d bought the big house at Callaly, the one that used to be Grandpa Kennedy’s. They’d got a bargain. People said the house was haunted, that no-one would buy it. But that was pure prejudice and the fact that Grandpa Kennedy had kept himself to himself, didn’t like nosey parkers. When Grandpa Kennedy died, it turned out there was nothing left but debt, and Mr Ferguson had moved quickly. It was said he’d had his eye on it, that he’d been hovering like the proverbial vulture, waiting to get his claws in. The deal was done before anyone realised what was happening.

            It wasn’t long, though, before the Fergusons – for all they’d got the house, and for all their wealth and everything – weren’t getting along, or so it was said. The wife – Camilla –  apparently she detested the North East, couldn’t stand the people, couldn’t bear the weather, was bored half to death out in the sticks. And him, he was always away off somewhere, with ‘business.’ I could see Camilla was trying hard to keep up appearances – hence the party, a tradition even Grandpa Kennedy had been obliged to respect, despite his inclinations for privacy and quiet. But the folk round here weren’t that easily fooled. They don’t belong, people said, those Fergusons, and it’ll serve them right when it all goes belly up, just you watch.

            ‘So what, what if he is self-made?’ Angus had dared to say in the pub one night. ‘What of it? You’ve got to have some respect for the man!’ His contribution to the conversation that night was met with a stony silence. People were starting to think Angus himself had a bit too much ‘respect’ for money, was getting too big for his own boots.

I’d seen Camilla, out and about in Alnwick. She was tall and slim, always well made up, nicely dressed, Barbour jacket, kept horses, drove a Saab convertible. When they first came, Angus said I should make friends with her. You like horses, he’d said, why not invite her round. I didn’t think she looked nice at all. Not be-friends-with nice. I could see why men would like her though. When men looked at her, you could see their wives shrinking.

Our invitation to the party had been specially printed. To Mr and Mrs Angus Armstrong, it said, and the address, on the envelope, in a fancy font. Inside, a plain cream-coloured card said simply: Mr and Mrs Marcus Ferguson, At Home, CALALY HALL, 24^th December, 8pm.

When Angus got in from work that day the invitation was the first thing he noticed. He picked up the envelope, looked at it and shook his head. He was opening it as he walked into the kitchen. He poured himself two fingers of the Famous Grouse and dribbled a bit of water in from the cold tap. He was drinking more than he used to. Then he propped the card against the sugar bowl that was still on the table from breakfast. He took a slug of the whisky, turned the little TV on with the remote, went over and fiddled a bit with the internal aerial, then pulled up a chair and sat down like he’d had a long day.

‘That’ll be nice,’ he said, looking at the card. ‘A Christmas party. Up at the Fergusons’.’

He lit a cigarette, drained the whisky glass and got up to pour another.

The snow got worse as we left Alnwick and began the long climb up onto the moor. A few cars had been abandoned in the verges and were already up to the tops of their wheels in snow.

‘What if we can’t get home?’ I said.

Up on the top, a blizzard was blowing. There were big drifts on either side of the road. Angus was taking it slowly, but even so, the Discovery was having trouble gripping.

‘It’s a White Christmas!’ said Angus. ‘Eskimos have a hundred and one different words for snow.’ He changed down another gear and put the hot fan on louder to clear the windscreen which was steaming up.

‘Inuit,’ I said.

When we reached the Hall there were lots of cars, mostly 4x4s, parked at all angles along the road. Angus pulled up beside the big iron gates. The drive was thick with snow; lots of footprints, but no tyre marks. Angus yanked on the handbrake and got out. ‘It’ll be alright here’, he said. The locks clicked shut and the lights flashed twice.

‘My shoes,’ I said.

            We walked up the long, curving driveway, lit all along with strings of little dancing lanterns.

‘Ah, lovely. Christmas Eve,’ Angus said.

I could hear the sigh in his voice. I think we were both trying to forget what had happened last Christmas, and all the hard times there had been in between. Angus’s shoes crunched into the snow. At the turn in the drive, the big house loomed out of the darkness, a mass of sparkling lights.

‘Bit different from when old man Kennedy …’ Angus said.

I hadn’t wanted to come here, but now I was beginning to feel the old draw of the place and it wasn’t unpleasant. I kept on telling myself it was alright, alright to move on, to put the past behind you and to leave it there. Angus pulled the bell at the big studded front door which had a wreath of holly with some red satin ribbons in the middle. The bell clanked inside, its familiar clank. Nobody came.

‘It can’t be that late.’ Angus checked his watch. He stamped his feet to get the snow off then pulled the bell again, harder. This time a woman dressed as a maid opened the door.

‘Come in,’ she said, ‘Mr ….?’

‘Armstrong,’ Angus interrupted, ‘Angus Armstrong. I’m afraid I didn’t think to bring the invitation.’

We followed the maid into the wide hallway, passed a huge Christmas tree decorated with glass balls and tiny sparkling white lights. Garlands of holly were roped around the edge of the gilded mirror above the inglenook where big logs hissed in the flames. I could smell wood-smoke, mulled wine and cigars, hear the hum of voices coming from open doors on every side. Someone was playing the piano, Debussy’s Snowflakes. The door of Grandpa Kennedy’s study was the only door that was shut. In the vast hall, the crystal pendants of the Venetian chandelier swayed gently, catching the light, making little rainbow patterns on the walls.

‘What a place!’ Angus said, as though he’d never set foot in here before, or perhaps he was just reminding himself. The maid ushered us to the cloakroom.

            ‘Coats are in here,’ she said, addressing Angus but ignoring me, acting like I didn’t matter. There was another sign pointing up the stairs to the Ladies’ Cloakroom. I left Angus hanging up his coat and went up the wide carpeted staircase that branched into two galleried landings at the top. It was just like I remembered; the bust of old Josiah Kennedy on a marble plinth, the portraits of my ancestors in their thick gilt frames, the faded tapestry depicting the Exodus. All still there, even though none of them had anything to do with the Fergusons. I wondered what Angus would have to say about that.

            At the top of the staircase the door into my old room swung open before I reached it. Nothing had changed. The four-poster bed and the matching dark wood furniture, the little desk, the curtains of heavy gold brocade, the tassels along the pelmet. I hung my coat up in the big oak wardrobe and the familiar smell of lavender and old wood surrounded me. I went to the window and pulled back the curtains and secured them with their stays of twisted braid. I heaved open the oak shutters and folded them back and looked out across the garden; the cedar tree, its great limbs stretching out black across the snow covered lawn. In the moonlight I watched a little girl, swinging to and fro, to and fro, her hands gripping tightly onto the ropes that hung from the tree, her ankles crossed, her hair flying out behind her. The swing creaked rhythmically. I tore myself away and went downstairs.

I couldn’t find Angus anywhere. I looked in all four of the large rooms that were open. I went into the kitchen. Into the conservatory. I went from one to the other a second time, a third time. Angus was nowhere.

In each of the rooms people were standing around in small groups, talking, smiling, laughing, champagne glasses or little pewter mugs in their hands. Some of the men were smoking cigars and throwing their heads back, exhaling clouds of smoke. In the drawing room, a black Labrador and a border terrier were sprawled in front of the fire. When it saw me, the Labrador pricked up its ears and slapped its tail lazily a few times; it half got up, but then lay back down and rested its head on its paws and watched me. No-one else seemed interested in me and I recognised no-one. This wasn’t my crowd. Where was Angus? I thought of asking someone, but chances were no-one would know who Angus was. Someone said what a pity it was that Marcus had had to miss his own party, and wasn’t Camilla a brick.

In the kitchen, there was the old oak table, spread with festive food – a big turkey, two hams, a side of salmon. People were piling up their plates and eating with silver forks that had our family crest on. They were talking and laughing and mopping at their mouths between sentences with pure white damask napkins that matched the tablecloth. There was a smell of cloves and oranges. On the far wall, the big black Aga. People were ladling steaming mulled wine from a stock-pot into pewter cups. The muted sounds of the piano came from the music room, the opening bars of Once in Royal David’s City. The clock on the wall said almost midnight. As the hour struck, people put down their plates, topped up their glasses and pushed their way to the music room.

Just as everyone was heading for the music room, I caught sight of Angus. I saw him leaving the kitchen by the other door. His tie was loose and his shirt was half out of his trousers. Camilla was hanging onto the tail of it, champagne slopping in a tall glass in her other hand. I followed the crowd out just in time to see Angus and Camilla crossing the hall at the far side, she still hanging onto his shirt-tail. They went into Grandpa’s study and the door closed loudly behind them. Camilla was giggling, but she stopped abruptly and for a moment there was quiet. Then, the clock finished striking and, from the music room, the house was filled with singing.

I knew that the moment I lost Angus, I would lose myself.   

Somehow I made it to the dining room. The fire was dying, the last embers smouldering in the grate. The grandfather clock watched me from its moon face, its pendulum glinting in the candlelight. Through the French windows, the black of night, the white of snow, and the creak creak creak of the swing in the cedar tree. 

            The singing stopped and people started leaving. I stood watching them through the French doors saying their goodbyes, hugging, wishing each other a Happy Christmas, wandering off down the drive in twos and threes, waving and blowing kisses as they parted company and went their separate ways. I heard car engines starting, wheels moving, muffled by the snow.

I waited for Angus just across from the front door. He was the last to leave. He came out in his shirt-sleeves, holding up his jacket, he was patting the pockets, feeling for the car keys. He seemed to have left his overcoat in the house. Camilla was standing on the top step, her hair adrift now from its pins.

“Ring me tomorrow,” she was saying, “first thing, you won’t forget, promise?”

“Promise,” he said. Now he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “I promise,” he said again.

Then I was running across the lawn, running through the snow, stumbling towards the gates. I saw Angus walking briskly down the driveway. He was carrying his jacket and swinging the car keys and whistling as he walked, Hark the Herald Angels Sing … Angus never whistled. His hair was all messed up. When he reached the corner he looked back and waved at Camilla. She was still at the door, waving back at him in the flickering lights. She kept on waving until he turned the corner. Angus passed me at the gate, still whistling as he got into the car.

I looked back at the house across the empty expanse of snowy lawn I had run across only moments before. Even before I looked, I knew there would be no footprints, that my feet had left no mark. The snow was as smooth as if it had only just fallen. I went over to the cedar tree and sat down on the swing. I held onto the ropes and I crossed my ankles and I swung and swung as high as I could make it go. The lights went off in the house, one by one, and all the twinkling lanterns in the garden, and the moon and all the stars.

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for children, a Pink Monkey story, set on the Northumberland coast near Embleton, and also mention the Holy Island of Lindisfarne

PINK MONKEY’S BIG CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE

It was Christmas Eve and Pink Monkey was supposed to be tucked up in his cot. Only he wasn’t in his cot. He wasn’t there when Maddy looked. And he still wasn’t there when Barney came to look.

            ‘Where d’you think he is?’ said Barney.

            Maddy shrugged. ‘Search me,’ she said, ‘you know what Pink Monkey’s like. He could be anywhere!’ Maddy jumped into bed and pulled the covers up under her chin. ‘I expect he’ll be back in a minute.’

Barney got into his bed at the other side of the room.

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘Pink Monkey wouldn’t miss the hot chocolate for anything!’

            ‘Or the STORY!’ said Maddy.

            It was a long-standing tradition in the Webber family for Mummy to make hot chocolate and for Daddy to read The Night Before Christmas once the stockings had been hung up by the fire. This year was bit unusual, however, because the Webber family were not in their usual house. They were spending Christmas in Northumberland in a cosy little cottage by the sea.

Pink Monkey loved Christmas. He loved the Christmas Eve story, and the hot chocolate; Barney and Maddy agreed it was most unusual for him to go AWOL at this stage of the proceedings.

             The cottage was very old and very tiny, but it was warm and cosy and when you climbed on the box and looked out the attic window you could see for miles and miles and miles across the sea. Close by was the Holy Island of Lindisfarne, where puffins lived and saints were buried, and there was a lighthouse with a light that turned and turned all night long, casting its bright beam across the sea like a searchlight, to warn sailors there were rocks nearby. Every minute the long white beam swept around the bay and its light criss-crossed the bedroom wall. The place was magical and the children loved it. It was very odd indeed that Pink Monkey was nowhere to be seen.

            ‘I can’t think where Pink Monkey’s got to ….’ said Maddy. She’d been sitting up in bed worrying about him; Pink Monkey was a Monkey gifted with not very much sense and rather too much of a taste for adventure.

            Just then, Mummy came up the stairs to see if the children were ready for the The Night Before Christmas story.

            ‘Pink Monkey’s disappeared,’ Maddy and Barney told her. ‘We can’t find him anywhere.’

‘Oh I think he’s just nipped out. He went out to the shed to see if he could find a star for the top of the Christmas tree,’ Mummy said. ‘He should be back any minute.’

            ‘Why do we need a star for the tree?’ said Barney. ‘There’s already an angel on the top.’

            ‘Because,’ Daddy said, sounding very serious, ‘the angel has mysteriously disappeared from the top of the tree. In fact, I was going to ask you guys if you had moved her …’

            Barney and Maddy shook their heads. Neither of them had touched the angel. Things were starting to feel just a bit suspicious, like anything could happen. Perhaps the angel had flown away … It was Christmas after all … and Christmas can be magic!

As soon as Mummy and Daddy went back downstairs, Barney jumped out of bed and began pulling his clothes on, on top of his pyjamas.

            ‘Get ready quick Maddy!’ he urged. ‘We’re going to find out exactly where Pink Monkey is and what he’s up to. If I know Pink Monkey, he’ll be getting into a terrible muddle somewhere …’

            ‘My thoughts entirely,’ said Maddy. ‘Let’s check the shed! And if he’s not there, we’ll have to look all the other places where Pink Monkey might have gone to look for a Star …’

            As the words left Maddy’s mouth a terrible realisation occurred to both Maddy and Barney. They both experienced an awful sinking feeling. They looked up into the dark sky where a million trillion silver stars were twinkling.

            ‘Uh oh ….’ said Barney.

            ‘Oh no …’ said Maddy, ‘please don’t tell me Pink Monkey’s gone to try to get one of those Stars …’

            Barney shook his head in disbelief. ‘Surely not …’ he said. ‘But I wouldn’t put anything past Pink Monkey. Maddy, we could have a full scale rescue mission on our hands …’

            ‘OK. On with our Rescue Packs,’ said Maddy.

            ‘Waterproofs?’

            ‘Check.’

            ‘Head-torch?’

            ‘Check.’

            ‘Life-jacket?’

            ‘Check. Off we go!’

            ‘Looks like Pink Monkey’s already taken his Rescue Pack,’ said Barney pointing to the empty hook on the back of the door.

            ‘That says it all!’ Maddy nodded, and the children tiptoed downstairs.

            Daddy and Mummy were sitting by the fire reading books and sipping drinks. They looked up as the children came into the room.

            ‘And where d’you think you’re off to?’ said Daddy, sounding quite serious. ‘It’s a bit late to be going out, don’t you think.’

            ‘Erm … We’re only off to …erm … look at the stars …’ said Maddy.

            ‘And find Pink Monkey …’ said Barney, ‘if we can …’

            ‘Well don’t be long,’ said Mummy, ‘remember it’s nearly time for the story, and I’ll be making the hot chocolate in precisely five minutes.’

            ‘Take your torches,’ said Daddy, ‘and don’t go further than the boat. And come straight back. I don’t want you getting lost on Christmas Eve.’

The children peeked into the shed, but all was still and quiet in there and of course there was no sign of Pink Monkey. They decided to run on down to where the boat was tied up at the beach. Pink Monkey had been eyeing up the little red boat ever since they’d arrived at the cottage; in all likelihood, that’s where he’d be. 

            ‘Hopefully he won’t have any daft notions about rowing the boat out to any of the islands …’ said Barney as they ran out into the night. ‘Hopefully we’ll just find him on the beach, quietly and peacefully searching for a Star …’ But where Pink Monkey was concerned, nothing was ever quiet and peaceful.

The previous night, Pink Monkey had woken up in the middle of the night, he’d jumped up in his cot, tugged aside the curtain and gazed out into the dark. ‘Look at the stars!’ he’d said, ‘just look look LOOK at all those stars!’ Pink Monkey had shrieked with such excitement he’d woken Maddy and Barney up, and the three of them had knelt by the window on the stairs and watched the stars. The more you stared the more your eyes acclimatised to the black night sky and more stars you saw. And last night, as they watched, something very magical had happened.

A star fell right out of the sky!

‘What was that?’ said Pink Monkey.

‘What happened there?’ said Maddy. ‘I could swear I just saw a star fall out of the sky!’

‘So did I! so did I!’ shrieked Pink Monkey. ‘I saw it! It fell into the sea,’ he said.

‘When one falls out of the sky,’ said Barney, ‘it’s called a Shooting Star, and it means you can make a wish. Shut your eyes, quick, make a wish!’

All three of them had closed their eyes and made a Christmas wish.

‘I wish the poor refugees from the Middle East will find a safe place where they can stay and be warm and have food,’ said Pink Monkey.

‘Shhh,’ said Maddy. ‘You’re not supposed to tell anyone what your wish is …’

They had watched for a bit longer but no more stars fell and soon their eyes closed with the kind of tiredness that only children and Pink Monkeys know. When Daddy came to wake them the next morning, there was Maddy and Barney and Pink Monkey piled up together in a tumbled heap, still fast asleep at the top of the stairs.

Now, as the children hurried on in the dark down to the beach, they knew there was every possibility Pink Monkey would try to row the boat out to catch a falling star before it disappeared into the sea …

Away from the bright warmth of the cottage, the sky was black as anthracite, the wind cold and unwelcoming.  The path down to the beach was narrow, windy and bumpy, much worse than they remembered it. The moon was a huge silver disc, bright as anything, and hovering low, just above the sea, lighting up everything with a translucent glow. The children hurried along the sandy path that meandered between the dunes, determined to find Pink Monkey before he got up to any mischief, or any danger …

            But the path to the beach was much longer than the children remembered it. And now the dunes on either side seemed steeper and higher than they had been; now they were dark and towering, and acting like they were trying to close themselves in over the path …

Things seemed to be getting more different by the minute … strange thoughts crossed Maddy’s mind and she had to force herself to focus on finding Pink Monkey. But Barney must have noticed something strange as well because he said,

            ‘I don’t remember it being this far … do you Maddy?’

            ‘Probably because it’s night,’ Maddy said, determined not to be scared.

 ‘You may be right,’ said Barney in a doubtful tone. ‘OK, we’ll keep going, and just hope Pink Monkey’s not too far away.’

Barney and Maddy continued along the narrow path, trying not to pay too much attention to the dark dunes rising menacingly in the moonlight.     

‘Trust Pink Monkey!’ sighed Barney, trying to make light of their predicament. ‘Trust him to disappear in the middle of the night. And on Christmas Eve! He’s a very annoying monkey!’

            The children found some comfort in trying to joke about Pink Monkey’s latest prank. But deep down a much more sinister feeling was beginning to gnaw at them.

            ‘I hope he’s alright,’ said Maddy.

            ‘And I hope we find him quick,’ said Barney. ‘I just hope he hasn’t taken the boat out … because if he has …’

‘Don’t say any more!’ said Maddy putting her hands over her ears. She couldn’t bear to think that Pink Monkey could be lost for ever, adrift in the little red boat on the wide open sea. She just wanted to be snuggled up by the fire at the cottage, having their Christmas story and hot chocolate with Pink Monkey safely cuddled up on the sofa between them.

And just then, as if things couldn’t get any more creepy, the moonlight began to alter. It wasn’t as bright. It wasn’t as clear. Then there was a sort a fuzziness in the glow around the edge of the moon. Barney and Maddy turned their head torches on full beam, but the mist was spreading and thickening and soon everything was fuzzy and there was an eerie feeling in the air.

The fuzzy moonlight cast strange shapes and shadows in the night. Then the mist was so thick you could hardly see through it, and everything was like it was only half there, or a only shadow of itself, and Maddy and Barney couldn’t see where they were going, even the beam from their head torches could not penetrate the fog. They stopped in their tracks, unsure what to do.

            ‘I think we’d better go back,’ said Maddy who was beginning to regret coming out at all.

            ‘I have two thoughts,’ said Barney. ‘First, it’ll be impossible to find our way back, at least until this fog clears. We could easily get lost. You have to admit that path is weird, and it’s not like the path we came on yesterday. It’s transformed into a different path altogether … And second, there’s Pink Monkey. We can’t just abandon him, can we.’

            So, despite the adverse conditions that confronted the children, they decided they had no choice but to forge ahead and do what they had set out to do. Find that annoying disappearing Pink Monkey.

That decision having been made, Barney and Maddy suddenly found themselves on an open expanse of beach. The mist was lifting and the children could see the empty beach stretched out for miles on either side, and the black sea stretched out even further in front of them, it stretched out all the way to the moon that was floating, it seemed, just above the horizon.

Everything was curiously still, so very still. Even the sea was still. It lay there like a big black slab; no waves, not even small ones, no movement of any sort. And even more curiously, there was no sound from anywhere, nothing. Only the big silver disc of the moon glowing in the dark sky, hanging so low you could have reached up and touched it.

‘Where are we?’ said Maddy. ‘This isn’t where we came  yesterday. It’s completely different. And it has a queer feel about it. I’m scared, Barney.’

‘We must have taken the wrong path,’ said Barney. ‘But I don’t see how. We followed that main one. Or I thought we did.’

‘We’re lost,’ said Maddy. She felt like crying, but she held the tears back. She reached out and found Barney’s hand in the darkness and clutched it in her own. ‘What are we going to do, Barney?’

            Not only did this place look unfamiliar, it was dark and eerie and cold, plus there wasn’t a boat in sight, and no sign whatsoever of Pink Monkey.

            ‘The boat’s not here,’ said Barney, echoing Maddy’s doubtful thoughts. ‘Either it’s gone, or we’re in the wrong place,’ he continued, ‘we’ll have to retrace our steps the best we can. Now that the mist’s clearing, we can try to go back the way we came.’

            ‘And forget about Pink Monkey?’ said Maddy.

            ‘Well,’ said Barney, ‘He’s not here, and I don’t see where else we can look. Mummy and Daddy will be sending out a search party for us if we don’t get back …’

            Maddy felt torn in two. She did want to get back to the warm cottage and the story and the hot chocolate. But equally she didn’t want to abandon Pink Monkey in his hour of need. Maddy was about to say as much to Barney when something very strange happened. The mist cleared completely and there appeared before them a silver glistening path across the sea all the way from the moon to the shore; ever widening, the silver path spread itself across the dark sea, edging ever closer to where the children stood.

            Barney and Maddy stared, mesmerised, as the strange glowing path advanced across the sea, they stood still as statues till the glistening moon-path met the sand in the very place where they stood. They looked out across the sea, enchanted.

Who could tell how much time passed as the children stood there on the edge and watched the great moon heave herself higher and higher into the black sky among the millions of twinkling stars.

A sound, a strange unfamiliar sound, brought the children out of their reverie.

            ‘What was that?’ said Maddy.

            ‘I heard something,’ said Barney, ‘but I don’t know what it was.’

            The children stood still, hardly breathing and straining to hear the sound. Yes, there it was again, a rhythmic, repetitive lapping sound, coming from far away, the sound of something dipping in and out of water, and a creak, crack, creak at the same time.

            The children looked and listened. Then they saw a glow, a faint but definite glow, moving across the sea in the distance.

            ‘It’s a boat!’ said Barney, ‘someone’s rowing a boat out there, that’s the oars we can hear creaking and dipping into the water.’

            The children stared out across the sea.

            ‘There it is!’ said Maddy. ‘Look Barney, there it is! Can you see that glow? It’s a boat!’

            In the light of the moon, and sailing right across the silvery moon-path the children saw the little red boat, sailing steadily north, towards Holy Island, they heard the oars dip dip dipping into the water as the boat pulled steadily on.

            ‘Have you got the night binoculars in your Rescue Pack Barney?’

            Barney lost no time in finding the binoculars and focussing them on the small red boat.

            ‘It’s Pink Monkey!’ he said in an alarmed voice. ‘It’s Pink Monkey who’s rowing the boat!’ 

            Maddy took her turn to look through the binoculars. 

            ‘What is Pink Monkey doing?’ she said. ‘He’s not by himself! He’s got people in that tiny little boat!’

            She looked very carefully. ‘I see two people: a man, and a woman. Oh! and there’s a baby! The woman’s holding a tiny tiny baby …’

            ‘Where on earth did Pink Monkey get those people?’ Barney said.

            Taking turns to look through the binoculars, Maddy and Barney watched the little red boat as Pink Monkey rowed steadily closer and closer towards Holy Island.

And when the boat had almost reached the Island, it seemed the children saw the woman stand up, stand up and stretch out her arm; still holding the baby close against her chest, the woman stood up and reached up and plucked from the sky the star that had been guiding the boat, she plucked the star from the sky and she pressed it into Pink Monkey’s palm. And the glow grew very bright, it was a golden glow, and whether it came from the star in Pink Monkey’s hand or from the angelic face of the tiny baby  baby, neither Barney nor Maddy could tell.

There were footsteps on the stairs. It took Maddy and Barney a few moments to re-orient themselves. They were truly surprised to find themselves sitting up in bed, and here was Daddy with the story, and here was Mummy with three cups of hot chocolate.

Barney and Maddy were certain they had been on a Very Important Adventure that night, yet here they were, back in the cottage, back in their beds, on Christmas Eve, and it was as though no time at all had passed … it was like nothing at all had happened … Mummy and Daddy seemed completely unaware that Pink Monkey had been sailing the high seas, completely unaware that their own two children had been wandering lost in the black dark night. The children were beginning to think the whole thing had been a dream, a very peculiar dream.

Barney and Maddy looked across at Pink Monkey’s cot. There he lay, all tucked up and sleeping soundly. His little hand lay on top of the cover, his tiny fingers clutched tight around something. Maddy reached down and gently opened Pink Monkey’s hand. In his palm lay the Star, the beautiful Star and it was glowing a hundred thousands shades of gold and silver. Barney and Maddy stared. They just stood there and stared.

‘Oh look,’ said Mummy, reaching down to take the Star from Pink Monkey’s hand, ‘Pink Monkey found a star for the tree after all …’ But even in his sleep, Pink Monkey’s fingers closed tight around it and he wouldn’t let go.

‘No, Mummy! Don’t touch the star! It’s Pink Monkey’s! Let him keep it! …’ Barney and Maddy said together.

‘We don’t need a star any more anyway,’ Daddy interrupted. ‘The angel on the top of the tree has mysteriously reappeared. Now, the story, where was I? Oh yes, here we are, it was the night before Christmas …’

Later, much later, when Mummy and Daddy had gone back downstairs and the house was Christmas Eve quiet, Maddy and Barney crept out of their beds and went over to Pink Monkey’s cot.

            ‘Tell us what you were doing, out there, in the boat,’ they whispered. ‘Come on, Pink Monkey, we need to know everything!’

            ‘There’s not much to tell,’ said Pink Monkey sleepily. ‘I just wanted to sail down the moon-path to see if I could catch a falling star.’ He said, ‘that’s all, really.’ Pink Monkey shrugged his little shoulders.  ‘And look, I got one,’ he added as an afterthought. Pink Monkey uncurled his fingers and showed them the beautiful star.

            ‘But those people, in the boat, the man and the lady, and the tiny tiny baby, who were those people Pink Monkey?’ Barney insisted.

            Pink Monkey shrugged again. ‘Just travellers,’ he said.  ‘A man and a lady, and their little baby, they were just travellers, looking for somewhere to stay. I helped them. That’s all.’ Pink Monkey snuggled down in his cot, still clutching the star.

‘Have a very Happy Christmas, lovely Pink Monkey,’ Maddy said as she kissed him on his warm furry forehead.

But it was Christmas Eve and Pink Monkey was already fast asleep, already dreaming of new adventures.

 

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for children of any age, this story is set in a magical place

THE LUMINOUS BEAR

Once upon a time, long long ago, there lived a little Luminous Bear. ‘Luminous’ means bright, it means very very bright, so bright, it shines out in the dark. And this little bear was very bright, so bright he could hurt the eyes of anyone who looked at him. As a result, people shaded their eyes from him, or they looked away, or they hid themselves until the little Bear had passed on by. 

Gradually people became afraid of the little Bear, very afraid, so afraid they asked the horrid trolls to drive him out of the village and scare him right away. The nasty trolls chased the Bear with sticks and stones and shouting, they chased him over the fields and up over the wild moor, they chased him to the very edge of the kingdom, they chased him all the way to where the deep dark forest lay.

In the middle of the deep dark forest there was a deep dark cave, and that’s where the trolls said little Luminous Bear had to live, all by himself. His only company was the band of fierce trolls who guarded the entrance to the deep dark cave and made wars with anyone who ever dared come near.

Poor Bear was so very lonely and so very unhappy, he longed to be back above ground in the light and the air. He wanted to be out in the sunshine, where he could see the children playing and hear the birds singing and feel the wind ruffling his fur.

But the trolls who guarded the cave were fierce and they roared with fierceness and they bared their ugly big teeth and their razor-sharp claws to keep little Bear in his place. So it was that the Luminous Bear spent all his days in the prison of the deep dark cave feeling more and more lonely and miserable.

One day, the Queen of the Fairies happened to hear about the poor little Bear who was being kept prisoner in the deep dark cave in the middle of the deep dark forest. She felt very worried she determined to see what she could do to rescue him. It so happened that the Queen of the Fairies knew two children – Maddy and Barney – who were very good at getting people out of all sorts of scrapes and predicaments. The Queen of the Fairies decided to ask Maddy and Barney if they could think of a way of rescuing the little Bear.

‘What he needs,’ the Queen of the Fairies told them, ‘is similar to what we all need, namely a happy situation to live in, where he’ll be appreciated, and where his talent for extreme extra brightness can be put to good use.’

‘I’ve thought of a plan already,’ said Maddy. ‘C’mon Barney, grab your Rescue Pack and let’s get going, we’ve no time to lose. That little Bear needs us to rescue him as quickly as possible.’

So Maddy and Barney strapped on their Rescue Packs to their backs and they set off straight away to the very edge of the kingdom, where the deep dark forest stretches away and away as far as the eye can see.

Now, the deep dark forest on the edge of the inhabited land is full of terrible things, things so terrible that many people who’ve seen them did not live to tell the tale. Monsters of all sorts live there, some with only one giant eye in the centre of their grimey forehead. Slimey things, and oozy things, and spiders with legs that get caught in your hair, and beetles the size of cats.

Remembering these terrible creatures, Maddy and Barney stopped at the edge of the forest. They listened. The forest was strangely silent, not a leaf rustled, not a twig cracked. High in the clear darkness of the sky a  bright moon was shining, lighting the path into the deep dark blackness of the forest.

‘We need to put on our Invisible Suits, Barney,’ said Maddy. ‘That way, at least the monsters won’t be able to see us.’

Maddy and Barney opened their Rescue Packs, took out their Invisible Suits and put them on.

‘We’ll still see the monsters,’ said Barney. ‘We’ll have to be really brave when we see all those horrible creatures lurking in the murky dismal …’

‘Yes,’ said Maddy. ‘We’ll have to remember we’re completely safe from all those monsters as long as we’ve got our Invisible Suits on. However hideous the monsters look, they can’t do us any actual harm in these suits. Be very careful not to snag your suit on any thorns or anything Barney. If you get even the smallest tear, that could be fatal.’

Barney nodded. ‘I’ll be really careful,’ he said.

They both strapped their Rescue Packs back on and set off into the forest by the light of the moon. At first Maddy and Barney walked very slowly and warily, stopping after each step to listen for the slightest sound, and looking about them for the slightest movement, but they heard nothing, and saw nothing, save the silver moon shining high in the sky, making shadows of the branches on the rough path.

‘Are we nearly there, Maddy?’ said Barney after while.

‘We have to go right to the middle of the deep dark forest,’ said Maddy. ‘That’s where the little Bear is hiding in his cave, where nobody can see him. If we keep following the path, it should take us to the cave …’

‘But look,’ said Barney, pointing just up ahead. ‘The path stops here. It just peters out. We’re at the end.’

‘The Fairy Queen said this might happen,’ said Maddy. ‘She said it was many years since this path was trodden and it could be overgrown. Or this could be the doing of the evil trolls who inhabit this forest, trying to confuse us, to lead us astray …’

‘We’ll need to cut our way through,’ said Barney. ‘Look, through here, I can just about make out where the path must have been.’ Barney took his cutters out of his Rescue Pack and started making his way through the dense thorny undergrowth.

‘Watch the thorns don’t pierce your suit!’ said Maddy, following on behind as carefully as she could. It seemed that the thick thorny bushes were closing in behind them, as if the thorns themselves were intent on trapping them, as Maddy and Barney fought their way through the dense undergrowth of the forest. They were out of breath by the time they came to a little clearing. The moon was still high overhead. It seemed as if it was moving with them, all the while lighting their way.

The silence was broken by the flapping of the wings of a large Owl who hooted loudly and then came to rest on a nearby branch as Maddy and Barney came into the clearing. The Owl’s bright eyes shone out into the darkness like two small moons that seemed to follow the children’s movements.

‘D’you think he can see us, Maddy?’ said Barney. ‘How can he see us, when we’ve got our Invisible Suits on …’

‘And what’s he here for?’ said Maddy, beginning to feel uncomfortable in the big Owl’s steady gaze. ‘Why’s he staring at us?’

But before Barney had a chance to reply, the Owl spoke. ‘I see you,’ he said, ‘I see your eyes, just as you see mine. I see you because I am sent to guide you. The Queen of the Fairies told me to come; this is such a deep dark forest, she was afraid you’d get lost, or fall into the swamp, or in other words …’

‘Would you mind, Mr Owl, if Barney and I had a private conversation, just for one moment. Now if you wouldn’t mind blocking up your ears and looking the other way …’ said Maddy.

Maddy and Barney whispered together for a few moments. They were not at all sure that they should trust the Owl. Perhaps it was one of the evil trolls in disguise, or some other monster taking on a benign form, when really it intended to lead them directly into the swamp and leave them there to flounder and sink in the stinking festering mud …

‘If you don’t hurry up and stop nattering, you two,’ said the Owl, ‘it’ll be too late. Simply too late. In other words, that will be the end of the story.’

‘How do you mean, too late?’ said Barney.

‘Oh, as we speak,’ said the Owl, ‘the poor little Luminous Bear may not be able to hang on for much longer. In other words, while you two are debating, his very life is ebbing away …’

‘OK,’ said Maddy, sounding as decisive as she could, though doubts still crowded round inside her and made her voice shake, ‘OK Mr Owl, you’ve made your point. In other words, we’ll have to trust you. We have no choice. So please, go on, lead the way …’

Maddy’s words trailed off into the night, because at the point she’d said they would trust the Owl, he’d assumed another form. He flew down from the tree and now stood before them, a wizened old man with a long long beard and a hooded cloak and a staff, the end of which was glowing red like a ruby.

‘I am the wood wizard,’ he said, gathering his cloak about him. ‘I will lead the way.’

The wizard rushed off, disappearing quickly into the undergrowth. There was clearly no more time for debating. Maddy and Barney hurried after him. The wizard was almost nearly always just out of sight. All Maddy and Barney had to follow was the glowing red tip of his staff that seemed to slice its way through the undergrowth, pushing all the thorns to the side and clearing a path for them to follow. They hurried on and on pushing deeper and deeper into the dark heart of the forest. At times they lost sight of the wizard’s red staff for what seemed like minutes on end, and at those times they each wondered if the wizard would disappear altogether and they would be left to wander the wild woods lost for all time. Then, as if by a miracle, he’d be there again, forging ahead further and further into the forest.

There was a noise. A strange noise. Perhaps they didn’t notice it at first, what with all the rushing along and the cracking of twigs underfoot, and the swish swish swish of the wizard’s cloak, and the hissy whoosh of his ruby staff as it sliced through the undergrowth. The noise at first was a low groaning sound, like an animal exhausted, or in pain, or only half alive. The noise got louder and then it seemed there was more than one, then there was a whole chorus of the most gruesome ugly groaning, and then there was shouting in a strange language, and high pitched shrieking such as would crack glass, and cackling, a whole cacophony of hideous voices and noises seemed to surround them and to be closing in from all sides. Then suddenly, there was the Owl in the tree again, looking down on Maddy and Barney.

‘This is as far as I come,’ he said. ‘This is the end of the road for me. In other words, you must travel the rest of the way alone.’

Maddy and Barney were holding each other tight by the hand, their mouths clamped shut with fear.

‘What’s that terrible terrible noise?’ Maddy managed to say. ‘Oh Mr Owl, how can you leave us at the point of the greatest danger? How can we possibly rescue the Bear without your help?’

‘My power ends here,’ said the wizard, ‘I have no power, no influence, in any territory beyond this spot where you stand. Outside of this place, I am nothing. Indeed, I would risk my own life, were I to cross this boundary. You ask about those noises: they’re the noises of the evil trolls who guard the Bear. They’re fierce and they can’t do anything but fight and wage wars. That’s all they have ever done and that’s all they’ll ever do. They can’t think, they can’t reason, they have no feelings of compassion. You need to bear all that in mind when you confront them …’

‘Confront them?!’ said Barney, alarmed. ‘How can we confront them, when we have no swords, no weapons, nothing with which to fight them? In other words, you’re a little crazy if I may say so, Mr Owl!’

‘Hrmm,’ said the Owl. ‘Methinks it’s you that’s foolish if you think a fight is the answer. Since when did fighting solve anything? You have only to look at those trolls, who never did anything but fight, and you’ll see all the weaponry in the world can’t stop them. Fighting only breeds more fighting. You need to think of a plan instead. One thing is on your side: The fierce trolls are stupid, they never stop to think. You, on the other hand, are good at working things out. That’s the reason you were chosen for this mission. That fact alone will be your best weapon.’

The Owl’s last words spoken, Maddy and Barney heard the flapping of his great wings, and then he was gone.

The noise of the warring trolls was now so loud they could hardly hear themselves think. Maddy and Barney crouched down and peered through the undergrowth. From where they crouched they could see the great dark mouth of the cave, but swarming in and out of it and all round about it were hordes of warring trolls brandishing nasty looking weaponry, metal clubs covered in spikes, swords and daggers. A few of them were even lugging a rusty-looking cannon. Somehow Maddy and Barney were going to have to get past that evil bunch of trolls who stamped and whooped and screeched their war cries.

‘Let’s see what we’ve got in our Rescue Packs, Maddy,’ said Barney. He opened his pack and pulled out a mirror. As he pulled it from the pack the mirror grew bigger and bigger and bigger till eventually it was about five feet round.

‘Wow!’ said Maddy, catching hold of it, ‘and I can guess what this is for! C’mon Barney, grab the other side, and let’s go!’

They made their way through the undergrowth, carrying the large mirror between them. All the while the war cries of the evil trolls were getting louder and more frenzied, but Maddy and Barney, safe within their Invisible Suits, pressed on forward.

 They neared the mouth of the cave, each holding one edge of the mirror. The horde of evil trolls surged forward and, what did they see? They saw in the mirror another horde of warring trolls surging forward, and immediately attacked. The trolls – like the Owl had said – were too stupid and too overcome by their own fierceness to realise that what they saw in the mirror was no more than their own reflection!

Maddy and Barney left the band of trolls fighting with themselves and their own reflections, a fight that would have no end. They rushed into the cave to look for the little Luminous Bear.

‘Wait,’ said Barney, catching hold of Maddy’s arm. ‘You’d better not look at the Bear. He’s so bright he’ll hurt your eyes. We’ll have to find some way of covering up his brightness before we take him out, or there’s going to be the same problem all over again.

‘No problem,’ said Maddy. ‘I’ve already thought of that. I brought a spare Invisible Suit. I brought Pink Monkey’s one. I only hope it fits the Bear!’

After not much further ado, Maddy and Barney found the little luminous Bear looking very unhappy in the furthest corner of the deep dark cave. They quickly got him dressed up in the Invisible Suit – which fit him perfectly – and they each took hold of one of his hands and the three of them ran back to the mouth of the cave, past the evil trolls who were still warring with themselves (and probably still are, to this day) and back into the forest, to the place they’d left the Owl.

‘Ah,’ said the Owl, ‘Three sets of eyes this time I see.’ The Owl nodded his head in a wise and understanding manner. ‘Now you must go straight to the moon wizard. He is my brother. In other words, he will help you with the little Bear.’

So hand in hand Maddy and Barney and the little Luminous Bear floated up and up and up into the dark night, and all the way to the moon.

‘I’m so glad you came,’ said the Moon Wizard, welcoming them, ‘so very glad. I was expecting you. And I’m particularly so glad you came on this night, in particular,’ he said, ‘it is everything I was hoping for in every particular.’

Keeping her own eyes shut, Maddy helped the Luminous Bear off with his Invisible Suit. ‘I can leave that suit with you,’ she said, ‘in case you ever need it again?’

‘Oh he won’t need that,’ said the Moon Wizard’. The job I have lined up for the Little Bear requires him to be VERY visible, and VERY VERY bright. And particularly so tonight.’ 

‘You see, children, it’s Christmas Eve, and a very special baby will be born tonight. We need to light up that special star over there,’ the Moon Wizard said as he stretched out his long arm from under his cloak and pointed upwards, high into the sky. ‘Yes a special star tonight needs to be specially very very bright,’ he said, ‘and that’s your job from now on, Little Bear.’

copyright: éditions des canettes, Paris, 2024

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