The Advent Calendar (24 page)

Guide us to thy Perfect Light.’

Each of the soloists offered one verse with unusual passion. Each produced gifts as they sang and set them on the altar. Then all three came together in a new harmonic arrangement for the final cry of praise, filling the church and singing:

‘Glorious now behold Him arise;

King and God and Sacrifice;

Alleluia, Alleluia,

Earth to heav’n replies.’

‘You were fantastic,’ Alice said to Caspar over a mince pie after the service.

‘Very well done,’ said the vicar coming up to shake the three guests warmly by the hand. ‘We’ve never had as many people in church for a Carol Service. You really lifted us at the end. What passion!’

‘Any chance you can stay back and help sort things out for a bit, Alice?’ asked Brenda. ‘There’s a lot to get ready for the Christmas Eve midnight service.’

‘Allow us to help, ma’am,’ said Mel.

‘Are you sure?’ said Brenda. ‘There is a lot to do.’

‘We need to get back,’ said Megs, coming over with Josie, ‘but you stay on with Sam if you like, Alice.’

‘Thanks, Mum. We won’t be too long.’

Mel and Bal started with the washing up. Sam and Alice collected the service sheets and stacked them at the back.

‘Thanks,’ said Brenda. ‘The vicar’s gone home to put his feet up. That’s his tenth Carol Service this week but I could tell he enjoyed it the most. I just need to pop home and get some more wine. We don’t like to keep too much in the vestry these days. Will you be alright here?’

‘No problems,’ said Sam.

‘Bolt the door behind me and I’ll knock three times,’ said Brenda. ‘Thanks.’

As soon as Brenda had gone Bal and Mel dried their hands and put their jackets and coats on. ‘This way,’ said Caspar, leading them down to the front of the church. Just to the right of the main altar was a small side chapel. They stopped and bowed before a small bronze statue. Alice gasped. It was Mary as they had seen her on the first day, full of life, and with a child in her arms.

‘This way,’ said Mel. ‘Bal will stay here in the church.’

He led them past the bronze statue to the very far corner of the building and pulled back an old tapestry. There was a strange old door set in the wall. Bal lifted the latch and pulled it open.

Alice blinked and screwed up her eyes. Bright sunlight streamed into the church.

‘Come through,’ said Caspar, leading the way.

Sam stepped through over the threshold and Alice followed. They looked around and breathed in the warm spring air of early morning. Alice felt uncomfortable already in her winter coat. She took it off and left it on the ground by the doorway.

The four of them were standing at one end of an enormous field. The earth had recently been ploughed and had deep furrows ready for sowing. The field’s boundary was marked by a dry stone wall. Beyond it was another and then another as far as the eye could see.

‘Welcome,’ said Mary, who had been sitting on a low bench beside the door next to a gate into the field. Mel and Caspar bowed low. Sam and Alice followed their example now.

Mary was as they had first seen her: young and full of passion and yet at the same time old and full of wisdom.

‘This is the last time we will speak together in this way,’ Mary said. ‘Tomorrow is the calendar’s last day when we shall meet but there will be no time for conversation. Today you must walk with me. Take these.’

Mary handed them both a large, heavy canvas satchel on a strap. Alice and Sam put them over their shoulder and saw that Mary had one also.

‘What is it?’ said Sam.

‘Seed,’ said Mary. ‘Good seed to sow in the earth. Watch and follow.’

They set off around the edge of the field. As they walked, Mary took great handfuls of seed and flung them out onto the earth. Sam and Alice followed, doing as she did. There was no breeze and the seed hung in the air before it settled onto the soil.

Together they worked their way across the ploughed field. It was hard work. Alice found the soil stuck to her shoes and, after a while, her arms ached from the throwing. Yet it was also a solemn and exciting experience, not knowing what would grow.

‘What are we sowing?’ called Sam, as they drew near to the end of the field and their bags grew lighter.

‘All kinds of good things,’ said Mary. ‘But now you must see what happens to what is sown.’

She led them back across the centre of the field to begin their walk again from the place where they had started to sow.

Out across the field, Alice now saw green shoots beginning to appear through the soil. ‘What you will see takes many of your months,’ said Mary, ‘but watch and learn.’

Around the edges of the field and in the places where they had walked, nothing grew. Sam looked more closely. ‘Birds,’ he said. ‘The seed has been eaten.’

Alice walked over to the left side of the meadow where the seed was growing quickly, shooting upwards. Then, as she watched, it began to wither and die.

‘No root,’ said Mary, bending down and picking up a large rock. ‘The ground here is full of stones. There will be no harvest here.’

Sam ran ahead of them. There was boggy ground up ahead. The plants were shooting up here as well, but growing alongside and tangled in among them were weeds and thorns.

‘Worries, cares, pleasures,’ said Mary. ‘They start well but the life is choked out of them. No harvest here either.’

As Sam looked at the thorns entangling the young plants, Alice had run ahead again to the middle of the field, where all kinds of good things were growing. There was corn and wheat, poppies and flowers of every kind, vegetables, fruit bushes which would yield berries, oats and barley, rice and millet all side by side.

‘Look at how much is growing!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look how it grows from the tiny seed!’

‘Look, indeed,’ said Mary. ‘And remember. And think. And see if you can understand.’

By now they had walked the full circuit of the field and come back to the door where Caspar and Bal were waiting. Mary embraced them both.

‘You have now travelled almost the whole journey through the calendar,’ she said. ‘The seed of life has been sown.’ She turned back towards the field and pointed to the different places they had walked together.

‘Make sure nothing snatches away the seed.’ She tapped Sam on the forehead.

‘Make sure that there is depth for the seed to take root and grow.’ She tapped Alice on the chest.

‘Make sure that the seed is not choked by worries, cares and pleasures.’ She took them both by the hand and turned to face the centre of the field.

‘Let there be good fruit. Go well.’

One by one, they stepped over the threshold and were back in the quiet chapel at the side of the church. The lights were on but even so the building felt cold and gloomy after the spring sunshine. Mel was sweeping the broad central aisle. There were three loud knocks on the door.

‘Sorry to be so long, my dears,’ said Brenda. ‘Thanks so much for waiting. It looks so clean. I’ll be fine now if you want to carry on.’

‘Goodnight, Brenda,’ said Alice, looking back down the church, ready now for the services on Christmas Eve.

The three companions walked them home.

‘Will we see you tomorrow?’ said Sam.

‘You may see us, but there may not be time for conversation,’ said Caspar with a smile. ‘Travel well. Tomorrow is the last door but also the greatest. Be ready and stay in the house.’

Everyone was in the front room when they arrived – even Andrew.

‘Hi!’ said Sam.

‘What happened to the calendar?’ said Alice. ‘Did anything appear?’

‘I never thought to look,’ said Grandma. ‘Let me get my glasses. Well, I never did.’

‘There’s more to this than meets the eye,’ said Grandad.

‘How do they do it?’ said Josie.

Alice and Sam looked and saw what they expected: an open door, a tiny snapshot of a field ploughed and ready for sowing. Tiny dots on the wind: seeds of life falling into good soil.

24 December

Alice was up early on Christmas Eve. The excitement of the last part of the journey twisted and danced inside her. As far as she was concerned, there was only one thing that mattered today. She never wanted the adventure of the calendar to end. Yet she also wanted, more than anything, to reach that final door, the one that had been visible all the way through, the very large one right in the centre.

At five minutes to eight, she crept into the front room. Sam was still asleep. Alice looked at him with new respect. The change in Sam over the last few weeks had been remarkable. Even Megs said so. But he still snored like a train. Alice didn’t wake him just yet – though she would never have dreamt of not sharing this last adventure with him. She wanted a few moments by herself before it began. She felt sure the message would arrive in the early morning – the only time the house would be still and they would be alone with the calendar.

Alice squatted in the corner of the room, enjoying the darkness. The Christmas tree was in the corner. She could smell it and see its shape outlined against the light that spilled in at the window whenever a car came round the corner. It cast long pointed shadows on the chimney breast. At the base of the tree were the gifts: a pile that grew larger by the day. Last year on Christmas Eve, Alice got into the most terrible trouble for trying to peel off the wrapping paper. She half-grinned to herself as she remembered how preoccupied she had been in years gone by with the coloured paper and the strange boxes. It was true – this year she’d hardly given the presents a thought. At least three new large parcels had arrived since she went to bed last night.

Over on the opposite wall, of course, was the calendar. Doors one to twenty-three were open. The minute candle in the first door still shone as brightly as before giving enough light to see what was in each tiny space. Alice looked at them one more time, remembering the different conversations and adventures. The tiny dove. The wild animals sharing a common home. A loaf of bread, the glass of wine from the great feast. The man dancing after being brought back to life. The broken chains. The tiny, bubbling stream of water. The peacock.

Alice looked at her watch one more time. It was almost eight o’clock. She shook Sam.

‘Whassup?’ Sam rubbed his eyes. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s eight o’clock. It’s the final day. We need the code before anyone else is awake. There will be people here all day. Let’s go.’

Sam reached for his phone. A text message had arrived. Alice stood by the calendar, finger poised. ‘Call out the numbers.’

Sam brought up the message: ‘You’ve won a holiday in Benidorm. Ring this number immediately for more details.’

‘Sam, stop teasing. It’s not the time.’

‘No, seriously, that’s what it says. Maybe it’s not time yet. Yesterday it didn’t come until just before six. Still, I may as well ring and find out what I’ve won.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ yelled Alice. ‘It has to be now. It’s the only time today. Are you sure your phone’s working?’

Sam checked, nodded and slipped off to the loo. Alice paced up and down. Sam came back. Still nothing. They had breakfast. Still nothing. Megs came down yawning, dreamily chattering about all they had to do. Still nothing. Grandma and Grandad emerged and they made Grandad comfortable in the front room – opposite the calendar. Even Sam was on edge by now.

‘Anyone coming shopping?’ Megs said to them both.

‘Busy,’ muttered Sam sheepishly. ‘Presents to wrap.’

‘Can’t, Mum,’ said Alice. ‘Television.’

Megs looked at them both curiously. Something was going on. ‘Tesco calls,’ she sighed. ‘Last-minute stuff. Wish me luck.’

Somehow Alice and Sam shuffled through the morning. Sam checked the mobile every ten minutes. Still no code. Alice tried punching in yesterday’s, but all of the buttons were still in place. She played on her Game Boy. Sam made a serious attempt to wrap up a present for Josie. In the end Alice rescued him. Together they made a half-decent job of it. The minutes dragged by. As Alice put Josie’s gift under the tree, she had a closer look at the three gifts which had arrived in the night. They were beautifully wrapped, with classy paper and trimmings, not like the ones they normally gave each other.

‘Sam! Look at these,’ said Alice. ‘Look at the labels.’

Sam came over and they pulled out the three gifts. Each one had a similar label. The first was very heavy. ‘To Alice and Sam with love from Mel.’ The second was light and smelled fragrant. ‘To Sam and Alice with love from Bal.’ The third was wrapped in dark paper and was of medium weight. It gave off a powerful, sweet smell. It was from Caspar.

‘Should we open them?’ said Alice.

‘It says “Wait for Christmas Day” on the back of the label,’ said Sam.

Morning turned into lunchtime. Megs came back from Tesco’s and Sam and Alice meekly helped put the food away. The cupboards and the fridge were full to exploding point. Alice opened the cupboard to put the plastic bags away and 5,000 fell out on top of her. Megs and Grandma spent the afternoon preparing yet more food. Alice tried to watch the television. Normally she liked the old films but not today. Christmas Eve always dragged but on this one every second seemed like a minute and every minute like an hour. When would it come? Bal had said to be ready and not to leave the house but he never said what time. Even waiting for Father Christmas when she was very young had never seemed this bad.

At four o’clock, while Grandad slept in his chair, Sam tried the emergency number given by Mr Gabriel. Perhaps something had gone wrong. There was just an annoying voicemail message in a very cultured Welsh accent. Alice tried the number 266 433 555 herself and listened to the message:

‘Hello, Gabriel here. Thanks for calling. So sorry I can’t take your call. It’s Christmas Eve and I’m rather busy. Please leave a message or call back another time. In an emergency text 4447 7772 4442 44. Goodbye.’

‘What use is that?’ said Sam and popped out to the shops. He’d remembered he needed to buy his Mum and Dad’s present. ‘Won’t be more than half an hour. Promise!’

Alice played around with Sam’s mobile for a while. She resisted the temptation to read his text messages – except the different codes. All of this time she’d never really figured them out. They seemed like random numbers when they arrived.

Grandad woke up just after Sam had gone out. ‘I meant to give you something earlier,’ he said, getting up. ‘We brought it yesterday. I didn’t bother to wrap it up. Hope you don’t mind. Those codes have been on my mind. I don’t know but you might find it has something to do with this.’

He passed over an old book in a brown paper bag. Alice took it out. It had a plain black leather cover, gold leaf on the edge of the pages and was clearly very old and well read.

‘Belonged to my grandfather,’ said Grandad. ‘He was a preacher, I think. Wanted you to have it. Kind of an heirloom.’

‘Thanks, Grandad,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll always keep it. But what’s it got to do with the codes?’

Grandad yawned. ‘That’s the curious thing,’ he said. ‘If I remember rightly, there are sixty-six books inside that one cover. Every book has a different number of chapters. Every chapter has a different number of verses. So every verse has a reference, see?’

Grandad opened the book at the first page. ‘This first book is called Genesis. This is chapter 1, verse 1. Only the way you write it would normally have a colon in: one, colon, one. Chapter 1, verse 1. Like your codes. Make sense?’

‘It does,’ said Alice, excitement stirring. ‘I thought they must mean something. But how do I know which book?’

She went back through the codes in the phone and wrote them down in sequence: 9:2, 2:4, 40:5 and so on. Surely they must mean something. Everything about the calendar had a meaning to it. Her mind worried at problems sometimes like a dog with a bone. She tried a few mathematical formulae out but nothing seemed to stick. Then she tried applying the first code to the first book in the Bible and so on but that didn’t make sense either. She dialled Gabriel’s number again and got the same message. This time she wrote it down. What kind of number was the emergency text line? It wasn’t like any phone number she’d ever seen. She wasn’t really in an emergency but she was tired of waiting.

She went into text mode and typed in the sequence of numbers, just for interest: 4447 7772 4442 44. ‘Giggssssaigai,’ Alice read aloud. ‘What kind of word is that?’

‘Has it come?’ said Sam, back from the shops. ‘Sorry I was a bit sharp earlier. Tension.’

‘Nothing so far,’ said Alice. ‘But Grandad had a really good idea about the codes. He thinks they are references to verses in here.’ She held out the Bible. ‘He gave it to me as a present.’

‘Coo,’ said Sam. ‘Makes sense.’

‘The only problem is, which books? I’m trying to make that number of Mr Gabriel’s answerphone mean something. I typed it in to see if it was a code.’

‘How about turning off the predictive text?’ said Sam. ‘That might be another kind of code.’

‘How do I do that?’ Alice asked. ‘I didn’t know you could turn it off.’

‘Press star and hold it,’ said Sam. ‘Now type the number in again. Each sequence of numbers is a letter. Press 4 three times, 7 four times and so on.’

Alice followed his instructions. A word appeared. It was one she recognised from flicking through the old book. Her hands were shaking. ‘What was the first code again – remember when we went to Choshek?’

Sam ran his finger up the list Alice had made. ‘Nine, colon, two,’ he said.

Alice found the place and read the first code, a tremble in her voice. There was an exact match with the adventure and with the picture in the calendar. The second was the same. And the third.

Now the time flew by. Megs came in first, then Josie, then Grandma. ‘Reading the Christmas story, darling? That’s nice,’ she said.

‘No, Grandma. Just checking something out. It was Grandad’s idea,’ said Alice.

Grandad woke up at that point and they took him through the sequence once again – although Sam wasn’t sure in the end he understood text messaging.

Alice had to break off for tea on day thirteen. Every adventure and every picture meant more now. It was after eight when she got back to her place by the fire.

Andrew arrived for the evening and sat on the sofa with Megs and seemed kind of, well, at home. Josie sat cosily in an armchair. Sam looked proud and content. Grandad dozed off, then woke up and said something funny. There was a half-hearted family game going on around her. Alice joined in a bit, getting sleepier and sleepier.

And then, just as she got to the final code, it happened. Grandma and Grandad had gone up to bed, having had, they said, ‘Enough excitement for one day.’ Josie had gone home. Megs and Andrew had popped out to the pub for half an hour. For the first time since morning, Sam and Alice were alone in the room with the calendar. The phone broke wind. The code arrived.

‘Didn’t know you’d changed it back again,’ said Alice.

‘Some bits of me don’t want to grow up just yet,’ Sam smiled. ‘Ready for the final adventure?’

‘You bet. Read it out.’

‘Seven, colon, one, four,’ called Sam. They stood in front of the calendar for the last time. Alice resisted the temptation to look up the reference. That would come later. She solemnly pressed each button as soon as Sam read it from the phone. Each clicked as before. As the last one was pressed into place, at exactly the same instant for Sam and Alice, the house and the calendar and everything in it were taken away.

They were on a hillside on a clear spring night. There was enough moonlight to see by. There was a nip of frost in the air and light from a small town in the valley.

Together they took in the scene. All was still. Then they heard voices and turned to look back up the path. Coming towards them at great speed down the hill was a crowd of the roughest-looking men Alice or Sam had ever seen, calling to each other in a strange language. Just in time, Sam pulled Alice out of sight behind a big gorse bush. Alice stifled a cry as the thorns pressed into her legs through her jeans.

‘What did you do that for?’ she hissed as the men ran past.

‘I don’t think they’re supposed to see us,’ Sam hissed back. ‘Did you see their faces? They looked scared out of their minds but at the same time you would have thought that they had won the lottery. We’re meant to follow them.’

Alice didn’t ask Sam how he could know that. She knew it as well, as clearly as if someone had told her out loud. They hurried down the path, keeping out of sight. The men were half walking, half running down the hillside towards the town. They were all ages: young lads and older men. The ones at the back kept looking behind them as if they expected to be followed. Sam and Alice kept diving behind rocks and bushes.

Alice supposed later that they covered about a mile. She had a stitch and was out of breath in no time and so was Sam, but they kept going. Nothing was going to make her miss this.

They came now to the walls of the small town. There were gates but no one was guarding them. There was hardly anyone around. They passed through the gate following where they guessed the men had gone and came to what looked like a large inn. The light from the lamps spilled out through the windows into the street. Alice caught a glimpse of the hustle and bustle and life inside. They were close behind the last of the men and she felt sure they would go straight inside. Sam was ready for a drink.