She shoved herself around her car to the pavement, and saw Margaret and Johnny running to meet her, Margaret in her party dress and new big heavy coat with huge lapels, the hood of Johnny's anorak flapping at his tousled hair. "Are you glad to see me?" she said, hugging them. "Did you have a good time?''
"It was brill, Mummy. The Snow Queen's palace was all made of ice, all sparkly ..."
"And when the girl tried to save the boy there were terrolls that looked like snowmen that chased her ..."
"They're called trolls, Johnny, not terrolls."
"You call them what you like, Johnny. Don't you think terrolls is a good word for them, Margaret? Worth putting in a book." She thanked Janet's parents for having the children, and promised to give Janet and her younger brother a treat before they all went back to school. "If you'll excuse me, I'm almost ready for bed."
"I'm not."
"You never are, Johnny." She handed him and Margaret into the car. "Home we go," she said, and drove carefully downhill.
There weren't many For Sale signs, and almost none on the occupied houses. The community was determined to recreate itself as far as it could. She found the sight of so many decorated windows, holly or coloured lights or paper angels facing the night, oddly suggestive, but whatever it almost recalled seemed as remote and unlikely as a scrap of a dream. She swung her car up the track and parked by the house, stretching so vigorously as she climbed out that she shivered. She was opening the gate when Johnny cried "Look, a star's moving."
A gleaming speck which appeared momentarily bright as a star was descending from the sky, sailing past the roof of the house. It was a snowflake, one of a number falling lazily to the earth. "Let's catch them," Johnny shouted, and ran to be ready for the one he'd first spotted. "Mummy, I've caught it," he cried.
Ellen saw it land on his palm. When she went to him she was astonished by how clear it looked, a feathery star composed of glass, and how it seemed to be lingering. Margaret had caught one too, but rubbed her hands together quickly to make it vanish. Now Johnny's was a large drop of water which he let fall to the ground. "I'm the boy who caught the snowflake."
"It's just a story, Johnny," Ellen told him, not knowing why she felt she needed to, and ruffled his hair when she saw his disappointment. "A lovely story, though, and it's ours to keep. But the rest of our lives will be our best story of all."
A wind like a whisper of agreement passed through Sterling Forest as she ushered the children towards the house, and a few more snowflakes fell. They hadn't really taken longer to melt on the children's hands than they should have, she told herself. She unlocked the front door and switched on the hall light, and thought how to cheer Johnny up. "Next year if you like we'll see about making a path all the way through the woods," she said, and followed the children into the house, where the tree from the forest was waiting. She breathed in the warmth and the scent of pine, and murmured something like a prayer, too low for the children to hear. "Let this be the Christmas we missed," she said.
Table of Contents