Ruth's First Christmas Tree (4 page)

She flings open the door and stands, transfixed, on the doorstep. The room is lit by dozens of candles and there, illuminated in the golden light, are Cathbad and Nelson and, hanging from the ceiling, an upside-down Christmas tree, twinkling with lights and hung with strange, glittering decorations.

‘It’s Yggdrasil,’ says Cathbad. ‘We thought, if it’s up high, Kate and Flint won’t be able to get at it.’

‘It’s amazing,’ says Ruth, coming closer. ‘How did you get it up there?’

‘By ropes and pulleys,’ says Nelson. ‘Took us ages.’

‘Lucky Nelson arrived when he did,’ says Cathbad. ‘I couldn’t have managed it by myself.’

‘I came to drop off some presents,’ says Nelson. He gestures towards two rather clumsily wrapped parcels. One is addressed to Kate and one to Ruth.

‘That’s so kind of you,’ says Ruth. She is afraid that she’s about to cry.

‘I made new decorations because yours got broken,’ Cathbad explains. ‘They’re mainly dried fruit and paper. We wanted to make it special because it’s your first Christmas tree.’

‘It is special,’ says Ruth. ‘It’s unique.’

‘It has turned out rather well.’ Cathbad looks modest. ‘How was the party?’

‘Dreadful,’ says Ruth. ‘Phil was wearing high heels.’

‘I always knew he was weird,’ says Nelson. ‘Bet there wasn’t even any decent beer.’

‘Mainly champagne,’ says Ruth. ‘Bob Bullmore brought some home-made cider.’ Nelson shudders. ‘But I only drank orange juice.’

‘Well, let’s have a drink now,’ says Cathbad. ‘I’ve made some more mulled wine. Do you want some?’

‘That would be lovely,’ says Ruth, sinking down on the sofa, still staring up at the tree. ‘And I’ve got something for you.’ She takes the piece of wood out of her bag.

Much later, when Cathbad and Nelson have gone home, Ruth is still sitting and staring at the tree. The snow has stopped but it’s still lying thick on the ground, deep and crisp and even. Nelson was confident that his heavy Mercedes could cope and he has taken Cathbad with him. Cathbad is planning to visit Driffield tomorrow, taking with him the missing piece of Bronze Age wood. ‘He’ll get better now. I’m sure of it.’ Ruth hopes so. Even if the wooden peg itself doesn’t have special powers, she is sure that Cathbad’s powerful conviction will go a long way towards healing his friend. Maybe that’s what shamanism is all about. It’s enough that someone, somewhere, genuinely believes that the magic will work.

Will Max be able to drive up from Brighton tomorrow? Ruth doesn’t know, and at the moment she doesn’t care. All she can think of is that Nelson left his family to drive through the snow to bring her a present. She looks at the parcel, sitting under the inverted tip of the tree. It’s small and irregular. It could be jewellery or an ornament of some kind. It could, knowing Nelson, be a tiny toolkit for the car. At the moment, she has no desire to open it. She too wants a surprise on Christmas morning. Still, she’d better hide the parcels before she goes to bed. Kate could never be persuaded to wait before tearing off the paper. But with age comes patience. Ruth is quite prepared to wait, looking up at her wonderful Paradise Tree, brought to her by ancient magic and the love of friends.

E
LLY
G
RIFFITHS
’ Ruth Galloway novels take for their inspiration Elly’s husband, who gave up a city job to train as an archaeologist, and her aunt who lives on the Norfolk coast and who filled her niece's head with the myths and legends of that area. Elly has two children and lives near Brighton.