Chapter 2 #2
Callie said eagerly, ‘I know Halloween has its roots in the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain. Since All Saints’ Day is going to be dominated by the church, perhaps we should focus on the pagan origins of Halloween itself for All Hallows’ Eve.’
Amelia cleared her throat. ‘Er, actually, there’s a school of thought that contradicts the whole “The Church stole Halloween from the Pagans” story.
In fact – apart from anything else – it’s quite probable that the trick-or-treating we associate with the Pagans is derived from a Christian practice of charity – handing out the soul cakes and other food to the poor at Allhallowtide.
’ She held up her hands. ‘Yes, well, perhaps that’s a discussion for another time.
And I do take your point about letting what we think of as traditional Halloween rituals take precedence for one night – for the children if nothing else. ’
Brodie nodded. ‘I agree. There should be something going on and I think the Wyrd Stones would be the perfect place for it. Perhaps we could allow the local children to wear their Halloween costumes at the Stones, so it wouldn’t bother the elderly residents?
What about a pumpkin carving competition? And a costume parade?’
‘Ooh yes! And what about a spooky stories-by-torchlight event as it starts to get dark?’ Callie said eagerly. ‘Children do love to be scared!’
‘We could provide food, too,’ Brodie mused. ‘I’m sure Mia would be up for that. You know how she loves to cook and bake.’
‘It must be respectful, though,’ Aubrey cautioned. ‘After all, those stones have been there for thousands of years.’
‘You’re quite right, Aubrey,’ Callie agreed. ‘It will be respectful. Perhaps,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘we can make a beautiful pumpkin trail through the woods, leading to the clearing where the stones are? Carved pumpkins with lights inside them to show the way? What do you think?’
‘An illuminated pumpkin path?’ Brodie asked. ‘That sounds great.’
‘The pumpkins would have to be laid just before the event and removed straightaway afterwards, though,’ Amelia warned.
‘They can cause digestive upsets to wildlife – particularly hedgehogs who can die of dehydration as a result. Not to mention that if the pumpkins are left to rot and start to go mouldy, that can kill as well.’
‘Duly noted. Thanks for that,’ Callie said. ‘We could string some pumpkin lights around the stone circle, too. I’m sure I’ve seen pumpkin-shaped fairy lights online.’
‘Again, don’t keep them up too long,’ Amelia said. ‘Not trying to be a party pooper, but the light will disturb the animals and birds in the woods.’
‘That’s fine,’ Callie assured her. ‘Of course we’ll only switch them on for the event.’
‘No lights around the barrow,’ Aubrey said firmly. ‘Not to mention The Penitent King.’
‘Agreed,’ Callie said solemnly.
After all, years ago, twelve skeletons had been excavated from the barrow beneath four tall stones known as The Guardians, along with cremated remains. The barrow itself was believed to be over five thousand years old and deserved respect.
As for The Penitent King… the lone standing stone was the site of an unconventional burial that had been hushed up for many years. Even Amelia had no idea about that. The last thing Callie would want to do was cheapen that particular grave.
‘We leave The Guardians and The Penitent King alone,’ she promised, clarifying the situation for Amelia and Brodie, ‘and focus our attention on The King’s Court.’
The King’s Court was a stone circle consisting of fourteen stones with a further three stones in the centre – the largest of which was known as The Queen Stone.
It was said that a Queen and her children had once huddled together there, as a witch turned them to stone.
Together with The Guardians and The Penitent King they made up the Wyrd Stones.
‘We’ll have to order in lots of pumpkins,’ Brodie mused. ‘It’s a shame they don’t grow them on the farm. We could have had pumpkin picking.’
‘On a 1940s farm?’ Amelia laughed. ‘I don’t think anyone round here would have even seen a pumpkin back then, let alone picked and carved one! When I was a kid, we carved turnips. Well, my dad did mine. They were far harder to scoop out than a pumpkin, I promise you that.’
‘That’s the trouble with being in a living history village,’ Callie said with a sigh. ‘We must be authentic. You’re right, Brodie. We’ll have to order in lots of pumpkins for the carving.’
‘At least we’ve allowed plenty of time on this occasion,’ Brodie said. ‘Usually, we’re running to catch up with ourselves.’
‘The 1940s weekend to get through first,’ Amelia said with satisfaction. ‘I did enjoy it last September, but I must admit it’s good that we’ve had a much longer build-up this time and more planning has gone into it. And then there’s Remembrance Sunday of course.’
‘And planning for the Christmas market and fair has already begun,’ Callie added. ‘But this Halloween celebration is a first, and I’m looking forward to it. We always have to think ahead. It’s so important that we continue to bring revenue into the village.’
‘Apart from Easter, the next big event after Christmas will be your wedding,’ Amelia reminded her. ‘Now that will be something to celebrate!’
‘Oh, gosh, that’s ages away,’ Callie said with a laugh. ‘Not till next May. Let’s focus on the ghosts first, shall we?’
Brodie sighed. ‘Don’t we always? Personally, it’s the wedding I’m looking forward to most of all.’ He took Callie’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘And your parents will be coming back from Australia for it?’ Amelia asked him.
‘Yes, definitely. They’re really excited about it, and Grandpa can’t wait to see them again, of course.’
‘How is Lawrie?’ Amelia took a sip of her tea. ‘I haven’t seen him for a while.’
Callie and Brodie exchanged glances, and Aubrey nervously stroked his beard. Hmm. Now that was a cause for concern. Agnes was extremely worried about her beloved Lawrie – Sir Lawrence Davenport, the former owner of the Harling Estate.
‘He’s not too bad,’ Brodie said cautiously.
‘We’ve moved him downstairs permanently,’ Callie added.
‘His bed’s in his sitting room now, and we’ve had the downstairs bathroom fitted with a walk-in shower with a shower chair just for him.
The stairs really were getting impossible for him.
We offered to look into getting him a stairlift, but he refused.
He’s worried about the damage to the fabric of the building, and he has a point, what with the stone stairs and historical handrails.
We’d have to get a specialist sort of stairlift and also permission, since Harling Hall is a listed building, but we were willing to try at least. But he won’t allow it and that’s that. ’
Amelia nodded. ‘I thought I hadn’t seen him out and about for a while,’ she admitted.
‘Not since your engagement party, in fact, and before then… Well, he doesn’t go for bus rides around the estate any more, does he?
I was chatting to a couple of the clippies about him, and they said they miss him. ’
Brodie rubbed his chin. ‘He’s in his mid-eighties, I suppose. It’s just that he’s got so much frailer these last couple of years but he won’t even have a mobility scooter. He’s so stubborn!’
Aubrey heard the fear in his voice.
Evidently, Callie did, too. ‘He’s still sharp as a tack and very much looking forward to the wedding,’ she said, as if to reassure him. ‘So,’ she continued with deliberate cheerfulness, ‘about this Halloween event… When do you think we should start advertising it?’
‘I think we should put it in the next village newsletter to give people plenty of time to get used to the idea,’ Brodie said, taking his cue from her. ‘And no doubt Shona’s daughter, Pippa, will write a piece in the Cotswolds Courier for us. She’s very good like that.’
‘Ooh, it’s going to be such fun,’ Callie said, hugging herself in delight. ‘I can’t wait!’
Aubrey gazed out of the vicarage window and wondered about Silas. He had a feeling he knew where the old clergyman had gone, and he suspected he knew why. All that talk of cleaning up headstones, laying flowers on graves, saying prayers for the dearly departed… How long had it been now?
He did a quick calculation in his head. The Battle of the Somme had taken place in 1916, so it must have been 1917. Yes, 1917. Over a hundred years ago. Poor Silas.
This Halloween event was important to Callie and to Rowan Vale, he knew that.
But he also knew that it would be a difficult time for the Reverend Alexander.
Aubrey would have to keep an eye on him, ready with a listening ear should it be required.
The old clergyman was a grouchy and annoying man at the best of times, but beneath that angry demeanour was a broken heart.
Aubrey knew that, whatever Silas said to the contrary, he would need someone to be there for him. Aubrey had every intention of being that person.
Whether Silas liked it or not.