With the patchwork ceiling hanging above and the branches on the trees laden with bird feeders and fairy lights, the clearing in the rowan tree woods felt intimate and at the same time otherworldly, as though existing inside a fairy tale. The woodland surrounding the clearing was still a Narnian dream. Branches creaked beneath the weight of their snowy blanket and scurrying creatures left tiny footprints in the crisp white drifts.
Any garlands and bunting that could be salvaged from the marquee had been used to decorate the space. Duncan, Joe, and Patrick had arranged the tables and chairs not in a line as they would have been in the marquee but higgledy-piggledy to fit the unusual banqueting hall.
“It’s wonderful!” Star gushed when she came bearing a tray of hot wassail for them. “The woods were always special in the summer, but in winter they have a magic all their own, can you feel it?”
“Almost as magical as this wassail,” said Patrick appreciatively, sipping the warming brew. “It’s like drinking Christmas.”
“That’ll be all the cinnamon and spices infused slowly into it,” she said proudly.
“How have I never had this before?” Duncan asked, taking a sip and then leaning toward her for a kiss. “You even smell like wassail,” he added, sniffing her hair.
“So would you if you’d just made fifty gallons of the stuff. The fumes in the Stag and Hound kitchen are enough to make Godzilla drunk.”
“And how much wassail have you North sisters consumed during the brewing process?” Joe asked, one eyebrow quirked knowingly.
“Any chef worth her salt always taste-tests her creations before she serves them. That’s just good practice.” Star flicked her hair, stumbled slightly, and sashayed out of the clearing, zigzagging her way back to the kitchen to continue preparing the feast.
* * *
At three o’clock the Cussing Crocheters and the church flower association joined forces to dress the tables, which only added to the charm. Crochet foxes, squirrels, and other woodland creatures peeped out from garlands of dark green ivy which lay along the middle of each table.
The cutlery was mismatched, as were the mugs and plates, thanks to the emptying of many a kitchen cupboard for the occasion. If the March Hare and the Cheshire Cat were discovered taking tea in the clearing it would have surprised absolutely no one.
Overlooking it all was the tree house, which was where Verity had insisted that she, Sameera, and a couple of other friends from the village should dine this evening.
At four o’clock, the revelers, muffled in hats and coats, gathered in Augustus North’s garden to watch the bonfire being lit. Fable Folk sang “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” and “It May Be Winter Outside” by the glow of the fire as dancing flames of gold and magenta warmed the spectators. Spirits were high and the anticipation was palpable.
The hog roast was well and truly cooked, and even Star’s stomach growled at the fragrant smoke that mixed with the bonfire. It was the epitome of wintry smells carried on the crisp cold air, at once both warm and sharp in the nostrils.
Betty led the walk down to the bottom of the garden and into the woods. Star and her sisters gathered near the entrance to the clearing.
“Listen!” she whispered, unable to stifle her delight. With breath held and hands clasped in childlike excitement they waited for people’s reactions. Appreciative murmurs drifted back to them through the trees as friends and neighbors entered the enchanted dining hall. The whisper of many breaths sucked in in delighted surprise and exhaled in awe floated on the wintry air. The clearing looked even more stunning in the dark, lit only by the twinkle lights in the trees and the LED candles dotted along the tables. And when the guests took their seats, the woods themselves seemed to sigh contentedly, as though a long wait was finally over.
* * *
It felt to the sisters like a never-ending trail of back-and-forth between the cookery school and the clearing, as they delivered the fruits of their labors to their hungry guests. But the revelers were kept well-oiled by two large cauldrons of steaming wassail, which was ladled into mugs by Betty and Harini, and spirits were too high to complain about the wait. Joe had fashioned a basic dumbwaiter out of some rope and a picnic basket and lidded mugs of warm spiced apple juice were sent up to Verity and her friends in the tree house.
Transporting each giant saucepan of onion and cider soup to the clearing was a two-person job. The waiting trestle table groaned as it received the weight of the pans, but the fragrant pottage was quickly spooned into bowls and passed eagerly along the tables to be scooped up with roughly torn chunks of crusty bread slathered in cold butter. The band took a brief break from serenading the diners to tuck into the warming soup, and when they took up their instruments again and began to sing “Good King Wenceslas” it was with a renewed vigor.
“I feel like I’ve traveled back to medieval times,” said Simone, slurping a translucent tendril of onion off her spoon.
The first course had been served and the sisters were perched at the end of one table, hurriedly enjoying mugs of soup before the next round of fetching and carrying. The sweet choral voices of Fable Folk drifted around the woods and below that was the gentle hum of contented conversation, like midsummer honeybees in the hedgerows.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we evoked the spirit of King Wenceslas himself,” Star joined in.
“I’d rather not have our woods haunted, even by a member of ancient bohemian royalty,” Maggie added, tearing off a piece of bread and plunging it into the thick soup.
* * *
A cheer went up when platters piled high with roast pork and chicken landed on the tables. These were followed by the nut roasts and the vegetable dishes. Artemis, weaving between the legs of the guests, gratefully received the morsels they dropped in her direction.
The tables were groaning with food, and the patio heaters and wassail were doing their job to keep the banquet and the guests warm. When every mug was refilled, the North sisters raised their own for a toast.
51
Maggie took a deep breath and felt the comforting presence of Simone and Star on either side of her.