The Christmas Surprise
Page 17
‘They really are bastards,’ she said.
‘They are,’ said Stephen, batting them away. ‘But look.’
Over the flat plains in the distance, the bright orange-gold sun was sinking at a rate faster than Rosie would have believed possible. As it did so, the sky took on a fierce flat line of bright purple. The sun dipped quickly behind the mountain range in the distance, the purple flared brightly then turned speedily to black and, like diamonds popping out of a necklace, suddenly there was one star, then another, then another, and within minutes the entire sky was raining on them, great crystal stars so close Rosie felt she could put out her hand and simply pluck them down.
‘Oh my,’ she breathed.
Stephen came across from behind the van to the rock by the side of the road she was standing on.
‘I know,’ said Stephen. He touched her shoulder and, meeting no resistance, moved his arm around her. It felt like they were the only two human beings on the face of the earth. She had never felt further away from home, nor more in touch with the planet she’d been born on. She turned her face to his.
‘I should have told you,’ she said.
‘You should have.’
‘I’m sorry. Everything felt so—’
‘You do this all the time, Rosie. You’re worried I’m too fragile for bad news.’
Rosie nodded.
‘I know. I know. I don’t mean to, but—’
‘You don’t need to protect me. But you do need to let me protect you when it matters.’
Rosie shook her head, and he took her in his arms.
‘Aren’t we a team?’
Rosie nodded again.
‘Are we going to get through this together?’
‘I was hoping I’d think up a really good way how.’
Stephen smiled.
‘And stun me with your amazing genius?’
‘Something like that.’
He shook his head.
‘There is only one way, Rosie. Together. That’s the only way. Whatever happens.’
She looked up into his face, almost more handsome for being unshaven.
‘All right,’ she breathed. ‘Okay.’
‘Good.’ Stephen turned her to face the sky. ‘Because together, we’re amazing. Look where we are!’
Rosie took in a great breath of the warm, scented air.
‘What can’t we get through together?’
‘Nothing,’ said Rosie.
‘Apart from that squat toilet,’ said Stephen. ‘There, you’re on your own. Come on.’
He took her hand, batted the bugs out of the way and led her over to a low stone wall. Apart from the odd wooden structure behind them, there wasn’t a light to be seen anywhere, but the moon that was starting to rise was absolutely huge, the largest Rosie had ever seen, and the stars lit up the landscape so it didn’t feel dark, not really, not like down in the Lipton valley in the depths of winter when the clouds rolled off the dales and you could barely see the icy breath in front of your face.
‘You never know who’s going to like it and who’s going to hate it,’ Stephen said. ‘Sometimes the most unlikely kids come out here and just get stuck in and have a marvellous time.’
‘Like Prince Harry,’ said Rosie promptly.
‘Ha. Well I don’t know about that. But then other people who really want to be here and do good, they can’t bear it. Can’t bear seeing people suffering, and living in hardship.’
‘And getting their faces eaten,’ pointed out Rosie, flailing at another mosquito.
‘And that. Can’t live without eyelash extensions, that kind of thing.’
‘Well you always knew how high-maintenance I was.’
She looked up. One star was glittering more brightly than the rest. ‘It’s beautiful here. And I’m getting in the mood to think about our wedding again. Can’t you propose to me? Just one more time.’
‘No! I did it already! And my knee isn’t up to it.’
‘It’s so dry and warm here,’ said Rosie. ‘Ideal conditions, I’d have said.’
‘You’ve got a big insect bite on your face.’
‘So you DO want to take it back?’
Rosie was pretending to take her ring off, and Stephen was observing that she couldn’t seem to get it over her finger and had she started putting loads of weight on already, and was he too going to let himself go and grow man-boobs, when Faustine appeared with two plates of food.
‘I got them to make it specially,’ she said, watching unsmilingly as they horsed around. They followed her to an outside table. Two men sitting there shook Stephen’s hand but looked at Rosie suspiciously. She fiddled again with her ring, then sat down.
The food wasn’t at all bad: grain, tomatoes and stringy chicken.
‘You got meat?’ said Stephen cheerfully. ‘You’re good.’
‘You’re paying for it,’ said Faustine.
Once they had eaten, Rosie began to feel incredibly sleepy. They had had a very long day.
The wigwam-shaped building with bunks round the walls was cooled by a wheezing, anaemic fan, though Rosie was so exhausted she hardly noticed it. She did what she could in the toilet area, which was not much, brushed her teeth, kissed Stephen good night – he was sitting outside by the campfire, drinking some kind of tea and speaking in French again – and fell asleep in minutes, listening to the scuffling noises of animals, the quiet murmur of voices and the buzz of the mosquitoes in the room (she was under a net Stephen had bought her, and she thought fuzzily that she might just wear it all the time). The glimpse of the bright stars through the little hole at the top of the wigwam was the final thing she registered before dropping off into a surprisingly deep sleep.
Chapter Six
O Little Town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight
Rosie woke, hot, thirsty and disorientated, with bright sunlight heating up the structure from outside. There was no one in there with her, but the other bunks had been slept in. She got up, stretching and cursing her hair, which had now frizzed out about a metre either side of her head. She thought of the chic scarf tying back Faustine’s hair. She needed one of those.
‘They are,’ said Stephen, batting them away. ‘But look.’
Over the flat plains in the distance, the bright orange-gold sun was sinking at a rate faster than Rosie would have believed possible. As it did so, the sky took on a fierce flat line of bright purple. The sun dipped quickly behind the mountain range in the distance, the purple flared brightly then turned speedily to black and, like diamonds popping out of a necklace, suddenly there was one star, then another, then another, and within minutes the entire sky was raining on them, great crystal stars so close Rosie felt she could put out her hand and simply pluck them down.
‘Oh my,’ she breathed.
Stephen came across from behind the van to the rock by the side of the road she was standing on.
‘I know,’ said Stephen. He touched her shoulder and, meeting no resistance, moved his arm around her. It felt like they were the only two human beings on the face of the earth. She had never felt further away from home, nor more in touch with the planet she’d been born on. She turned her face to his.
‘I should have told you,’ she said.
‘You should have.’
‘I’m sorry. Everything felt so—’
‘You do this all the time, Rosie. You’re worried I’m too fragile for bad news.’
Rosie nodded.
‘I know. I know. I don’t mean to, but—’
‘You don’t need to protect me. But you do need to let me protect you when it matters.’
Rosie shook her head, and he took her in his arms.
‘Aren’t we a team?’
Rosie nodded again.
‘Are we going to get through this together?’
‘I was hoping I’d think up a really good way how.’
Stephen smiled.
‘And stun me with your amazing genius?’
‘Something like that.’
He shook his head.
‘There is only one way, Rosie. Together. That’s the only way. Whatever happens.’
She looked up into his face, almost more handsome for being unshaven.
‘All right,’ she breathed. ‘Okay.’
‘Good.’ Stephen turned her to face the sky. ‘Because together, we’re amazing. Look where we are!’
Rosie took in a great breath of the warm, scented air.
‘What can’t we get through together?’
‘Nothing,’ said Rosie.
‘Apart from that squat toilet,’ said Stephen. ‘There, you’re on your own. Come on.’
He took her hand, batted the bugs out of the way and led her over to a low stone wall. Apart from the odd wooden structure behind them, there wasn’t a light to be seen anywhere, but the moon that was starting to rise was absolutely huge, the largest Rosie had ever seen, and the stars lit up the landscape so it didn’t feel dark, not really, not like down in the Lipton valley in the depths of winter when the clouds rolled off the dales and you could barely see the icy breath in front of your face.
‘You never know who’s going to like it and who’s going to hate it,’ Stephen said. ‘Sometimes the most unlikely kids come out here and just get stuck in and have a marvellous time.’
‘Like Prince Harry,’ said Rosie promptly.
‘Ha. Well I don’t know about that. But then other people who really want to be here and do good, they can’t bear it. Can’t bear seeing people suffering, and living in hardship.’
‘And getting their faces eaten,’ pointed out Rosie, flailing at another mosquito.
‘And that. Can’t live without eyelash extensions, that kind of thing.’
‘Well you always knew how high-maintenance I was.’
She looked up. One star was glittering more brightly than the rest. ‘It’s beautiful here. And I’m getting in the mood to think about our wedding again. Can’t you propose to me? Just one more time.’
‘No! I did it already! And my knee isn’t up to it.’
‘It’s so dry and warm here,’ said Rosie. ‘Ideal conditions, I’d have said.’
‘You’ve got a big insect bite on your face.’
‘So you DO want to take it back?’
Rosie was pretending to take her ring off, and Stephen was observing that she couldn’t seem to get it over her finger and had she started putting loads of weight on already, and was he too going to let himself go and grow man-boobs, when Faustine appeared with two plates of food.
‘I got them to make it specially,’ she said, watching unsmilingly as they horsed around. They followed her to an outside table. Two men sitting there shook Stephen’s hand but looked at Rosie suspiciously. She fiddled again with her ring, then sat down.
The food wasn’t at all bad: grain, tomatoes and stringy chicken.
‘You got meat?’ said Stephen cheerfully. ‘You’re good.’
‘You’re paying for it,’ said Faustine.
Once they had eaten, Rosie began to feel incredibly sleepy. They had had a very long day.
The wigwam-shaped building with bunks round the walls was cooled by a wheezing, anaemic fan, though Rosie was so exhausted she hardly noticed it. She did what she could in the toilet area, which was not much, brushed her teeth, kissed Stephen good night – he was sitting outside by the campfire, drinking some kind of tea and speaking in French again – and fell asleep in minutes, listening to the scuffling noises of animals, the quiet murmur of voices and the buzz of the mosquitoes in the room (she was under a net Stephen had bought her, and she thought fuzzily that she might just wear it all the time). The glimpse of the bright stars through the little hole at the top of the wigwam was the final thing she registered before dropping off into a surprisingly deep sleep.
Chapter Six
O Little Town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight
Rosie woke, hot, thirsty and disorientated, with bright sunlight heating up the structure from outside. There was no one in there with her, but the other bunks had been slept in. She got up, stretching and cursing her hair, which had now frizzed out about a metre either side of her head. She thought of the chic scarf tying back Faustine’s hair. She needed one of those.
