25, Chapel Lane. (A Christmas Tale.)

Mrs Roberts dropped a fifty pence piece into David’s frozen hand.
“That was lovely.” she said, pulling her cardigan closed tight.
“Thank you.” said David, echoed by his two young friends.
“Happy Christmas. And remember me to your parent’s wont you.”
Mrs Roberts closed the door causing a large clump of snow to fall from the holly wreath tied to the knocker. The three young carol singers crunched back up the garden path and out into the deserted lane. Their wellingtons flattened the fresh snow that had settled even as they sang. Thick flakes fell silently to the ground, fluttering around the dim yellow light of an ancient street lamp.
“I’m starving. Is there any chocolate left ?” asked the always hungry Ben.
They stopped beneath the lamp and Mandy pulled out the remains of a chocolate bar. “Three pieces. One each.” Mandy shared out the chocolate then quickly tucked her hands under her arms for warmth.
“How much have we got ?” asked Ben, wiping a dribble of chocolate from his chin. “About six pounds I think.” said David.
“That’s enough. Come on, let’s go home. I’m freezing”. Mandy rubbed her frozen nose with the back of her woollen glove.
“Me too.” agreed David.
The youngsters headed for home, walking down the middle of the deserted lane, where the fresh snow was smooth and thick. They laughed as they sang a version of Good King Wenceslas that their mothers wouldn’t have liked.
Ben dropped behind his two friends and surreptitiously rolled a snowball.
Mandy screamed when it hit her on the back of her head, sending icy snow trickling inside her scarf. A deadly snowball fight followed with no mercy given.
“I know, let’s count the money.” said Ben when he realised he was getting the worst of it. He brushed the snow off a low garden wall and David emptied his pockets of the night’s takings. He was the eldest by two months, so the job of ‘treasurer’ had automatically fallen to him. He counted the money into neat piles denoted by size and shape of the coins.
Somebody had slipped in a ten franc piece which they gave to Mandy because she knew a complete sentence in French. She didn’t tell the boys that it meant;
“Where are the toilets ?”
“Five pounds and seventy seven pence.” David announced grandly.
“What’s that each then ?” asked Ben. He looked at David, expecting his benefit of age to endow him with superior mathematical skill. None of them could work out the tricky sum.
“Another twenty three pence and it would have been two pounds each.” said Mandy proudly.
Let’s work it out at home. My toes have gone numb.” said David stamping his feet. The money was dropped back into David’s duffle coat pocket and they all set off for home once more. They hadn’t gone more than a few yards when Ben stopped and pointed.
“Look, there’s another house up there. We haven’t been to that one yet.
David and Mandy followed the direction of Ben’s gaze. Across the lane was a tall bramble hedge. A small gap in the hedge was barred by a low wooden gate.
Beyond it, was a long, winding driveway with a faint light glowing in the distance.
“I don’t remember that house.” said Mandy, puzzled.
“Nor me.” said David. “Who lives up there ?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, we didn’t come this way before.” said Ben.
“Yes we did. Look, there’s that stingy house that gave us five pence.” Mandy pointed across the lane.
“And there’s that tree we threw snowballs at because it looks like Mr Griffin.” David quickly rolled a snowball and threw it against the tree with a triumphant yell. “Well it doesn’t matter anyway. Come on. We missed this one.” Ben headed across the lane towards the gate in the hedge.
“No. I’m cold. Come on let’s go home.” said Mandy nervously. She felt uneasy about this odd house that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“Oh come on. One last try. We might make it six pounds. That’s two pounds each.” said Ben.
“It’s up to David.” said Mandy. Sensing, correctly that David didn’t want to go either. David though, didn’t want to look like a cissy. And besides, he knew that when they got home, his two friends would want him to work out threes into five pounds and seventy seven pence. Six pounds was a lot easier.
“Come on then.” he said reluctantly. “Just one more.”
Ben led the way through the gate into the long dark driveway. David followed, immediately wishing he could change his mind. He looked at the name plate on the gate: ‘Twenty Five Chapel Lane.’
“There isn’t a Twenty Five Chapel Lane.” he thought.
Mandy dragged grudgingly behind, stepping into the deep footprints of the two boys. She looked behind her, longingly at the gap in the hedge.
There were no footprints in the snow and no gate anywhere to be seen.
“The snow must be coming down really thick now.” she thought, as she ran to catch up with the boys.
As they trudged through the snow towards the distant light, a building gradually appeared out of the night. At first, from the front, it looked like an old derelict cottage. But as they got nearer, they could see that the sides had beautiful, tall, stained glass windows that disappeared far back into the snowy
darkness. Covering the front entrance was a rude porch, open to the elements. Just a low brick wall and two solid oak beams holding up the roof that covered an arched front door with stained glass windows.
From one corner of the porch, hung a lantern containing a flickering candle. The light that had brought them from the lane. Just outside the porch, stood a large stone birdbath, like a sentinel, guarding the entrance.
“I didn’t know this house was here.” said David in astonishment.
“Come on.” said Mandy nervously. “There’s nobody in. Let’s go home.”
“We’re here now. We might as well try.” Ben stepped into the porch without waiting for an answer. He took out his book of Christmas carols and opened it at Silent Night. He began to sing in a clear, confident voice.
David and Mandy looked hopelessly at each other, both wishing they’d gone home. Then they squashed up against Ben and joined in. They had reached the end of the first verse, when a flickering light appeared behind the stained glass of the door. The glass lit up with images of beatific angels and cherubs watching over Joseph and Mary and the baby in the manger. The flickering light seemed to make the images move as though they were alive.
Mandy gasped in admiration, then stepped back warily as a heavy bolt slid back on the other side of the door. David faltered to a halt as the door creaked open. A young man with olive coloured skin, raven hair and a beard appeared holding a candle. The dim light couldn’t hide the man’s old and frayed clothes, partly covered by a large shawl over his shoulders. Ben finally joined his friends in silence, mouth agape.
“Please, that is beautiful. Do carry on.” the man spoke in a warm, friendly, gentle voice. Ben elbowed his two friends and they self consciously sang the second verse. As they reached the end, the man raised his hand to stop them going any further.
“I can see you’re frozen.” he said. “I’m afraid we have nothing to give ….”
“Yes we have.” a voice came from behind the man.
A woman appeared at the door, dark and tanned, like the man. She was carrying three earthen mugs of steaming hot orange juice.
“Here warm your hands on these.” she said.
The children gratefully accepted the hot drinks, smiling to each other as they felt their insides warming. From inside the house, a baby let out a cry.
“Wont you step inside until you’re finished. The baby may catch a chill.” the woman gestured inside. The thawing friends stepped warily into the hallway as the couple went to tend to the baby. Once inside, they exchanged silent frowns as they witnessed the stark surroundings. The floorboards were bare, and there was no furniture. The plaster walls were cracked and the only light was from the candle the man had left on the bare stairs. And yet, somehow, it felt right. Comfortable. Unthreatening. Even familiar.
Mandy finished her drink and looked for somewhere to put down her mug.
There was nowhere. She craned her neck to see into the room where the couple had gone. By the light of an open fire, she saw a baby lying awake in a crude cot.
“Ahh.” she cooed involuntarily.
She stepped into the doorway and the man came to take her mug.
“Warmer now ?” he asked.
“Yes thank you. Can I see…………..” she stopped, unsure whether to ask.
The man followed her gaze.
“You want to see the baby ?”
“Oh can I ?”
“Of course. Come and see.”
Mandy stepped into the room, followed ruefully by the boys. She leaned over the cot, making baby noises. The baby smiled and gurgled happily back.
“He’s gorgeous. What’s his name ?”
“We haven’t decided yet.” said the woman, coming to the cot.
“Would you like to hold him ?” she picked up the baby and placed him carefully into Mandy’s arms, his face glowed in the firelight. Mandy snuggled him close and felt deeply calm and serene in a way she’d never known before.
“We only needed another twenty three pence to make six pounds tonight.”
Ben was only trying to be friendly, but as soon as he spoke, he wished he hadn’t.
Especially after David elbowed him in the ribs.
“You deserved it.” said the man. “You sang beautifully. I wish we could give you something.”
“I wasn’t hinting.” said Ben, feeling ashamed.
“You did give us something.” said Mandy. “You gave us that hot drink.”
The man smiled at her as though she were a long lost friend.
David had been quietly looking around the room, which was lit only by the blazing fire. It was almost as naked as the hallway. Just two wooden stools and a simple table by the fire. The only concession to Christmas was a small tree standing in a dark corner. It was undecorated apart from a cross on top.
“Why don’t you turn the lights on ?” he asked innocently.
“We have no money for lighting.” said the woman without any embarrassment.
Now Ben felt even worse about his careless comment.
“I suppose you’ve spent everything on presents for the baby ?” said Mandy, trying to give them an escape route they didn’t need.
“I’ve made this for him.” the man produced a small wood carving of a donkey.
“That’s lovely.” said Mandy. She didn’t mean it, but it seemed the right thing to say. “I think we’d better be going now.” said David, putting his empty mug down by the fireside. Mandy kissed the baby on the cheek and handed him to his mother. The man showed the children to the door. “Thanks for the drink.” David was echoed again by his two friends. “Thank you for taking the trouble to sing for us.” said the man. “Not many people do any more.”
“We didn’t know anyone lived here.” Ben said defensively.
“Oh we don’t live here.” said the man. “This is my Father’s house. He’s happy for us to use it whenever we need.”
“Does he still live here ?” asked David.
“Yes, he still lives here. replied the man, smiling. He was still holding the carving of the donkey. “Is that really all the baby’s getting for Christmas ?” asked Mandy. “It’s enough. He’ll have special gifts when he’s older.”
The man wished them Happy Christmas and watched as they walked away into the night. “God Bless You.” he shouted, before closing the door.
The children made their way back down the long driveway. No one spoke.
The only sound was the crunching of their feet against the deep snow.
They were within sight of the lane when Mandy suddenly stopped and announced without warning;
“I’m going to give them my share of the money.”
“What ? You must be mad.” said Ben, astonished at the thought.
“No I’m not. They are so poor.”
“Did you see their clothes ?” added David.
“And the baby’s only getting that wooden carving for Christmas.” Mandy was genuinely saddened by the thought.
“But we haven’t worked out the money yet.” protested Ben.
“Well just give me some then.” Mandy demanded.
“I’ll put mine as well.” David volunteered.
“But what if they wont take it ? They might be insulted.” said Ben, desperately.
Mandy and David looked at each other. They hadn’t thought of that.
“I know. We can leave it in the porch.” said Mandy. “They are bound to find it there.” “Good idea. They can’t refuse it then.” said David, pulling the money from his pocket.
“We can put it in this.” Mandy took a child’s purse, covered in coloured beads, from inside her coat. It was empty apart from a used bus ticket and her newly acquired ten franc piece.
“But we still don’t know how much we’ve got each.” Ben pleaded.
“It doesn’t matter. Hold out your hands.” said David.
Mandy held the purse open and David began dividing the money, dropping two coins into the purse and one into Ben’s hands.
“Me, Mandy, Ben. Me Mandy Ben.” he had repeated this several times, when Ben gave in. “Oh it doesn’t matter. Put it all in.” he tipped his share into the purse. “I knew you weren’t really that mean.” said Mandy snapping the bulging purse shut. “Well, they were kind to us weren’t they.” Ben blushed.
“Whose going to go back with it ?” asked David, expecting to be nominated as usual by misfortune of age. They all looked at each other nervously. None of them fancied the long walk back in the dark or the possibility of offending the couple if they were caught leaving ‘charity.’
“Give it to me. I’ll go.” said Ben, trying to make up for his earlier stinginess.
David and Mandy watched as Ben headed back to the house and disappeared into the snowy gloom.
Ben reached the porch and took the purse from his pocket.
For one weak moment, he hesitated and looked inside the purse.
He was tempted to take a few coins. Nobody would know after all. But his good nature prevailed, aided by guilt, and the thought quickly passed. He quietly placed the purse on the ground in front of the door and backed slowly out of the porch. Just then, a large lump of snow fell from the porch roof, covering Ben’s head and shoulders and sliding icily down his neck. Another lump fell onto the lantern and the candle guttered out. Ben cursed and stumbled as he quickly brushed off the snow. Then, out of the dark night, something heavy struck him in the back. His heart almost jumped out of his chest and he let out an enormous scream. He turned round expecting to see a slavering monster about to eat him. The heavy stone birdbath toppled and fell to the ground. Ben turned and ran for all he was worth back down the driveway towards the lane.
Mandy and David saw Ben running towards them like an express train coming out of the darkness. They didn’t wait for an explanation. They turned and ran for their lives. Ben went past them like the wind. They headed for the large bramble hedge but there was no sign of the gate. When they were almost on top of the hedge and about to run straight through it, the branches seemed to part and the open gate appeared. The three children went through the gate in one mangled heap and ran all the way home without another word.
“Well, was it worth it ? You look frozen.” David’s mother picked his coat up from the floor and watched him pull off his wellingtons.
“Yes. We got more than last year.” “Let’s see then. What are you going to buy me ” she joked as she hung his coat up tidily.
“Well, I haven’t actually got it any more.”
“You haven’t lost it again ?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“Well you can’t have spent it. There’s nowhere open.”
“We gave it all away. To the people in the old house in Chapel Lane.”
“What, Mrs Roberts ? asked David’s mother, astounded.
“No. Across the road. It’s got a big hedge with a gate and a long driveway.”
“There isn’t a house across the road. Mrs Roberts’ is the last house up that lane.” “Yes there is.” David insisted. “Number twenty five. It’s got an old porch on the front and great big tall windows down the side. And there’s a birdbath outside the front door.”
“Listen Mr.” David’s mother poked him playfully in the chest. Don’t you play jokes on me. Just you remember what day it is tomorrow.”
“I’m not. Honest. They asked us in and gave us hot orange juice and Mandy played with their baby.”
David’s mother gave him a long hard look. She could see he was being serious.
She went to the book case and after searching for a few seconds, she pulled out a dog eared book of local history. She flicked through the pages of sepia photos surrounded by chapters of long forgotten events and people and buildings.
“Is this it ?” she asked, handing David the open book.
There was a faded photograph of the building he’d left minutes earlier.
“Yes. That’s it.” he said, victorious. “You see, I wasn’t joking.”
His mother gave him a cynical glance.
“Just one problem. That’s the old village chapel. It burnt down fifty years ago. On Christmas Eve. It was never re-built. All that’s there now is the overgrown churchyard.”
“But it was there. We went inside. We gave them our money.”
David stared at the picture in silence.
“I think we’ll take a walk tomorrow before you open your presents.” his mother sounded sterner now. “We’ll see for ourselves shall we. Then I want to know what you really did with your money.”
At nine o clock on Christmas morning, David’s kitchen was alive with people.
Ben was there with his father. Mandy was there with both her parents.
The phones had been red hot the previous night. All the parents had heard the same story and all insisted on a trip to Chapel Lane.
“Alright then. Where is it ?” Ben’s father stood, looking at the solid bramble hedge. It obviously hadn’t been cut in many years.
“There was gap. It must be here somewhere.” said Ben.
“Through here.” shouted Mandy’s father from further along the lane. He was holding back the hedge with his shoulders, forming an arch against the overgrown brambles.
A line of people, looking like a Christmas conga chain, all ducked under the brambles into the overrun church yard. David was the last one through.
He paused for a second when something caught his attention. It was a rotting wooden gate, lying crookedly on one hinge and intertwined with brambles.
He could just make out the number twenty five.
“This can’t be it.” he puzzled to himself, before Mandy’s dad, still holding up the brambles hurried him along.
On the other side, the children were horrified to see where they were. There was nothing except a few dozen old gravestones, all leaning drunkenly with age.
Mandy shuddered to think she’d been here late last night. The boys exchanged a look of total confusion.
“Where’s this house then ?” asked David’s mother.
There was nothing to be seen.
“Over here.” called Ben’s father from some distance away. He was looking at something on the ground.
“Someone’s been here.” he said when the others joined him. There was a neat hole in the snow containing the remains of a fire.
“It must be recent.” said Mandy’s mother. “It didn’t stop snowing until late.
“David, Mandy. Look at this.” Ben was leaning over something, brushing the snow off. “It’s the bird bath.” said Mandy.
“I knocked this over last night.” said Ben. “That’s why I was running. I thought it was a monster.” The children laughed.
“It’s not a birdbath.” said Mandy’s father, brushing more snow off. “It’s the old font from the chapel. Look, it’s still got an inscription on it. ‘Blessed Are The Children In My Fathers’ House.’”
“That’s what he said.” chorused all three children together.
“That’s what who said ” asked Mandy’s mother.
“The man. Last night. said Mandy. David continued;
“He said it wasn’t his house. It was his Fathers.”
The parents all looked at each other and shook their heads knowingly.
“A vagrant probably. On the meths no doubt.” said Ben’s father.
The parents all nodded in mature agreement.
“Isn’t this yours Mandy ?” Mandy turned to see David’s mother pulling something from the snow.
“My purse.” squealed Mandy excitedly. She took it and looked inside, disappointed at what she saw.
“It’s still there.” she showed the boys the money.
“Brill. Now we can share it out.” said Ben gleefully.
David gave him a sly kick to shut him up.
“But I wanted them to have it. They were so poor.” Mandy looked sadly at the money. “So you were here last night then.” Mandy’s father was annoyed.
“I told you we were.” replied Mandy.
Mandy’s father scolded her for being so silly to come to a place like this late at night. She was forbidden to go carol singing again next year.
David got the same lecture from his mother.
“You should have known better David. Fancy bringing Mandy and Ben somewhere like this late at night.”
“But there was a house here.” protested David.
Ben stepped between David and Mandy, taking their hands in his.
They didn’t want to come. I made them. They followed me. There was a house here and they gave us orange juice.”
“That’s enough from you too.” said Ben’s father. “You’ll be having an early night tonight. Vagrants indeed.”
All the parents agreed and marched the chastened trio back home, warning them to say away from strangers.
That evening, the family’s all arrived at Mandy’s house for there usual Christmas evening get together. The adults gathered in the sitting room, drinking wine and discussing, sagely, the responsibilities of being a parent and keeping their offspring safe from harm. The children sat around the kitchen table with fizzy pop and mince pies. They discussed the injustice of being young and how parents never believed them. They compared their presents as usual, but they weren’t quite so excited about them as previous years. Somehow, they didn’t seem quite so important.
“I don’t ever want to be a grown up.” said Ben. “They think they know everything.” “Why wouldn’t they believe us ?” asked Mandy.
“I suppose they were worried.” said David. “After all, the house wasn’t there today was it.” “Weird.” said Mandy. “And finding my purse there too.”
“The purse.” Ben almost shouted. “Let’s share out the money.”
Mandy got her purse and tipped the money onto the table.
“You do it David. I can’t do threes into five pounds and seventy seven pence.”
David divided the coins into three equal piles, counting aloud. He reached last night’s total of five pounds and seventy seven pence and to everyone’s surprise, he kept on counting.
“Five pounds eighty. Five pounds ninety. Six pounds. Exactly two pounds each.
The children stared at the money in confusion.
“But we didn’t get any more money.” said Ben finally.
“What’s this ?” asked Mandy, pulling a scrap of paper from the purse and reading. “Thank you for the kind thought. Mary.”
“They must have found the money after all.” said David.
“And put some extra in.” said Ben, confused.
“But they had nothing to give us.” puzzled Mandy.
Their confusion was interrupted by Mandy’s father coming into the kitchen and placing on the table a roughly made wooden box tied with string.
“Someone just knocked the door and left this on the doorstep.” he said.
“Who was it ?” asked Mandy.
“No idea. There was nobody there, but I guess it’s for you three.”
David read the label tied to the box.
“For the children. Thank you for the beautiful carol singing. Joseph.”
“So who’s Joseph then. Someone from school ?” asked Mandy’s father.
Mandy gasped, as she looked again at the name on the note from the purse.
“Mary and Joseph.
“Wow.” was all Ben could say as he quickly untied the string around the box.
The box fell open to reveal, nestled in a pile of straw, three, wooden, carved donkeys. The children silently took one each, hugged them close to their chests, and looked at each other, dumbstruck.
“Maybe they’re still outside.” said David suddenly.
The three children ran to the window and peered out onto a deserted snow covered street.
“Look at that.” said Ben, staring into the night sky.
David and Mandy followed his gaze. There was the biggest, brightest star they had ever seen. It seemed to be shining directly at them, lighting their faces in a golden glow. Mandy felt the same, deep serenity that she’d experienced the previous night, holding the baby. Like being wrapped in a blanket of love and safety. This time the boys felt it too.
“We met Mary and Joseph. said David, awestruck.
“I held baby Jesus.” said Mandy dreamily.
“This is the best Christmas present ever.” said Ben, admiring his wooden donkey.
Mandy and David agreed.
As they gazed at the beautiful star above them, the children linked arms and each held their wooden donkey as though it were a priceless jewel.
“And they gave us twenty three pence.” said Ben.

END