Once a year – /In Perpetuity/

1

“We simply must do something about this place, or we are going to be stuck here all winter.” Audrey snapped at Alan.2

“I know dear, but we can’t buy anything if there is nothing on the market.”3

“There’s a stack of land around, surely we could have something built?”4

“Most of the land is green belt, there is a possibility they might de-regulate some of it – but not this year… I’m afraid we’ll just have to go on looking.” Alan sighed.5

Alan had no less desire than his wife to move, for the house they had bought was badly placed in a small depression. Lost to them were the spectacular views across the downs, which houses a little up and down the road enjoyed. 6

The house had been built by a firm called Schaffer & Gates, which Alan had altered to cheap & skate, not without some justification, for the only corners not to have been cut were the ones that should have been.7

“What about that plot up on the hill?” Audrey asked; she was not a person that gave up easily.8

“What plot’s that then?”9

“You know, at then end of Maple Close, a bit along from the rest of the houses – it looks like there could have been a house there before, so it can’t be green belt.”10

Alan shrugged. “I haven’t seen it.”11

“There is something odd though, I asked Mrs. Webber about it when she came and she wouldn’t say a word about it.”12

“That is odd,” Alan snorted, “She usually does more chatting than cleaning! I’ll ask old Bill when he comes around to do the lawn tomorrow; he’ll know for sure, he’s lived here since the year dot.”13

The following day the weather had declined into a miserable drizzle and Alan found Bill in the greenhouse. “Hi Bill – lovely isn’t it?”14

“Ar, weather’s on the turn I reckon.” Bill agreed.15

“How long have you lived in Holt, Bill?” Alan knew that the best way to approach any subject with the elderly jobbing gardener was with a little reminiscence.16

Bill smilled. “Well, I were born here in nineteen twenty… but I been about a bit. There was the war and I stayed on in the navy for awhile after. You know I’ve seen all seven seas and put a foot on all the continents – ‘cept the Antarctic?”17

“Good heavens, I had no idea.” Alan said, genuinely surprised.18

“That be the truth, but I had to come back, this village pulls.”19

“I’m sure most people are happier with their roots.” Alan said, slightly patronizingly.20

The old man gave Alan an odd look; his strong gnarled features twisted a little for a moment as he paused in his work, then he sighed, “I dare say you are right.” Bill made the statement mean a lot more – perhaps: ‘You’re way up a gum tree – but if you can’t see it then why should I explain’ - would have been closer. 21

After a moment of introverted silence in which Alan tried to work out the code, Bill spoke again. “You’re an outsider, so it’s not the same for you but you have taken to Holt pretty strong – am I right?”22

The question made Alan consider his feelings for the first time. “I suppose you are.” he mused “I certainly wouldn’t want to move away now.”23

“Ah, that’s how it takes some, and we that’s born here often feel it stronger… not always ‘course – there are some can’t get away quick enough; but them it do take though – well… I signed on in the Navy afore conscription; I hardly even gave the village a thought - travelled far and wide, seen places few have seen even in this jet age, but when me time was up, I couldn’t think of anything but getting back. Weren’t no woman here waiting, me parents had passed on, not even a job to come back to, but I could have as easy ignored the call as fly. Reckon it must be the same as eels.”24

      There was a short moment while Alan tried to assimilate this, then, “Eels?” he asked.25

“You know ‘bout eels, travels all over the world, then the call comes, they’re the right size or something and back they has to go, back to the Sargosso, been there, not much of a place, but they has to go an that’s that.”26

There was a long still moment and Bill had potted up a few more cuttings before Alan spoke again.27

“We were trying to find another house somewhere around the village — you don’t know of anything?” Alan asked, edging towards the real subject he wanted to talk about.28

“Funny that - houses all’s seem to come at right time for new folks but once you’re here, don’t seem much about.”29

“Surely some of the houses are new?”30

“Ah,” Bill agreed, readily. “But not many, you look over Edenbridge way or almost anywhere, thousands of new places, a springing up like mushrooms.”31

“I thought that if we could find an empty plot, we might have a place built.”32

Bill’s aged pale eyes stared at Alan for a moment. “Ah, I dare say.”33

“I had wondered about that plot at the end of Maple Close?”34

Had Alan fired a gun, Bill would have been less startled. He stared at Alan for so long that Alan began to squirm under the old man’s narrowed smoky grey eyes.35

When he spoke, Bill’s voice seemed to have taken on a new strength and timbre. “That plot’s taken. You’d best forget it. Now I’d better be getting on, if you’ll excuse me36

The dismissal was final. Alan left his greenhouse very puzzled.37

“You could see in his eyes, it was as if steel shutters had come down, bang! Finish.” Alan told Audrey that night. “We were chatting away, and then I asked about Maple Close and wallop! End of conversation.”38

“I wonder what it is about that place?”39

During the following week, Audrey made some very subtle enquiries about Maple Close but no villager would say a single word about the empty site, at the very mention of it the air seemed to become chilly.40

Alan had been away at work through the week and so missed the reaction of the locals — he had received a second-hand account from Audrey but not felt enough to make him abandon the idea. So on Saturday he walked up to look at the piece of land.41

The weeds were thick and a few young trees grew on the plot but Alan could make out where the footings of a house had been. Nothing else remained, there were no signs of bricks or timbers. The garden was too far gone to see how it had been cultivated and Alan could not gain access to the half acre or so, for a fearsome, if aging, barbed wire fence surrounded it; with no apparent opening.42

‘It must be one of the choicest sites in the whole village.’ Alan concluded. ‘Superb views in all directions, and the nearest house a hundred yards away.’ Alan could not work out why the house had gone or why the villagers were so taciturn on the subject.43

Over the next few months he made discreet enquiries about the plot but always ran into a solid wall of silence. He could find neither owner nor anyone who would even speak about the space at the end of Maple Close.44

Audrey had given up the idea of moving before spring, and Alan too had become more settled into the house, after all — he would say, it was no effort to walk a little way to get the views. Somehow his walks for fresh air or to see the views, almost always led him to the top of Maple Close.45

Alan had finished work for the Christmas holiday and had been pottering around in the greenhouse, when Bill arrived.46

“This is unexpected Bill, I won’t have anything for you to do before early spring.”47

“Not work, I’ve got to have a word with you.”48

Alan noticed the old man’s eyes. A strange bright light shone in them. “Come into the house then, we’ll take a nip.”49

“Your missus home?”50

“Yes, is it important?”51

“Rather speak to you man to man, as it were — if you decide to talk to her after...” Bill left the words drifting in the air.52

Alan, who had at first been amused by the old man’s serious mien, now felt a chill of foreboding.53

“Here then.” Alan gave Bill one of the potting stools from under the bench and took a bottle from the small cupboard. “My argument settler, if things get too fraught,” Alan pointed to the house. “I come out and do a bit of potting.” Alan poured the amber liquid into two small, pot shaped glasses. The humour seemed to die in the air, old Bill didn’t even smile.54

“I’d a not said a word, but you been up there quite a few times, I just couldn’t risk you going up there on Friday.”55

“Maple Close?” Alan asked.56

“Ah.”57

The temperature dropped sharply in the greenhouse, as if the door had been opened and a wind straight from the pole had swept in. Alan felt the hairs on his neck rise.58

Bill knocked back the drink as if it had been water. “Dutch Courage.” he stated flatly, holding out his glass for a refill.59

“Look, if you want me to stay away from that place, just say so, you don’t have to tell me anything - I’ll take your advice.” Alan said, a slight tremor in his voice.60

“You be one of the village now, you past the four month, you should know. First thing is the village - you remember what I told you ‘efor?”61

“About some people taking to it and others flitting off?”62

“Ah, well that’s only part of it.” Bill took another hefty swig. “There’s something holds the village in its hands - not bad - and maybe not good neither… but it looks after folks as takes to it. Accidents away from the village aside, you an’ your missus is sure to die here now — but not soon.” Bill said, at the look of horror on Alan’s face. “No, most folks make about ninety, sometimes a bit more, sometimes a few years less.”63

“You’re telling me that the village has some kind of guardian angel?” Alan said softly.64

“You call it what you like, I dare say whatever name you give it, you’ll be a mile wide of the mark. You know Holt is mentioned in the Domesday Book?”65

Alan shook his head.66

“An’ how many people you think lived here then?”67

Alan shrugged.68

“A thousand. An’ now there’s nine hundred and ninety six, nigh on a thousand years and been the same number all the while.”69

“But surely it must vary when someone has children?” Alan protested.70

“Ah, right enough, it varies for a few years, always comes back to the number though when one of the oldest dies— save once.”71

There was a long still moment as Alan refilled the glasses again.72

“And that were what happened up on Maple Close.” Bill restarted. “It were Christmas morning....”73

Margaret stood for a moment. ‘How I love Christmas.’ she thought. ‘How can mothers and wives complain? Of course there’s a lot to do but how perfect it all is.’ She glanced at the tree, standing in its finery, the children’s parcels ready and eager to be opened after lunch; the decorations making the warm cosy room beautiful. She looked beyond, through the window. ‘The perfect Christmas!’74

Snow had fallen heavily in the early hours and the view across the hills was sublime. The trees coated down to the finest twig, the worn-out garden asleep now below the blanket of shining white. The clouds having left their Christmas present - had passed on and the sun shone. The scene was just like one of the cards that hung in the hall. Margaret went back to the kitchen humming ‘We Three Kings’.75

The turkey and the roasting potatoes were suffusing the air with appetizing scents. The other vegetables were ready and waiting.76

‘I wonder how much longer they’ll be?’ Margaret turned the gas oven down a little, she had no trouble with the new gas and the scent of the food, the gentle simmering noises, made her smile.77

‘I expect they’ll soon be home.’ She thought of the twins. They would be back, cold and tired, their faces glowing from the fresh air and hopefully hungry.78

And Henry?79

He was a lot better now but he would never be quite the man that had left to serve his country. If Margaret had one regret, it must surely be that her husband was one of the uncounted casualties.80

Korea. The word still gave her a shiver, if she heard it mentioned on the radio or television. It no longer had the same effect on Henry, but Margaret could never hear it without thinking of how Henry had been. A plane passing innocently overhead and he would throw himself flat on the ground, a car backfiring would send him into shivers for hours. And the dreams. It was years before they had begun to fade and even now, once in a while he would wake up drenched in sweat and shaking.81

      ‘Is your husband an American?’ ‘Did we have men out there?’… People asked such questions - people who didn’t know Henry, most people didn’t even know British troops had been involved - let alone unmanned.82

He had never told her just what had happened, never opened up the wound to cleanse it. At first she had left well alone and then it had seemed too late, too painful, for her to open the old wounds even if it was to cauterise them.83

They would soon be home now, the fresh air and exercise. Pulling the twins on the sledge would have brought the colour to Henry’s cheeks and perhaps the shadows would have been driven back a little further from his eyes, after all, it was Christmas.84

“I always liked Christmas.” Bill stated. “An’ that particular year was looking to be one of the best, but I’m a running ahead. The house was twenty two Maple Close. The couple as lived there was both born in Holt, Henry Spice - son of Farmer Spice, across the other side of the valley, still part of Holt though. And Margaret...” Bill took another swig. “They were a lovely couple, him real handsome, in a dark way, she were tall and slim, an’ a real looker.85

When Henry were no more than a lad he went and signed up in the army, not a good move, but you can’t tell youngsters, they have to make their own mistakes - trouble was his was serious. At first things went well, he’d known Margaret all along ‘course, but on one of his leaves they really fell for one another and was married not too long after. Then Henry went to war.”86

“Is this the second World War?”87

“No, one of those little wars out East, Korea. When he came back he was in a terrible state, I saw them like it in the big one — grey in the face and nerves shot to pieces. As time passed he began to get himself together though, and then Margaret clicked; had the most beautiful twins you ever saw — Paul and Jane.”88

“You were very fond of them. Were they relatives?” Alan asked gently.89

“Ah,” Bill sniffed and emptied his glass. “She were my daughter, a late child, just like me, but loved all the more for it.”90

Alan refilled the glasses, trying to wash the raw emotion out of the air.91

“The house on Maple Close had been built for them by Henry’s father, smashing place it were, couldn’t wish for better. Anyway Christmas day came around. Margaret were cooking the dinner and Henry had taken the twins out on their sledge, we’d had snow in the early hours.”92

Margaret went towards the front door. ‘No the house is lovely and warm, they’ll need that.’ She turned and went into the front room. There was no sign of them and she was a little worried. ‘They should be back by now.’93

“We’d just been changed over to the new gas, you know from the sea… for your time I suppose; but that’s what they say it were… To my mind, the thing that looks after Holt thought one gas was just like another, it didn’t spot the difference, until it were too late. They say the gas must have been leaking for some time but that house had less draughts than any other I’ve known. When Henry and the twins got back for lunch, they opened the front door and the wind blew down the hall. The whole house just blew itself to pieces.”94

“Oh my God!” Alan gasped.95

“I heard the bang way down at my place, I run up there as fast as I could but there were nothing anyone could do, there was nothing left of the house, just a smouldering ruin.”96

Margaret went back to the kitchen but her nerves got the better of her and she soon returned to the front room window. With a sigh of relief she saw Henry pulling the twins on the sledge. Snow was stuck in little lumps on the twin’s coats, evidence of a snowball fight.97

Margaret went to the front door but waited to open it until they got there, to keep in the warmth. She heard Paul giggle and ring the bell.98

        Margaret opened the door.99

“They never even found the bodies, bits a clothes — nothing else. We had a memorial service down at the church, every person in Holt came. Straight after, Henry’s father took his bulldozer up to Maple Close and cleared the site, took away all the rubble, right down to the ground, then he fenced it. He still owned it - technically, it were left in his will to Henry but ‘course knowing about Holt he had expected it not to matter until he passed on. He arranged it so that site can’t ever be built on, nor used for anything else an’ despite legal eagles - I think it’ll stick.”100

“I’m so sorry, Bill, I just had no idea.” Alan felt his eyes moistening. “It was a terrible tragedy.”101

“We’re not quite to the end yet.” Bill told him holding out his glass for a refill. “If that were the end of it, I wouldn’t have said anything but the fact is, I think the thing that looks after Holt felt it had made a terrible mistake — that’s what made me say about it not understanding about the new gas. It had failed and it needed to do something to correct its mistake.”102

For a moment as Margaret opened the door, there was a strange whirling sensation, as if the wind had risen to a tempest but then it had passed.103

“Catch Mummy!” Paul shouted; throwing the snowball he had been holding behind his back.104

       Margaret squealed and dodged. “Come on you terrors your lunch will spoil.”105

They went in to enjoy their Christmas feast.106

“Every year now… just on Christmas Day, the house is back. Like to correct its error… I saw it once… I wanted to go and look but it were too terrible… I fled - some things it doesn’t pay to meddle with.” Bill gulped back a tear.107

Midnight was approaching. Margaret lay in Henry’s arms. The shadow of fear seemed to have left him completely now, almost as if he had never been away to the war. She was tired but happy. She cuddled closer to her sleeping husband. It had been one of the best Christmases she could remember and she had a broad smile as the world around her began to fade.108