Needless to say, Sally gushed
with enthusiasm over Levi’s Christmas post box topper suggestion.
Petronella was very
complimentary.
Even Stuart thought Levi’s plan
was excellent.
And Vera? She was spellbound.
However, Effie wasn’t so keen.
‘Alice Gruber? Are you sure?’
she’d asked when she learned of the idea.
Effie hadn’t been invited to the
December topper planning meeting in Bonzer Buns, but she’d hovered near their
table, sweeping up crumbs with her long-handled broom, and had overheard the
discussion about Levi’s proposal.
She still wasn’t satisfied Alice
Gruber didn’t harbour murderous tendencies. Once again, Vera explained there
had been no evidence, merely much feverish speculation on Effie’s part, to
suggest Alice Gruber had murdered anyone. Unfortunately, Vera’s logic didn’t
wash with Effie.
‘Why can’t you do it without that
woman’s… er man’s… er person’s assistance?’ Effie demanded.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’
Vera said. ‘And anyway, this is a private meeting of the Post Box Topper
Society. You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.’
As regrettable as it was, Levi’s
idea needed Alice Gruber’s participation. And, in fact, Vera realised it was a
clever ploy. As the official Creaping Bottom spy whose job it was to make a
note of anything displeasing in the village, Alice conducted her duties with
great zeal. Not that the Reverend Prendergast took most of the points in her
frequent reports seriously. After all, did many of the residents care that
there had been five yellow cars parked in the parking bays along the High Road
when Alice had done a survey? This was not a normal range of colours, Alice had
remarked. Was it some sort of yellow car owners’ convention? And if so, what
did it mean?
Prenderghastly didn’t care if it
meant anything or not. Yellow cars and their owners were not on his radar.
On the other hand, he was
interested in Alice’s report about the squirrels. They were multiplying
rapidly. And what’s more, each morning, they emptied a rubbish bin and
scattered the contents near the churchyard. Alice had predicted it wouldn’t be
long before the litter blew in or was even carried into the churchyard.
The rubbish bin had rapidly been
moved further down the High Road away from All Saints.
Nothing was too minor for Alice
Gruber’s attention, and she wasn’t afraid to state her mind. If the society involved
her in the topper's design, then it would be done to her satisfaction and there
would be no complaint to Prenderghastly.
Perfect.
Nothing must risk spoiling the
last topper of the year. Nor threaten Vera’s re-election next year to the post
of chairwoman of the topper society.
Either the crumbs on the floor
were particularly sticky or Effie was determined to hear more. She was still
standing within earshot, brushing vigorously. Swish, swish, went the
broom while Effie inclined her body so far towards the society’s table, she was
in danger of keeling over. Vera thought it best to include her in the rest of the
planning. After all, Effie had overheard most of the conversation. It wouldn’t
do if she talked about it to others and spoilt the surprise. If she was
involved, then she, too, might feel invested and would be supportive. However,
Effie proved a remarkably hard woman to convince that Alice should be included.
Once they’d explained the entire plan, she’d understood and had given in.
Effie had also been carried along
by Beryl’s enthusiasm. She was so excited by the prospect of December, that she’d
planned a whole range of Advent Cakes of the Day sweeping Effie up in the
festive euphoria – not to mention the promise of a sample of each Cake of the
Day throughout December if she agreed to the proposed arrangements. The post
box and therefore the Christmas post box topper would be outside Beryl’s
establishment, and it appeared she was going to make use of it for promoting
Bonzer Buns in any way she could.
She asked the society members if
they’d put in a good word to Alice for her. Beryl was considering asking Alice
to make a Bonzer Buns’ tinsel-covered Christmas Drone and had only been
dissuaded when Levi had pointed out that a small flying object in a confined
space might, at best, knock over cups of coffee, and at worst, maim a customer.
Beryl had reluctantly agreed, but she was still toying with the idea she might
have her own custom drone outside.
‘Doing what?’ Vera asked warily.
‘Going up and down,’ said Beryl, ‘that’s
what they do. Isn’t it?’
‘But for what purpose?’ Vera
asked. ‘People might be put off entering because they’ll assume the place is
under attack, or wonder if a hostile foreign nation is snooping.’
‘Yes, perhaps it needs a rethink,’
Beryl conceded.
Vera breathed a sigh of relief.
She didn’t need any Christmas competition in the razz-a-ma-tazz department.
Nothing must outshine the topper.
Vera’s only misgiving with Levi’s
proposed idea was that December was a busy month, and the topper – once it was
in place – was going to take up a lot of time. However, Petronella had already
drawn up a rota and everyone had committed to participating.
Alice, with her absence of
friends, had plenty of free time and she’d already agreed to be on duty every
day. And that was just as well, because she was going to be in control of the
show.
Would they be able to keep it up?
Vera had no idea, but judging by the enthusiasm of everyone in the group and a
few who weren’t members, she was beginning to believe that perhaps they could.
And if, for some reason, the show didn’t take place one evening, at least the
Christmas topper would be in place for people to look at. Or it would be, once
they’d started knitting.
Originally, when Vera had begun
reading Levi’s proposal, she’d been disappointed. Not that there was anything
wrong with the traditional Nativity Scene. Of course, it was charming with its
stable, animals, shepherds, angels, and of course, Mary, Joseph and the baby in
the manger – but it was rather predictable.
However, once she’d read more of
Levi’s notes, she realised how their topper would differ from most other
people’s Nativity Scenes.
It would start each evening just
before the bells at All Saints had rung at 7 o’clock. Alice would wait outside
the church, connected on her mobile phone to the society member who was
monitoring the post box. At exactly 7 o’clock, Alice would use her remote
control to send a drone up the High Road with the illuminated, knitted star
dangling beneath. Once the star was hovering over the Nativity Scene, the
society member would let Alice know. She’d flick a switch on her remote
control, and a beam of light would shine down from the drone onto the stable as
if the star was lighting it up.
The show would last several
minutes and then the lights would go out, and the drone would carry the dark
star back to Alice at the far end of the High Road.
Already word had got out that
something spectacular was being planned at 7 o’clock each evening and various
shopkeepers wanted to know what would happen. However, Vera had insisted on
complete secrecy.
‘But what if after two weeks of
the star lighting up, people get fed up?’ Petronella had asked.
A good point. Of course, during
the past year, many people had come from miles around to look at their toppers,
so possibly it wouldn’t matter. There would be different people there each
night, but perhaps they ought to have something slightly different the closer
they got to Christmas.
‘How about starting on 21st
December, one of the three Wise Men could arrive suspended beneath the drone
with the star each evening?’ Stuart suggested.
That was a good idea and would
certainly ring the changes. They decided they’d incorporate that idea, although
it meant that on those evenings, the society member at the post box would have
to unhook the Wise Man when he arrived at the topper. Later, after the crowds
had gone, he’d be sewn onto the cap in a space that would have been left for
the visitors from the Far East.
That led up to Christmas Eve. How
could they celebrate that?
Levi suggested that on Christmas Eve,
an enormous balloon filled with sweets could be conveyed beneath the drone to
hover over the topper. Using the technique Alice had tried once before with
extending scissors from the bottom of the drone, they could reach downwards and
burst the balloon, like a piñata, showering everyone with sweets.
‘And if they hit someone?’ asked
Stuart. ‘We might be accused of grievous bodily harm.’
‘He has a point,’ said Sally
reluctantly.
‘Well, instead of sweets, how
about gold and silver confetti? That can’t upset anyone,’ Levi said.
‘Except the postmistress,’ said
Vera, who’d had words with the formidable Miss Witter before regarding clutter
around her post box.
‘Well, we’ll rush out and clear
it up before she gets upset,’ said Effie.
At last, Effie was completely on
board with the plans.
So, it was settled.
Now all they had to do was knit
the figures and the cap.
And rely on a lot of luck.
As soon as each member had
finished knitting a figure, it was taken to Vera’s house, where they were lined
up on her dining room table. It had taken longer than Vera had anticipated
because Stuart, who’d been given the job of knitting the stable, had been very
slow. But finally, he’d finished. It was so substantial that it could almost stand
up on its own. And much larger than anyone had expected.
Vera had knitted a white cap for
the post box to represent snow. She was certain it hadn’t snowed in Bethlehem
that night, but who was she to go against tradition? Once everything was ready,
the society members gathered at Chez Twinge to agree on the layout. Vera
had been reluctant to invite Alice Gruber to her house but needs must. They’d
look foolish if on their opening night, the drone didn’t work, or the star
didn’t light up. No, a rehearsal was crucial and that couldn’t be done without
Alice.
Once they’d all gathered, they
started arranging the figures. The stable was placed in the middle with the
figures inside, an angel stood to one side of it and two shepherds knelt at the
front, each with a sheep under his arm. Spaces were left for the three Wise
Men.
Vera looked with dismay at the
other knitted figures that still lay on the table – a whole host of angels,
more shepherds and various animals – donkeys, sheep and cows. There was no room
for them. The topper was full. But perhaps that was a good omen. “No room at
the inn” had been the reason for the figures being in the stable in the first
place.
The three Wise Men also lay on
the table, but they wouldn’t take part until just before Christmas Eve, when
the drone would convey them, one by one, down the High Road.
Next to them, looking like a
distended bladder, was the balloon which Vera had painstakingly filled with
confetti. With pride of place, the star was in the middle of the table. It had
been knitted with tiny fairy lights woven into it, and while Alice attached it
to her drone, the others sewed the figures in place on the cap. Once everything
was done, they toasted the final piece with mugs of cocoa.
Now for the rehearsal in Vera’s
garden. There were two more days until the beginning of December. Everything
must be perfect.
As they trooped into the garden,
Vera wondered if perhaps they’d been a bit premature toasting the topper with
cocoa. Maybe they should have waited until after the rehearsal. Oh well, if
everything went well, they’d have more cocoa and Vera might even break out the
sherry. And if it didn’t go well, it was going to be a long night.
They carefully laid the topper on
Vera’s bird table at the far end of the garden, and Levi waited nearby,
connected on his mobile phone to Alice.
‘Go,’ whispered Vera, and Alice
switched the drone on.
Everyone held their breath as it
began to whir, then judder upwards into the night air. It hovered, dipped
alarmingly, rose again and righted itself. After turning three hundred and
sixty degrees, the drone carrying the illuminated star travelled the length of
the garden until it hovered over the table.
‘Now!’ Levi said into his phone
and a second later, a beam of light shone down from the drone, lighting up the
topper below.
There was stunned silence for a
few moments. Then everyone began to cheer and applaud.
Alice insisted on trying it twice
more, but each time it was perfect and eventually they went inside and over
more cocoa laced with sherry, they congratulated themselves. They were ready
for their first show.
Tony Parstedd had been invited to
the first topper event on December 1st, and it was hoped he’d give
them some good coverage. Vera still didn’t trust him, but if he was on their
side, and his report was good, then it would bring people to Creaping Bottom to
see the Post Box Topper Christmas Show.
However, on the morning of the
first show, the Creaping Bottom News carried a sensational story on the front
page. Margaret Bludge, a resident of Creaping Bottom, had apparently spotted a
UFO flying over her garden. It had whirred, and there had been flashing lights.
Before the UFO disappeared completely, there had been eerie shouting, as if
aliens had been calling from their spacecraft.
When Levi brought the newspaper
into Bonzer Buns that morning, they all stared at it in dismay.
‘That busybody, Margaret Bludge,
is my next-door neighbour,’ said Vera wearily. ‘She’d obviously been spying on
our rehearsal.’
‘Well, there’s nothing we can do
about it,’ said Levi. ‘Let’s hope people don’t remember the last UFO experience
and link it with a voodoo doll on the rampage.’
Vera groaned. This was supposed
to be the society’s finest hour. Oh well, there was nothing for it, they had to
proceed. And if the Creaping Bottom News had only given them a few lines on
page six that no one would notice, well, word of mouth appeared to have been
working well.
That night, the High Road was
packed. The story about the UFO sighting and news of the post box topper
society’s show had reached many ears. It appeared lots of people didn’t
actually know what they were there for, but they had the impression something spectacular
was about to happen.
At 7 o’clock, the bells at All
Saints chimed.
All the members of the society
had volunteered for duty that night to see the arrival of the star. Or not.
As the last chime died away, Vera
heard the distant whirr of a motor and the gasp of people at the far end of the
High Road. So far, so good.
Vera held her breath as she saw
it. The star lit up with its delicate fairy lights twinkling. At first, it
drunkenly wove along the High Road and then, following a more regular orbit, advanced
towards the post box. In the darkness, the drone was barely visible, and it
really appeared that the star was moving on its own. Children pointed in wonder
and parents oohed and ahhed.
‘It’s a miracle!’ someone
shouted.
Vera’s skin rose in delicious
goosebumps. It was going better than she could possibly have imagined. And that
was, indeed, a miracle.
Each night after that, crowds
gathered on the High Road. They watched in awe as the twinkling star glided
over their heads until it reached the post box topper where the brilliant white
beam shone down on the stable below. Vera was thrilled at the success so far.
Only four more days to worry about with the Wise Men and balloon. After that,
there would be no more shows. It would be Christmas.
On the night of 21st
December, the first of the three Wise Men swung beneath the sparkling star as
the drone rose into the air. Alice had got used to the trajectory of the drone
when it merely carried the star, but the extra weight of the Wise Man tipped
the balance slightly and she was finding it hard to direct the drone in a
straight line. The Wise Man’s journey along the High Road was rather meandering
and bumpy.
Stuart was on mobile phone duty
at the post box and his instructions weren’t very clear, so the dizzy Wise Man
overshot the topper and then turned for a second approach.
‘Up! Up!’ barked Stuart. ‘No, not
up in the air! Back up the High Road!’
Vera sighed. There were going to
be words between Alice and Stuart after the show was over. That was assuming
the wobbly Wise Man ever made it down to Sally, who was waiting to unhook it
and place it on the topper.
‘He can’t find anywhere to park
his camel,’ someone in the crowd shouted and thankfully, everyone laughed.
At the same time, Sally grabbed
Stuart’s mobile and guided the Wise Man down to her, where she unhooked it. The
drone rose and hovering over the topper, the beam of light glowed down on the
stable.
Rapturous applause.
Vera allowed herself to breathe
again. Well, hopefully, Wise Man number two’s journey would be less fraught the
next evening.
There was much hilarity on the village
WhatsApp group regarding the journey of the first Wise Man. One wag joked he’d
been rerouted due to traffic congestion and suggested the two other Wise Men
might be redirected via the M25.
However, overnight, Alice had obviously
practised, and on the next two days, to the delight of the crowd, both Wise Men
made it directly to the post box topper without weaving a tortuous route along
the High Road or overshooting.
Word had obviously got out that
Christmas Eve was going to be a special show. This would be the pièce de
résistance. Three drones would proceed up the High Road, one carrying the
confetti-filled balloon, and the other two with angels dangling beneath, like a
winged guard. Once the balloon was hovering above the topper, the beam of light
would come on and the scissors would plunge downwards and shower the topper and
bystanders with confetti.
Vera was worried. She wasn’t sure
why, except that Alice appeared to be extremely nervous and that was enough to
bother Vera.
Why was Alice so anxious?
Although perhaps ‘distracted’ was a better word. Maybe Vera had underestimated
how tricky it would be to control three drones at once. Had the topper society
overreached? Oh well, it was too late to do anything about it now.
But if it was so complicated or
difficult, why had Alice suggested it? Perhaps it wasn’t anything to do with
the drones. During the last week, Vera had noticed Alice spending a lot of time
in Bonzer Buns, deep in conversation with Beryl. As soon as they’d seen Vera,
they’d stopped talking and changed the subject.
Surely Beryl wasn’t still
harbouring ideas of having a drone inside the café? That was just a disaster
waiting to happen. Vera’s stomach sank. Alice looked very serious. Perhaps she
was threatening to make a complaint against Bonzer Buns. That might cause
problems for the society who were now working in partnership with Alice. Would
Beryl remove their mates’ rates? Or worse – might she ban them from the café
altogether?
Vera would worry about that after
the Christmas Eve show. There was too much on her mind now. She checked her
watch. It was almost time. Members of the society stood around the post box
keeping people back so everyone would have a chance to see. They also had small
pans and brushes, ready to clear up when the balloon discharged its cargo of
confetti. Assuming the scissors lowered and pierced the rubber. Effie was there
with her long-handled tool caddy, ready for every eventuality.
Vera nibbled her lower lip and
checked her watch again. The bells in All Saints had started pealing. Five
seconds until Alice at the other end of the High Road released her drones.
The entire street was packed.
‘Go!’ whispered Levi into his
mobile phone, and from the far end of the High Road, Vera heard the crowd
inhale. As the drones drew nearer, a gasp, like a Mexican wave, rolled towards
them.
Vera could see a spotlight from
each drone beaming down onto their respective cargoes. Two angels and a large
glittery balloon. There had been a momentary panic earlier that evening when
Vera hadn’t been able to find the angels, despite there having been too many
knitted for the topper. Finally, Alice had found them. Just in time.
‘Oh no!’ an elderly woman near
Vera shouted. ‘It’s like that dreadful balloon in The Prisoner.’
Having seen the television
programme many years before, Vera knew what she meant and held her breath.
Would there be panic?
Luckily, no one took any notice.
Presumably, few of the crowd remembered that huge, horrifying balloon in the 1960s
television show.
Thankfully, all was perfect so
far. And then, something strange happened. Instead of proceeding towards the
post box topper, the drones veered towards Bonzer Buns.
‘What’s happening?’ gasped Vera,
but there was nothing she could do – simply stand there and watch. The three
drones rose and the two conveying the angels advanced towards the café. Vera
flinched as bright lights lit up the front of Bonzer Buns and Vera could see
all the angels she hadn’t been able to find earlier suspended as if flying.
Presumably, they were dangling on strings out of Beryl’s windows, there were
even three of Stuart’s angels which Vera had rejected because they were so
chunky they looked like anaemic beetles. What’s more, there were the left-over
shepherds, donkeys, sheep and cows as well as several stocky knitted creatures
that Vera thought might be kangaroos. They were bobbing up and down as if
hopping.
The crowd oohed and ahhed, and
then fell silent, as from Bonzer Buns came the sound of a heavenly choir singing.
‘Ahhhhh!’ sang the angels, drowning
out Vera’s screech as she realised everything was sliding out of control.
The balloon had retreated from
Bonzer Buns and was now hovering over the post box topper. Slowly, the scissors
descended, piercing the balloon and showering everyone with gold and silver
pieces while the crowd applauded wildly.
Effie rushed forward with her
long-handled brush and pan and swept vigorously, as the crowd continued to
cheer. Vera looked up at Beryl’s illuminated café, with its shepherds, angels,
farm animals and mutant kangaroos, who appeared to be serenading them with
heavenly sounds. She watched spellbound, unsure whether the topper had been
outdone by Bonzer Buns or whether the angels, shepherds and kangaroos had added
to the entire show.
Before she could make up her
mind, abruptly the choir finished, and everything was plunged into darkness.
Then, a blaze of light shone from inside Bonzer Buns, including the neon sign
in the window proclaiming it was open. People charged into the café where Beryl
and Tilly, wearing Santa Claus hats, were waiting to serve them.
‘So, that’s why Alice had spent
so much time in Bonzer Buns on the run-up to Christmas Eve. We’ve been
hijacked,’ Vera gasped.
Sally turned to Stuart. ‘You
knitted those kangaroos, didn’t you?’
Even in the darkness, Vera could
tell Stuart was blushing.
‘How did you know?’ But before
anyone could tell him, he added, ‘Well anyway, you’ll be pleased to know that
for the rest of the year, we have treble mate’s rates in Bonzer Buns thanks to
my assistance.’
That was good news, but still,
Vera’s pride was dented. Right at the final moment, Beryl had stolen the show.
‘Excuse me…’ It was Tony
Parstedd. ‘Could you people please stand near your topper? I’d like to take a
photo. This will be on the front page tomorrow.’ He shepherded the members to
the post box. ‘Now, could one of you throw some of that confetti up in the air
so it flutters down as I take the photos?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ said
Effie, ‘I just cleaned that all up.’
Tony Parstedd’s photographs in the
Creaping Bottom News were amazing. They showed a merry group of society members
being showered with confetti and standing by their Christmas post box topper.
His report was glowing and although Bonzer Buns was mentioned, it was portrayed
as the backdrop to the topper.
Things couldn’t have gone better,
thought Vera and she toasted the Christmas topper with a mug of cocoa and a
splash of sherry.
Now to consider the January
topper, although arguably, it might not be her responsibility to decide. At the
next meeting, the members would vote in the new chair and Vera wasn’t sure who
might be voted in, but a warm glow inside suggested it might be her.
To read the previous stories in
this series:
Part 1 – Post Box Topper Outrage
– https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/02/the-post-box-topper-outrage-by-dawn.html
Part 2 – Post Box Topper
Surveillance – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/02/post-box-topper-surveillance-by-dawn.html
Part 3 – Post Box Topper
Confusion – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/03/post-box-topper-confusion-by-dawn-knox.html
Part 4 – Post Box Topper Shock
– https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/04/the-post-box-topper-shock-by-dawn-knox.html
Part 5 – Post Box Topper Triumph
– https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/04/the-post-box-topper-triumph-by-dawn.html
Part 6
– Post Box Topper Photo-Opportunity – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/05/the-post-box-topper-photo-opportunity.html
Part 7
– Post Box Topper Summer Scene – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/06/the-post-box-topper-summer-scene-by.html
Part 8
– Post Box Topper Animal Extravaganza - https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/07/the-post-box-topper-animal-extravaganza.html
Part 9
– Post Box Topper Star Trek Theft – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/08/the-post-box-topper-star-trek-theft-by.html
Part
10 – Post Box Topper Celebration of Creaping Bottom – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/09/the-post-box-topper-celebration-of.html
Part
11 – Post Box Topper Shock Revelation – https://www.cafelitmagazine.uk/2023/11/the-post-box-topper-shock-revelation-by.html
About the author
Dawn’s three previous books in the ‘Chronicles Chronicles’ series are ‘The Basilwade Chronicles’, ‘The Macaroon Chronicles’ and 'The Crispin Chronicles' published by Chapeltown Publishing.
You can follow her here on https://dawnknox.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SunriseCalls
Amazon Author: http://mybook.to/DawnKnox
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