Christmas Lights

(From the Volunteers, a novel in draft. Christmas 1967 Steve, is 10 years old, and his parents, Sean and Audrey are struggling in their mixed-marriage while tensions rise in strongly Loyalist, Ballymoney.)

As Christmas approached, Steve’s father promised they would have a real tree. They could do better than the wee silver one that sat sagging in the window, he had said. A council mate would get one from a local forest. He winked, though Steve had no idea why. They would both put it up and decorate it together, Sean declared. His mother would gather up some decorations.

The tree arrived home on a Thursday and was put in the small backyard next to the outdoor toilet. On Friday, his father came home with a wrapped brown parcel. Before anyone could ask, he set it on a high shelf in the kitchen saying, ‘That’s for later. I’ll go and wash up. And after tea, Steve, you and me will get that tree up.’ His mother had been quieter than usual when Sean came in. Steve noticed a stiffness had entered their words.

Over the past year, his mother had been out for a number of evenings each week. She had joined a different church, one a little way outside the town. Steve would have been happy if it broke her habit of taking him to Sunday school and afterwards to church service. He’d be happy to stay at home listening to his father’s stories or to his violin, played quietly, because it was a Sunday.  But it didn’t alter her pattern. And each Sunday morning, he was dressed up and walked the short distance to their Presbyterian Church on a nearby street.

When the tree was planted into a bucket filled with stones and placed in front of the window, Steve stood on a kitchen chair and looped decorations on branches. There were a few new sparkly ones, but most were made by Doris from old glittered Christmas cards or shapes of bright material glued onto cardboard.

‘I bought the Bethlehem Angel for the top,’ said Audrey, pulling it out of a paper bag.

‘That’s beautiful mammy,’ Steve said. ‘Can I put it up?’

‘Let your dad. It’s too high.’ Sean had gone off to the kitchen and came back with his package.

‘Here, Steve, open that, very carefully.’ Steve unfolded the brown wrapping paper on the floor.

‘Ahh Santa lights! Wow!’ Steve’s glance caught his mother’s cold eye on his father, Audrey thinking he did that on purpose. He knew I had the angel.

‘Careful now. I’ll unwind them and string them on the tree. This will beat anything on the street. Or Eddie and Doris’s. They’ve nothing.’

‘You know we’re going round there next Friday?’ Audrey reminded him. Sean groaned. He had wanted to forget. ‘We’re all going.’

‘Won’t you be out at that new church of yours?’ said Sean, his voice icy. After he’d expressed initial surprise at her move to the new Free Presbyterian Church – though it had been signalled by her increasing number of comments about the need for so-and-so to be saved, which he also took to mean him – he knew there was little to be gained by arguing. It was all going in the wrong direction, he felt. Like an Armada ship in Donegal Bay, he once heard of, trailing its anchor in a southwest gale about to be pounded onto rocks.

Steve sensed an edge creep into their words. His Dad had always expressed his gratitude for the hearty plate of food Audrey had set in front of him at the end of his working day. Now, there were often no words at all. He didn’t like it, felt excluded by the absence of their whispered words. 

‘Don’t mock the Lord’s House, Sean. It would do you good to go,’ Audrey said, turning to rearrange the cushions on the settee, wondering how long ago Sean stopped trying to be part of her community. If he ever really tried. ‘Anyway, make sure you’re back in time to be over there for seven. You know we go every year.’

‘I know. I know. That man is— we just don’t get on.’

‘Eddie, isn’t the worst of them.’

‘Hmfp. Your brother’s the worst I’ve come across,’ Sean replied, under his breath. Audrey turned at the living room door.

‘Stop it, Sean! It’s Christmas. It’s time of peace and love,’ Audrey’s voice dropping, but firm. ‘We’re all going. You can leave early if you want.’ Tell your brother about peace and love, Sean thought, but didn’t say it.