Deadlight-Hall(16)

After a while he found he was becoming interested in the stories about Jesus Christ that the Hursts told him, and he found he was also starting to look forward to the music played in the church. Listening to the massive velvet of the organ chords, he could almost forget the aching misery for his parents and his friends at home. He thought the men who had written this music had known about being lonely and fearful and this made a link for him with the music. He was allowed to join the choir, which he liked and which was friendly.

Each day he was sent off to school, which was quite difficult at first because of not knowing very much English. But Sophie and Susannah were there as well, because they were living nearby, exactly as Sch?nbrunn had said. They were with people called Mr and Mrs Battersby.

When the grown-ups were not around, Leo and the twins talked about their homes and their families, and the people they were living with now. Once Sophie was worried because there had been a man near their house; he had been in the street, and he had come up to them and talked to them in their own language. They had not answered him; they had run to their house and slammed the door hard. Susannah thought they should tell somebody, but it did not seem anything very much, so they decided not to.

They talked about the man for a while, then they talked about Sch?nbrunn. When Mr Hurst and his sister told Leo about Our Lord Jesus, Leo thought Jesus had probably looked exactly like Sch?nbrunn. He told the twins this, and they agreed. Sophie said she would like to marry Sch?nbrunn when she grew up.

They did not talk about the Ovens or the Angel of Death. Leo did not think they dared.

Christmas was not something Leo had known much about at home, except as something other people did, but the Hursts said it had to be celebrated, because it was the birth of Our Lord. Leo tried to explain about Hanukkah, the wonderful Festival of Lights, which they had at home and which all the children had loved, but Mr Hurst said they were not having any of that Jewishry in their house, and Miss Hurst sniffed disapprovingly at the very idea.

She said they would have to ask a few neighbours to eat Christmas dinner with them, because it was expected. Mr Hurst supposed they would have to ask that Mr Porringer again, but he gave his sister fair warning that if he started his airs and graces like last year, not to mention his suggestive remarks, he, personally, would show Mr Porringer the door. He was nothing but a shopkeeper, said Mr Hurst with a rare display of uncharitable feeling towards his neighbour.

‘A dispenser,’ said Miss Hurst. ‘It’s a chemist’s shop, Simeon. An old family firm.’

‘Lot of nonsense.’

There was a special church service, which they all attended, and the neighbours came to eat the dinner Miss Hurst had cooked, including the vicar and his sister. Mr Porringer came as well. He did not say very much, but he ate a great deal. The guests were still there by teatime, and Leo had been allowed to invite the twins for this part of the day. There were turkey sandwiches, a cream trifle and mince pies. Farmer Hurst was watchful that they did not eat too much and make themselves ill, but Miss Hurst, who had been drinking elderflower wine with the vicar all through dinner, was more indulgent and said they could have as much as they wanted.

After her fourth glass of wine, Miss Hurst told Leo that sin was everywhere and it was necessary to always be on guard against it. There had been sin in their own family, said Miss Hurst in a very solemn voice. Her face was red and her eyes were blurry, and once she slopped some of the elderflower wine on the table, which Leo found deeply embarrassing. After the wine had been mopped up, she began to tell the vicar about her family. There had been someone who had been wild and godless – a black sinner, said Miss Hurst, oh yes he was, they had proof of it, here in this very house. It had been their own great-uncle, or maybe it was great-great, she was not exactly sure.

Mr Porringer, who had a doughy face and small eyes like a watchful pig, said that would be Mr John Hurst would it, ah yes, he thought so, the man had been a byword in the area, there was no other term for it. Folk still remembered John Hurst – why, his own grandfather, that had started the family chemist’s business, used to speak of John Hurst, and in no flattering way, said Mr Porringer, tucking his chins righteously into his stiff Sunday collar.

‘It’s the shame of it that hurts,’ said Miss Hurst. ‘Simeon and I have worked all our lives to atone for the wickedness of that man. For the sins of the fathers visit on the children, even unto the third and fourth generation. That’s so, isn’t it, Vicar?’

The vicar, who appeared to be having some difficulty in focusing on Miss Hurst or, in fact, on anything else, mumbled that it was necessary to be vigilant about sin. He had three attempts to say the word vigilant, and gave it up in favour of watchful.