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were all assembled in the large entrancehall where tables had been laid out with all manner of food. Dominating thehall was a large Christmas tree which brought squeals of delight from thechildren who were itching to run towards it to find their presents. Danny followed his father towards the tablewhere Henry Cavendish was serving drinks with his son, Robert. The boy wasaround eleven years old with fine features, very slim and clearly destined tobe as tall if not taller than his father.

‘MrShaw,’ said Henry filling a cup of wine and handing it to Stan. ‘A pleasure tosee you again. And this is young Tom and Danny, if I remember correctly.’

YoungRobert filled the cups with wine and handed them out to the young men. Stangrinned, ‘Not so young now. Tom will be married next year.’

‘Really?My word, how the time goes. Congratulations, Tom. And what of you, Danny?’

‘Toosoon sir,’ laughed Danny. ‘Plenty of time yet.’

Stanrolled his eyes and shook his head. It was clear he had given up on this son.

‘Actually,’continued Henry, ‘I’m glad I’ve met you again. Would you be willing to come upto the Hall some day and show my son that throw you did all those years ago?

Thiscaused Danny to laugh and his father and brother to turn to him, both confused.Danny shrugged and said, ‘I’d love to. When would you like me to come?’

‘Perhapsthe day after Boxing Day,’ replied Henry. He could see that the other two menwere baffled by the conversation.

‘Youmay be wondering what this is about. Clearly Danny never mentioned anything.Your son, Mr Shaw, was alone in the forest a few years ago when my wife and Icame across him being attacked by a number of other boys from the village. Tosay he dealt with them very handily would be an understatement. Apparently, helearned a particular throw from you, Mr Shaw, that you were taught in thearmy.’

Atthis point recognition dawned on Stan and he looked archly at his son. Tomsmiled also. It sounded like Danny all right.

Dannylooked down at young Robert and said, ‘So how about it, Lord Robert? Do youfancy learning a few wrestling moves?’

‘Yes,please,’ beamed the boy. He had a likeable, open face. So different from hissister.

‘Ican tell you he is very much like his grandfather and not a bit like me at thisage,’ said Henry with a smile. But behind the smile there was sadness also. Theremembrance of a man whom he’d lost as a consequenceof the War.

‘I remember your father, sir’ said Stan. ‘A fine man. He had aword for everyone, didn’t matter who you were.’

Henry nodded and said nothing. The memory of his loss would neverleave him. Stan, recognising the look on Henry’s face, turned to his sons andsaid, ‘Right, boys, we’ve taken enough of his lordship’s time. There’s otherswant a sup.’

This seemed to break the spell and Henry smiled at the big blacksmith as he movedaside. The three Shaw men moved into the centre of the hall and looked around.As big as it was, it was still thronged by the villagers who looked forward tothis day and spoke of nothing else for many weeks in advance.

Dannyspotted his mother over by the table where Lady Jane and her daughter Sarahwere serving mince pies. Sarah was almost as tall as her mother now but verygangly. Unlike her mother, who seemed very relaxed with the visitors, Sarahlooked ill at ease. Augustus was whispering to her. He seemed amused.

Dannyfound he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. Thegreen eyes compelled his attention. Then, just for a moment, their eyes met. Sheturned away immediately. Danny looked away also and went over to join HughGissing who was now minus his tuba and was guzzling every cake he could lay hismitts on.

‘You ready for the concert then?’ asked Danny with a grin.

‘Aye, been practicing for weeks,’ replied Hugh between mouthfuls.

‘Iknow, the whole village has been listening,’ joked Danny. Hugh laughed at this.The animosity that had marked their time at schoolhad long since disappeared. Danny realised it probably dated from the moment hehad not given them up to Lord Cavendish. Since then the two rival gangs hadgradually merged as other things captured their interest.

Alec was now courting Fred’s sister. Tom was to marry Greg’scousin. This was village life. A cycle of renewal that had begun centuriesbefore them and would go on long after they were dust in the ground. Or soDanny had once thought. But even he accepted that things change. Sometimes forgood, though often not.

He drifted through the crowd trying to avoid the small childrenwho were running underneath his feet. It was the same every year. Once upon a time he had been one of thosechildren. There seemed to be more of them now. The crowd was as big as he couldremember.

Upahead he saw Reverend Simmons clap his hands to gain everyone’s attention. Thecrowd became silent and gave him some space so that all could see. Danny lookedat Simmons, his back a little more crooked, his cauliflower ears partiallycovered by a felt hat. He’d lived a life. Danny wondered about his own future.Would it draw out lazily year after year in the village or would events inEurope force his life along a different course? The serious look on the face ofSimmons suggested he was thinking along similar lines as he began to speak.

‘Myfriends it is time to work for our food and,’ he held his glass up, ‘wine.’ Theaudience laughed at this. Simmons continued, ‘Normally such a day as thisshould be one of joy as we anticipate the coming of our Lord. Alas, the worldis facing a great evil once again. I wonder how long we will be able to enjoysuch gatherings before the young men of our country must, once again, be askedto make the ultimate sacrifice. I hope and pray that day never comes. I fearthat it will.’

Therewas silence in the hall as Simmons spoke. The Cavendish family looked onsolemnly. Everyone recognised that to ignore the looming war would be adisservice to those who had lost family in theprevious conflict. A few of the villagers,

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