Kin by Lesley Crewe Page A

moments. Then they drove back to Glace Bay in complete silence.
    It was hard without Lila for the first few days. Annie moped around the house, but her parents didn’t say anything to her. They let her be. The first weekend she went to the Savoy with David to watch the movie Tarzan the Ape Man . The movie was great, but a boy in the balcony deliberately dropped a piece of chewed gum on her head. She stood up and yelled, “You idiot!” but everyone told her to be quiet because the movie wasn’t over. It took a lot of yanking to get the gum out. That was it for Annie and movies for a while.
    Mostly she and her cousins Dorothy and Joyce ran wild outside, coasting and making forts before heading to the pond to skate.
    The best time was when they skated at night under the stars. It made Annie feel grown up to accompany her brother out for an hour after dinner. If she got too cold, she ran back home and sat on a kitchen chair in front of the open coal stove in her coat and skates, listening to the hiss of water dripping on the door of the oven. The smell of wet wool permeated the kitchen. Mom would hand her some cocoa and she’d sip it slowly, letting the warmth comfort her insides, then out she’d stomp to rejoin her friends.
    Bedtime always came too early.
    Soon the excitement of Christmas approached. Mom took Annie to do some shopping on a Saturday. There was no bigger thrill than walking down Commercial Street with everyone in a festive mood. The sidewalks were packed with people doing last-minute errands. It sometimes took them an hour to walk the length of the main street because Mom knew so many people.
    They went to Woolworth’s to get some stockings. Annie had a habit of knocking her knees together and she wore stockings out faster than anyone. Mom let her sit on a stool at the lunch counter and order an ice cream soda, and then it was on to Eaton’s, where pretty girls worked selling gloves and scarves. The last stop was the grocer’s to pick up a few treats for Christmas—chocolates, ribbon candy, and gumdrops.
    Annie’s mother had started her Christmas baking at the first of the month. She made white and dark fruitcake to feed those who came visiting between Christmas and New Year’s. When the cakes cooled she put halved walnuts and red and green cherries on top, but not the homemade almond paste and white butter frosting that some recipes called for. Mom liked it better plain.
    Then she put the pork pies, tarts filled with dates and maple fudge icing, away in tins. Annie thought that was a silly name for tarts. Shortbreads topped with almond frosting and cherries were stacked between layers of wax paper. The gumdrop cake was a favourite with Annie and David, as well as almond cookies, doughnuts, and mince pies.
    But of course the best part of all was the night before Christmas. Annie and David walked in front of their parents on their way to church. There was something about Christmas Eve that was magic every year, and Annie’s stomach was tight with excitement knowing what was ahead.
    Soft snow was falling. Everything was hushed and peaceful, except for the bursts of laughter coming from other children on their way to church. It was cold, with air so crisp and clean that just breathing it in was delicious. There were candles in people’s windows and lights decorating some of the houses on the streets.
    By the time they got to church, Annie’s nose and cheeks were bright red. Walking into the vestibule was a welcome relief, but soon the warmth was too much and Annie took off her hat and scarf. The church pews were filled to overflowing. All the children were dressed in their best, and their faces were happy and expectant. Annie sat next to David and her parents.
    She happened to look across the aisle during a hymn and there was a little girl with long curls of reddish gold hair. For a moment she thought it was Lila. She sat back down on the pew and didn’t