Missing MARY

The figurine was precious in so many ways – but she was nowhere to be found

- Denise Wardell

Can it really be the festive season again? Wendy needed to get the Christmas decorations out of the loft. She wondered whether to attempt it on her own, but on consideration, it wasn’t worth the risk. The stepladder needed to be strategically placed at the top of the stairs. She didn’t want to bother her husband, who was engrossed in the TV, but she did need his help.

‘Martin, darling, would it be OK to get the Christmas decorations out of the loft? I’ve got the ladder out ready. I know it’s a pain, but it won’t take long.’

Martin grunted his agreement and got up.

Half an hour later, all the boxes were on the landing. ‘Thanks, my love, I’ll take it from here. You go and relax.’

The box she most looked forward to delving into was the one containing the Nativity scene. Her late father had painstakingly hand-carved each figure, whittling away in his man cave. It had been a true labor of love – a gift to be treasured and passed down the generations.

Wendy unwrapped each figure from yellowed tissue paper and reverently placed them in a basket to carry downstairs. The sideboard in the living room had been cleared in readiness for assembly of the scene.