Welcome to sleep stories with Steph It is time to relax.
And fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now.
And know where you need to go.
Close your eyes.
And feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let all the worries of the day go.
Drift away.
This is your time.
And your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose.
And let it out with a long sigh.
That's it!
There is nothing you need to be doing now.
And know where you need to go.
Happy listening.
Chapter 32 New Year.
The old shabby,
Inglorious,
Outlived calendar came down and the new one went up.
January was a month of storms.
It snowed for three weeks on end.
The thermometer went miles below zero and stayed there,
But as Barney and Valancy pointed out to each other,
There were no mosquitoes.
And the roar and crackle of their big fire drowned the howls of the north wind.
Good Luck and Banjo waxed fat and developed resplendent coats of thick silky fur.
Nip and Tark had gone.
They'll come back in spring,
Promised Barney.
There was no monotony.
Sometimes they had dramatic little private spats that never even thought of becoming quarrels.
Sometimes roaring Abel dropped in for an evening or a whole day with his old tartan cap and his long red beard coated with snow.
He generally brought his fiddle and played for them to the delight of all except Banjo,
Who would go temporarily insane and retreat on to Valancy's bed.
Sometimes Abel and Barney talked while Valancy made candy for them,
And sometimes they sat and smoked in silence a la Tennyson and Carlisle,
Until the blue castle reeked and Valancy fled to the open.
Sometimes they played checkers fiercely and silently the whole night through,
And sometimes they ate all the russet apples Abel brought while the jolly old clock ticked the delightful minutes away.
A plate of apples,
An open fire,
And a jolly good book wear on to look,
Are a fair substitute for heaven.
Foul Barney.
Anyone can have the streets of gold.
They just have another whack at calming.
It was easier now for the Stirlings to believe Valancy of the Dead.
Not even dim rumours of her ever having been at the port came to trouble them.
Although she and Barney would skate there occasionally to see a movie and eat hot dogs shamelessly at the corner stand.
Presumably none of the Stirlings ever thought about her.
Except Cousin Georgiana.
Who used to lay awake,
Worrying about poor Doss.
Did she have enough to eat?
Was that dreadful creature good to her?
Was she warm enough at night?
Valancy was quite warm at night.
She used to wake up and revel silently in the cosiness of those winter nights on that little island in the frozen lake.
The nights of other winters have been so long and cold.
Valancy hated to wake up in them and think about the bleakness and emptiness of the day ahead.
Now she almost counted that night lost on which she didn't wake up and lie awake for half an hour just being happy.
Whilst Barney's regular breathing went on beside her.
And through the open door the smouldering brands in the fireplace winked in the gloom.
It was very nice to feel a little lucky cat jump on your bed in the darkness and snuggle down at your feet purring.
But Banjo would be sitting dowly by himself out in front of the fire like a brooding demon.
Valancy loved his uncanniness.
The side of the bed had to be right against the window.
There was no other place for it in the tiny room.
Valancy laying there could look out of the window.
Through the big pine boughs that actually touched it.
Sometimes the pine boughs tapped against the panes with friendly signals.
Sometimes she heard a little whisper of snow against them right at her side.
Valancy wasted many perfectly good sleeping hours in these delightful communings,
But she could sleep as long in the morning as she wanted to,
No one cared.
Barney would cook his own breakfast of bacon and eggs.
And then he would shut himself up in Bluebeard's chamber until suppertime.
After that they had an evening of reading and talk.
They talked about everything in the world and a good many things in other worlds too.
They laughed over their own jokes until the blue castle re-echoed it.
You do laugh beautifully.
Barney told her once.
Makes me wanna laugh just to hear you laugh!
There's a certain trick about it.
As if there was much more fun back of it than you wouldn't let out.
Did you laugh like that before you came here,
Moonlight?
I never laughed at all,
Not really.
I used to giggle foolishly whenever I was expected to.
But now,
The love just comes.
It struck Valancy more than once.
Barney himself laughed a great deal oftener than he used to,
And his laugh had changed.
It had become wholesome.
She rarely heard the cynical little note in it now.
Could a man laugh like that who had crimes on his conscience?
Yet Barney must have done something.
Balancy had indifferently made up her mind as to what he had done.
She concluded he was a defaulting bank cashier.
She had found in one of Barney's old books a clipping cut out from a Montreal paper in which a banished,
Defaulting cashier was described.
The description applied to Barney as well as to half a dozen other men Valancy knew,
And from some casual remarks he dropped from time to time.
She concluded he knew Montreal rather well.
Valancy had it all figured out in the back of her mind.
Barney had been in a bank.
He was tempted to take some money to speculate.
Meaning,
Of course,
To put it back.
He got in deeper and deeper until he found there was nothing for it but to flee.
It has happened to schools of men.
He had valance he was certain never meant to do anything wrong.
Of course,
The name of the man in the clipping was Bernard Craig.
But Valancy had always thought Snaith was an alias.
Not that it mattered.
Fallency only had one unhappy night that winter.
It came in late March when most of the snow had gone and Nip and Tuck had returned.
Barney had gone off in the afternoon for a long woodland tramp,
Saying he would be back at dark if all went well.
Soon after he went,
It began to snow.
The wind rose and Miss Starless was in the grip of one of the worst storms of the winter.
It tore up the lake and struck at the little house.
The dark,
Angry woods on the mainland scowled.
Menace in the toss of their bows,
Threats in their windy gloom,
And terror in the roar of their hearts.
The trees on the island crouched in fear.
And Valancy spent the night huddled on the rug before the fire.
Her face buried in her hands.
Oh,
Where was Barney?
Lost on the merciless lakes.
Sinking exhausted in the drifts of the pathless woods?
Valancy died a hundred deaths that night.
And paid in full for all the happiness of her blue castle.
When at last morning came,
The storm broke and cleared.
The sun shone gloriously over Misdawas.
And Act Dune.
Barney came home.
Valancy saw him from the aureole as he came round a wooded point,
Slender and black against the glistening white wall.
She did not run to greet him.
Something happened to her knees.
And she dropped down onto Banjo's chair.
Luckily Banjo got out from her just in time,
His whiskers bristling with indignation.
And that was where Barney found her.
Her head buried in her hands.
I thought you were dead.
She whispered.
Barney who did.
After two years of the Klondike,
Did you think a baby stung like this could get me?
I spent the night in that old lumber shanty.
Over by Muskoka.
A bit cold,
But snug enough.
You little goose.
Your eyes look like burnt holes in a blanket.
Did you sit up here all night worrying over an old woodsman like me?
At Valency.
I couldn't help it.
The storm seemed so wild,
Anyone might have been lost in it.
When I saw you come round the point,
There.
.
.
Something happened to me.
I don't know what Barney.
It was as if I had died.
And then I came back to life again.
I really can't describe it.
In any other way.
