Ruth's First Christmas Tree: A Ruth Galloway Christmas Story (Ruth Galloway Series)

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After that, the day goes downhill somewhat. Ruth rings her mother to be told how sad it is that she’s not coming home for Christmas. ‘Simon, Cathy and the boys have just arrived. They’re asking for their Auntie Ruth.’ Ruth doubts this, her nephews have reached the stage when they are permanently attached to wires and communicate only in grunts. ‘I’ll ring on Christmas Day,’ she says. ‘I’m going to a party tonight.’ ‘Oh.’ She knows this will intrigue her mother. ‘Are you going with Max?’ ‘No, he’s arriving tomorrow.’ ‘That’s nice.’ Her mother has met Max and, to Ruth’s disappointment, rather approves. ‘You must bring him for Sunday lunch one day.’ ‘I will.’ ‘Daddy’s longing to meet him. We’re both praying for you, Ruth.’ Significant pause. ‘I know. Thank you.’ It’s only been a few months since forensic archeologist Ruth Galloway found herself entangled in a missing-child case, barely escaping with her life. But when constructions workers demolishing a large old mansion to make way for a new development u... In the ninth Ruth Galloway mystery, Ruth and Nelson investigate a string of murders and disappearances deep within the abandoned tunnels hidden far beneath the streets of Norwich. Norwich is riddled with old chalk-mining tunnels, but no one''s sure ... The service of the Outcast Dead is held annually in Norwich commemorating the bodies in the paupers' graves. This year's proceedings hold special interest for forensic archaeologist Ruth Galloway, who has just unearthed the notorious Mother Hook, han...

Ruth Galloway Novels - Elly Griffiths The Ruth Galloway Novels - Elly Griffiths

All our trees are grown in sustainable forests,’ says Leaf. ‘Rainbow and I talk to them every day. They’re our friends. ’ He adds, rather more briskly, ‘That one’s twenty-five quid.’ Ruth looks at the tree. She can’t really see anything special about it – it’s green and pointy and spiky, that’s about it. She needs a tree. She has promised herself that she will make this the perfect Christmas for Kate. It’s Kate’s second Christmas. She didn’t really register the first one, being only a month old at the time but now she can recognize Santa Claus at a hundred paces and yesterday said ‘present’, very loudly and clearly. So she is on her way to becoming a typical product of the consumerist society. Well done, Ruth. A triumph for modern parenting. But this Christmas it won’t just be Ruth and Kate, because Ruth has also invited Max, her . . . What is Max? Her boyfriend? Surely it’s ridiculous to have a boyfriend at forty-one? Her partner? Sounds too official for a relationship that has, so far, encompassed two weekends and an Aborigine repatriation ceremony. Anyway, she doesn’t need a partner. She has Kate and her beloved cat, Flint. She has her job as a forensic archaeologist, her friends and a somewhat stressful relationship with Kate’s father, DCI Harry Nelson. She’s happy as she is. But why then is she going to so much trouble to do all the Christmassy things when usually her only concession to the festive season is watching the Dr Who special with a glass of white? This year she has put up her cards, bought an advent calendar and even arranged holly behind her picture frames. She has also bought a turkey (M & S, pre-stuffed), mince pies (ditto containing brandy and grated nutmeg) and a ton of sprouts. And now she is standing in the freezing cold debating the finer points of a Christmas tree. ‘I’ll take it,’ she says in answer to Leaf’s raised eyebrows. ‘Is it OK to collect it later? I’ve got some shopping to do.’ ‘Time has no meaning,’ replies Leaf, adding that he shuts at five. In this highly atmospheric mystery, Ruth Galloway and DCI Nelson investigate a murder in a medieval Italian town where dark secrets are buried as deep as bones.The first entry in the acclaimed Ruth Galloway series follows the "captivating"* archaeologist as she investigates a child's bones found on a nearby beach, thought to be the remains of a little girl who went missing ten years before. Isn’t that one of Santa’s reindeer?’ says Ruth, rescuing Flint, who has become entangled in the tinsel. She helps Kate twine the sparkly thread through the branches. ‘Yes,’ Cathbad grins. ‘Dasher and Dancer, Donner and Blitzen. It’s all linked. Anyway, when Saint Boniface came to convert the German tribes, he chopped down the Donar Oak. When he wasn’t killed by a thunderbolt, they all converted to Christianity.’ ‘What a shame,’ says Ruth, who has taken a dislike to the show-off saint. ‘He sounds as if a bolt of lightning would have done him the power of good.’ ‘There’s a Christian link too,’ says Cathbad. ‘The evergreen tree symbolizes eternal life. In medieval times it was sometimes called the Paradise Tree.’ He holds up a decoration in the form of an apple. ‘The apples are meant to remind you of the Garden of Eden.’ ‘They just remind me of apples,’ says Ruth. She has little patience with Christian symbolism. ‘Trees are important to druids too, aren’t they?’ She is thinking of Leaf and Raindrop. Despite everything, she hopes the police don’t catch up with them. ‘Yes. The word druid comes from a Celtic word meaning “knowing the oak tree”. It survives in Irish place names like Derry and Kildare. Kildare means “church of oak”.’ Ruth knows that Cathbad was brought up in Ireland, otherwise his past is as mysterious as the origin of the Christmas tree. They met nearly thirteen years ago when Ruth was excavating a wooden henge found on the beach at the Saltmarsh. Cathbad and his fellow druids were protesting about the removal of the timbers. They were meant for the open air, they said, for the wind and the rain, part of the ebb and flow of the tide. But the authorities had prevailed and the remains of the henge are kept in controlled conditions inside a Norfolk museum. Looking at Cathbad now as he carefully sorts through the baubles, Ruth feels a surge of affection for him. They have been through a lot together, one way or another. ‘Of course,’ he is saying, ‘trees are important in all religions. Christ was killed by being hung on a tree. And Odin sacrificed himself on the world tree.’ When Ruth Galloway arrives to supervise the opening of a coffin containing the bones of a medieval bishop, she finds the museum’s curator lying dead on the floor. Soon after, the museum’s wealthy owner is also found dead, in his stables. In a chilling entry to the award-winning Ruth Galloway series, she and DCI Nelson are haunted by a ghost from their past, just as their future lands on shaky ground.

Ruth s First Christmas Tree. A Christmas story by Elly Griffiths Ruth s First Christmas Tree. A Christmas story by Elly Griffiths

Ruth offers to make a cup of tea but Cathbad says that he has brought some wine. ‘We could have mulled wine. It’s traditional, after all.’Yes,’ says Cathbad, ‘but that would have been a natural process, part of the cycle of nature. But for a piece of wood just to be lost like that, it’s all wrong. These were sacred timbers. You remember what Erik used to say? “Wood represents life; stone is death.”’ Ruth doesn’t argue because she is grateful to Cathbad for offering to babysit. Besides, she knows what he means. She will never forget her first sight of the henge, rising up out of the flat landscape like some prehistoric monster. Erik, the archaeologist in charge of the dig, had fallen to his knees in the centre of the circle. ‘Sacred ground,’ he had said. She remembers, too, Erik’s thoughts on wood and stone. ‘Our journey is from the flesh of the body to the wood of the coffin to the stone of the tomb.’ She shivers. She doesn’t want to talk about Erik, whose ghost still haunts her. ‘I hope Driffield feels better soon,’ she says.