It began to snow on Christmas Eve and suddenly everywhere looked as if some giant unseen hand had painted everything white. The sooty chimneys in the town were covered in virgin snow and children played in the streets throwing snowballs and giggling, but Nessie was worried that Marcie wouldn’t manage to get to them if it settled too deeply.
‘She’ll be here,’ Reuben assured her as he mopped up the last of the juice from his bacon with a slice of bread. ‘But I’d best get on now. We’ve another funeral the day after Boxing Day and me an’ Charlie need to get the coffin finished. This one’s a posh affair, solid mahogany, brass handles – the works – fer some toff who lived in one o’ the big houses in Swan Lane.’
She nodded as she glanced towards Joseph who was sitting quietly on the chair beside her while she tried to tempt him to eat. He had hardly taken more than a few spoonfuls despite her best efforts, but then she supposed that his cold would have robbed him of his appetite. The smell of the Christmas puddings that were cooking in the range filled the kitchen and she smiled as she thought of how pleased Molly Liggins would be when she found out that one of them was for her. Nessie had also ordered a goose to be delivered to her cottage later that day and she felt a little ripple of satisfaction as she remembered Molly’s hungry-eyed little offspring. She heard Molly enter the shop then to begin her morning work and thought what a godsend she had turned out to be. She was happy to do anything she was asked and she did it well, which had made a tremendous difference to Nessie’s workload. Charlie was working hard too and he and Reuben appeared to be getting along famously, which was a bonus.
After tucking Joseph up on the sofa, she went through to Andre’s quarters, armed with polish and a duster, as she still preferred to clean his rooms herself. Although this morning she wondered why she was bothering. He had told her the day before that he was going to spend Christmas with his friend, Jean-Paul, in Coventry and return late on Boxing Day. She found him poring over the letter that had arrived from France and before she could stop herself she asked carefully, ‘From your parents is it, Andre?’
He glanced up. ‘From my maman actually.’ He sighed. ‘My father and I are not … how do you say? On good terms?’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. Especially at this time of year.’ Nessie smiled at him sympathetically. ‘Perhaps if you were to visit him you could mend the rift between you?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I would not be welcome; he made that more than clear when I left. I am sure that he will be unaware that maman has written to me.’
Nessie frowned before going on, ‘At least you still have your good friend, Jean-Paul. Did you come to England together?’
‘He came to England shortly after me and started his own business in Coventry, although he is too ill to work now.’
‘He’s no better then?’
Andre shook his head. ‘No. Nor is he likely to be.’ He jammed the letter from his mother into the pocket of his jacket and, clearly wishing to change the subject, said, ‘Are you quite sure that you and Reuben are able to cope over Christmas?’
‘We do every weekend, don’t we?’ she answered with a cheeky smile. ‘So why should tonight and tomorrow be any different? You just go and enjoy your friend’s company, we shall be fine.’ Humming, she set to polishing the fine old sideboard that took up almost the entire length of one wall.
Andre watched her and thanked the lord for sending her and Reuben to him. In just a short time they had turned his life around. His business was thriving for the first time and he didn’t feel so alone now; in fact, he was feeling in a festive mood for the first time in years. If only Jean-Paul had been well it would have been perfect.
On Christmas Day, Marcie arrived mid-morning and Nessie greeted her with a warm hug. The fire was roaring up the chimney, the lamp in the middle of the table was giving off a cosy glow and everywhere looked warm and inviting. The goose that was cooking in the oven along with Nessie’s home-made stuffing, a recipe that had been passed on to her by her mother, was making Reuben’s stomach rumble with anticipation, although sadly, to Joseph, it was just another day.
‘Merry Christmas,’ Nessie greeted her as Marcie stamped the snow from her feet and glanced around at all the bowls of freshly cut holly that Nessie had placed about the room.
‘Same to you,’ Marcie muttered as she passed Nessie and Reuben their hastily wrapped presents, then hurried to the fireside to warm her hands and feet. Thankfully her boots didn’t let in water like her old ones had but her toes were still icily cold.
Nessie was thrilled with the scarf she had bought for her and Reuben thanked her for his gloves, then Nessie passed her a large parcel and Marcie smiled expectantly.
‘What is it?’
‘Why, it’s your Christmas present of course,’ Nessie chuckled. ‘You didn’t think we wouldn’t buy you anything, did you?’
Marcie quickly undid the string to reveal a thick cloak edged with fur in a warm russet colour and she gurgled with delight.
‘Blimey, this’ll be so much warmer than me old shawl,’ she breathed, hardly able to believe her eyes.
‘It isn’t brand new,’ Nessie admitted. ‘And I stitched the fur around the edges to make it a little more fashionable but it’s a lovely quality and it has a nice warm hood too.’
Marcie couldn’t resist slipping it on and sashaying about the room. ‘Cor, I feel like a proper lady in this,’ she giggled. ‘Eliza’s goin’ to be green with envy when she sees it.’
‘Thanks, Nessie … and Reuben,’ she added as an afterthought.
Reuben grunted something and went back to the newspaper he was reading. Just for a second Nessie felt sad. She wished that Marcie and her brother could be a little closer. Even so, she was determined not to spoil this special day. It was already bittersweet as she thought of Christmases past when the family had all been together. Those days could never come again but she was grateful for the opportunity that Andre had offered them and for their warm, cosy home. More than ever, she realised just how lucky they were now that she had seen first-hand the poverty that existed in the surrounding courtyards.
‘Right, I think it’s time we gave Joseph his presents now,’ she said brightly. She had bought him an abacus from the local toyshop with brightly coloured beads and Reuben had carved him a little toy train out of some of the offcuts of wood left over in the workshop. Thankfully he seemed much brighter today. His cold had gone and he was looking about with interest.
‘Look, Joseph … pretty.’ She dropped to her knees beside him sliding the beads along the frame of the abacus and he suddenly gave her such a wonderful smile that her heart missed a beat. ‘Perhaps the doctors were wrong,’ she muttered hopefully. ‘Perhaps it isn’t a tumour and he’s starting to get better.’ She planted a gentle kiss on his pale cheek.
Reuben sighed as he looked across at her. He knew how much she adored Joseph but didn’t want her to go raising her hopes. ‘The doctors said that he’d have good days and bad days,’ he pointed out gently and Marcie tossed her head.
‘Of course he will, but I think we all know what the outcome will be,’ she said heartlessly. ‘And then you won’t have to look after him and you can have a life of your own. I don’t know why you took on the burden of caring for him when Mam … Well, all I’m saying is, he shouldn’t be your responsibility. You should have let him go into the workhouse!’
‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ Nessie retaliated. ‘I’ve heard what happens to babies that end up in that awful place. One of the ladies from the courtyards works there sometimes and she said that the poor little mites in the nursery don’t even cry after a time. They learn quickly that no one will come to them even if they do and more than half of them never even reach their first birthday. Could you really have expected me to condemn Joseph to that? He’s still our family whether Mam is here or not.’
‘Then go ahead and play Miss Goody Two Shoes,’ Marcie replied furiously.
‘Now then.’ Reuben’s voice sliced through the air, stopping what was fast developing into a row from going any further. ‘Have you two forgotten what day it is?’
Both young women looked shamefaced then and glancing at Marcie, Nessie muttered, ‘Sorry.’
‘Me too.’
‘That’s better.’ Reuben folded his paper and rose from the chair. ‘Now, if you two think you can behave yourselves, I have to pop out for a while.’
‘Pop out … on Christmas morning?’ Nessie was surprised and more than a little concerned.
‘Yes, pop out,’ he stated firmly. ‘But I’ll be back in plenty of time for dinner.’ And with that he shrugged into his coat and disappeared out into the snow which had just started to fall again.
As he strode down Abbey Street wearing the warm gloves that Marcie had bought him he thought how pretty everywhere was. Even the dirty alleyways that led into the courtyards seemed as if they had been given a coat of gleaming white paint and looked brand new. The shop windows in the town had been decorated with holly and tinsel and there was a festive feeling in the air as the people who were out and about shouted greetings to each other. Today they could forget about work and the poverty most of them endured and enjoy the time with their families. Of course, he knew that it wouldn’t last. Once the traffic started to stream along the road again the snow would turn to dirty slush and the gutters would overflow causing problems for the residents, but he didn’t want to think about that for now.
His face creased into a frown as he fingered the wedge of money in his pocket and thought of the meeting ahead. He wasn’t looking forward to it one little bit but felt that he had no alternative. Still, he tried to cheer himself, the sooner it’s done the sooner I can go back to enjoying Christmas Day, and with that thought in mind he hurried on his way.
The town was almost deserted apart from the occasional family rushing to spend their day with loved ones, the children’s faces wreathed with smiles as they stepped along in their Sunday best, clinging to their parents’ hands, and trying not to skid on the fast-falling snow. Soon he had left the marketplace in the town centre behind and made his way to the Pingle Fields. That too was deserted and he cut across the field towards Attleborough, leaving a trail of footprints in the undisturbed snow. He had almost reached it when a voice hissed, ‘Psst … Reuben … Over here!’
He turned to see a figure lurking among the bushes and after glancing quickly about to make sure that he wasn’t being observed, he approached it.
‘Have yer got me money?’
Reuben nodded, his lips set in a grim line. ‘Aye, I have. But don’t expect me to be doin’ this again.’ He fumbled in his pocket and as he extended the wad of money it was snatched from his hand and then the figure turned about and disappeared into the snow as if he had never been there. There had been no word of thanks, nothing, and with a shake of his head Reuben turned about and wearily retraced his steps.
Nessie looked at him with a question in her eyes when he returned but he merely hung his coat up and warmed himself at the fire with no explanation as to where he’d been, and she sensed it would be useless to ask. Reuben could close up like a clam when he wished to, as she knew to her cost.
The dinner she presented them with shortly after was delicious. The goose was cooked to perfection as were the crispy roast potatoes and the vegetables that she served with it. The Christmas pudding was a success too and Marcie crowed with delight when she found a shiny penny in her portion. ‘I shall treat meself to some new ribbons on me next day off wi’ this,’ she informed them, sucking the coin clean and tucking it into her pocket and Nessie couldn’t help but laugh at her.
As the afternoon began to darken, at Nessie’s insistence, Reuben walked Marcie home, promising to be back as quickly as possible so he could watch Joseph while Nessie went to the Christmas Day service at Chilvers Coton Church.
The church was ablaze with candles when Nessie got there and as the choir sang much-loved carols and rejoiced in Christ’s birth, she felt blessed. She was pleased, too, to see Dr Dorsey in the congregation and when the service was over she found him waiting for her at the lychgate looking so handsome in his smart suit and brightly patterned waistcoat that her heart gave a little lurch. He greeted her like an old friend and offered to give her a lift home in the family carriage and she flushed with confusion.
‘Umm, I, er … don’t want you to go out of your way,’ she stammered.
‘It’s hardly out of my way at all,’ he insisted and the next minute he was handing her up onto the plush leather seat. Staring around at the luxurious upholstery, Nessie felt flustered. She had never been in a carriage like this before in the whole of her life, though she would have died rather than admit it to him.
‘This is really kind of you,’ she told him with a smile that set his heart fluttering. ‘But you really didn’t have to. I was going to cut through the Pingle Fields and I’d have been home in no time at all.’
‘Not such a good idea when there’s still a murderer out there somewhere, is it? Better safe than sorry, eh?’ His handsome face creased into a smile.
‘The snow looks so pretty, doesn’t it?’ she remarked dreamily.
‘I suppose it does but it isn’t as pretty as you,’ he said softly and now her heart began to hammer so loudly that she was afraid he must hear it. Oh, why couldn’t we have been born of the same class? She knew that there could be no future for them. He was an educated doctor from an upper-class family while she was little more than a servant in a funeral parlour.
‘Did you, er … have a nice day?’ she quickly asked, hoping to get the conversation onto safer ground.
He chuckled. ‘As it happens, I did, although it wasn’t much fun having Christmas dinner alone and it’s very quiet back at the house with just the servants for company. Never mind, I’ll bet the family are having a whale of a time in London.’
She nodded although, never having gone further than the neighbouring town of Bedworth, she had no idea what London was like apart from what she had read about in books.
‘Have you ever visited the capital?’ he asked, as if he had been able to read her mind, and she reluctantly shook her head.
‘Hmm, well I read something the other day that made me think of you.’ When she raised an eyebrow he hurried on, ‘Apparently, in some of the poorer parts of the city they are opening soup kitchens for the starving and the homeless. I thought if I could visit one and get an idea of how it’s run I might open one in Nuneaton. What do you think of the idea? Do you think there’s a need for one?’
‘Oh yes, I do, I think it’s a wonderful idea!’ She leaned forward in her seat, her face animated and as the gas lamps in the street outside shone on her hair they turned it to bronzed gold. ‘But I don’t quite understand why this made you think of me?’
‘Ah well, the thing is, I know how hard you are working to improve Andre’s business and I thought if I could get him to sponsor the soup kitchen and it became common knowledge, it would endear him to the locals. And then of course I would need someone to help me run it, perhaps two or three times a week, do you think? That’s if Andre was agreeable to the idea and he could spare you.’
‘I’m sure he would be, he can be very generous,’ she assured him, excited at the prospect. There were so many poor people in the courtyards and surrounding areas who often went for weeks without a proper meal. And then, as an idea occurred to her, she said excitedly, ‘What if I could raise some more sponsors? Rich people from hereabouts. We could perhaps be able to supply the poor people with a meal every day then. I’m sure I could raise some interest in the project. Some of the women may even be willing to help run it.’
They were both leaning forward on their seats now, almost nose to nose in their excitement. Suddenly she frowned. ‘But where would we serve these meals?’
‘Leave that to me. There’s a room behind Dr Peek’s surgery that stands empty. It would be ideal and I’m sure he’d have no objection to me using it. We’d have to advertise what we’re doing though, otherwise we could be left with an awful lot of soup on our hands.’ There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye and suddenly aware of their closeness, Nessie sat back in her seat just as the carriage drew to a halt outside the funeral parlour.
‘Let’s talk some more about this when I pop in to see Joseph after the holiday,’ he suggested and she nodded eagerly as he opened the door and helped her down onto the cobbles. The touch of his hand on hers sent shivers up her spine and when he bent and kissed her lightly on the cheek she felt as if it were on fire.
‘Merry Christmas, sweet Nessie,’ he muttered before getting back in the carriage.
She watched it pull away as the snow fell softly all around her.