by Holly Webb
“Oh dear, I’m sorry – it’s Cassie, isn’t it? You live next door?”
Cassie nodded. She wasn’t sure if Mrs Morris was cross with her or not.
“I didn’t mean to leave everything all over the stairs. I just needed to sit down for a moment. That dratted lift’s broken again, you see, and my leg’s playing up. It’s so slippery out there, it was hard to walk.”
“Um … shall I help with the shopping?” Cassie asked cautiously.
“That would be very nice,” Mrs Morris agreed. “I can get up now, I think.” She put her hand on the banister and started to haul herself up. Cassie reached out to support her other arm. She’d never thought how difficult it must be for Mrs Morris when the lifts weren’t working.
“Thank you, dear. If you could take that bag down there, I can manage this one.”
Cassie picked up the shopping and followed Mrs Morris – very, very slowly – up the stairs.
“You’re the child who feeds the foxes, aren’t you?” Mrs Morris asked, and Cassie swallowed.
“Yes,” she admitted, hoping Mrs Morris wasn’t going to ask if she was still feeding them.
“I should have said sorry to you before now,” Mrs Morris said, puffing slightly.
“To me?” Cassie asked doubtfully, and the old lady turned to look back down at her.
“Yes. I’m sorry I shouted at you that time. I’d just been down to take some rubbish to the bin room and someone had left the door open again. The foxes had got in, and there were ripped bags and rubbish everywhere. I was trying to pick some of it up but it was so disgusting. And then I saw you…”
Cassie nodded. “I would be cross too.”
“Ah well.” She sighed. “I suppose you’re excited about the snow, aren’t you? Snowmen and snowball fights.”
“There isn’t enough for a snowman, not yet. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Yes…” The old lady shivered. “It’s certainly cold enough. I’m sure it’s going to snow again.” She smiled at Cassie. “You never know, maybe the river will freeze over and you can go skating.”
Cassie laughed. She couldn’t imagine the river freezing. Their flats were only a few streets away from the Thames, and Mum and Dad often took her and the boys to walk along the side of the river and watch the boats. They had even been down the river on a big trip boat once. The Thames was huge – a great brownish-grey ribbon cutting through the city, glittering on sunny days, deep and dark in the winter. It couldn’t ever freeze, it would be like turning some strange beast to ice.
Mrs Morris looked back at Cassie as she unlocked her front door, her head on one side. “I was joking about the skating but the river has frozen over before, you know.”
“Really?” Cassie stared at her.
“Oh yes. Not for a few hundred years, mind. But it used to freeze over quite often.”
“Did it freeze solid enough to skate on, then?”
Mrs Morris laughed. “Not just skating! They had Frost Fairs. Like a Christmas market, but out on the frozen river.”
“You’re making that up…” Cassie said doubtfully.
“Not at all, I promise. Here, dear, pass me that bag.”
Cassie looked at the old lady and shook her head. Mrs Morris was still quite pale and she looked tired. “I can bring it in, if you want.”
“That would be nice.” Mrs Morris smiled at her gratefully. “Through here, look.”
Cassie couldn’t help peering around as they went through the flat to the kitchen. The rooms were just the same shape as her flat next door, but there was only one comfy armchair in the living room and there were bookshelves lining all the walls. It was so tidy too. “Shall I put it here on the counter?”
“That’s right. I’ve got some squash, I’ll get you a glass. And a biscuit. To say thank you for helping.”
Cassie nodded. Mum wouldn’t mind. She knew Mrs Morris, it wasn’t like Cassie was taking food from a stranger. Mrs Morris had to search for the squash – it was at the back of a cupboard and it looked sticky and a bit dusty.
“I got this for when my little great-nieces came to visit,” Mrs Morris said, looking at it rather worriedly.
“Orange squash is my favourite,” Cassie said, trying to be polite and wondering how long it was since the girls had come. She’d never noticed anyone visiting their neighbour. At least the biscuits looked quite new. “Did you really mean it about the fair?”
“Oh yes. This was hundreds of years ago, though. Back in the 1600s they started having them, I think. There was a different London Bridge then, you see, with big stone columns holding it up. Then they rebuilt the bridge with smaller pillars and it made the water flow faster, so the river doesn’t freeze these days.”
Cassie sighed. She would have loved to see the river frozen over, although she couldn’t imagine a fair on it. “What sort of fair was it?” she asked, taking a cautious sip of squash. It tasted fine. “I mean, they didn’t have dodgems and things then, did they?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Mrs Morris looked thoughtful. “But I suppose there would have been sideshows, like the ones we’d see today. Perhaps not coconut shies, because I don’t think anyone would have brought coconuts here yet? They’d only just got as far the Americas by then…” Mrs Morris noticed that Cassie was frowning uncertainly at her and shook her head. “I imagine they had a ring toss or that trick where you have to find the ball under a cup.”
“I wanted to do that once but my dad said no because it’s a con,” Cassie pointed out.
Mrs Morris laughed. “I bet it was a con four hundred years ago as well. They had puppet shows, I know that, and even wild-beast shows. In fact, I’m sure I remember reading that Chipperfield’s Circus first started back then, with a wild-beast show on the ice. I expect the beast owners didn’t treat them very well, though. This is a long time ago, when people thought it was funny to have fights between dogs and bears, and that sort of thing.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yes… But back then, people thought differently about animals. Hunting was still something that lots of people did every day for food. Even in London, richer people might come out of the city to hunt for sport. Probably not much further out than here, actually.”
Cassie frowned. “You couldn’t hunt anything round here! Maybe pigeons…”
“But there were hardly any houses here back then!” Mrs Morris looked out of the window at the blocks of flats rising beyond the patch of waste ground. “London was so much smaller. There were Roman walls all round the main part of the city and Southwark was a separate village on the other side of the river.”
Cassie stared at her. Southwark was where they were now and it was definitely part of London, even if it was south of the river.
“The only way across was by London Bridge or by boat, so it was almost countryside here. There were buildings along the edge of the river and down the road that led from the bridge but the rest of the area would have been woods and fields.”
Cassie smiled, thinking of her foxes. They would probably have liked old Southwark a lot more. Although there wouldn’t have been such good pickings from the bins.
Mrs Morris had been unpacking her shopping bags as she talked and now she took a sausage roll out of one of the packets. She wrapped it in a bit of cling film and handed it to Cassie. “There. You give that to your foxes.”
Cassie blinked. How had the old lady known what she had been thinking?
“Like I said, I shouldn’t have been so cross that day. I feel sorry for the poor things, always hungry. Especially in weather like this, they must be so cold. I won’t tell your mother, Cassie. Now, hadn’t you better get back?”
Cassie told her mum about helping Mrs Morris, but she hid the sausage roll in her bottom drawer, under her socks. There was no way she could slip out again that evening – perhaps she’d be able to find an excuse to take it to Frost tomorrow.
As she was getting ready for bed – tiptoeing about, like she always did, so as not to
wake up Lucas in his cot in the corner – Cassie stopped to look out of the window at the snow. It had started again while they were eating tea – thick, slow flakes that just kept on coming.
It made Cassie feel sleepy, watching the steady fall. The scruffy, mud-patched grass outside was now completely white again, all the footprints gone. Cassie chewed her bottom lip – the snow was beautiful but all she could think about was the foxes. They must be huddled in their den under the bramble bushes. Or perhaps they were already out looking for food? She shivered, thinking how cold and wet they must be. The wind had picked up a little and the snow was falling faster now, driving almost sideways past the streetlamps.
Then Cassie rubbed fiercely at the glass, which had misted with her breath. Something had moved, out there in the whiteness. A little dark shape that was coming closer towards her.
It looked like Frost – it was hard to tell, it could be one of the other cubs, but Cassie was almost sure. She was padding forward, head down against the wind, her paws leaving deep tracks in the snow – tracks that started to fill up as soon as she had passed.
As Cassie watched, the little fox looked up at the building for a moment and Cassie thought that she saw her. The cub stared back, holding Cassie’s gaze. Then she turned to trek on round the side of the flats, perhaps to go and see if there were any pickings in the bin room.
Cassie wriggled out from behind the curtains, letting them fall back against the window with a soft slap. She looked quickly at Lucas, but the noise hadn’t disturbed him. He was still fast asleep. William had gone over to their cousin Riley’s house after tea for a sleepover. Cassie frowned out at the snow. She’d had a fight with Mum about that at tea – why was William allowed to go for a sleepover and she wasn’t? She wasn’t that much younger than he was and she could have stayed in her cousin Jessie’s room. Will hadn’t stuck up for her either. She shook her head crossly. It wasn’t important now. Dad was out at work and – yes, she could hear the water running – Mum was about to get in the bath. So maybe, if she was quick, she could slip out after all. She could take that sausage roll to Frost now and no one would ever know she’d been gone.
Cassie crept out into the hallway, lit scarlet and blue and gold by the sparkling lights on the Christmas tree, and grabbed her coat and wellies. She only had her onesie on but it was quite warm and thick, and it wasn’t as if she’d be out for long. She took the spare key from the little bowl on the shelf and then slipped out, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. She just had to hope that Mum didn’t go to check on Lucas before getting in the bath, that was all.
She hurried down the stairs and through the front door, watching out for any of their neighbours who might ask her what she was doing out on her own this late. But no one seemed to be about. Cassie crunched through the snow round the side of the block, back to where she’d last seen Frost.
There were tiny paw prints in the snow – just little dips now, almost filled in, but they were deep enough to follow. Frost had clearly gone to look at the bin room, but it was all locked up, and then she’d made her way back to the little playground. There was a litter bin there that was usually full – Cassie wasn’t surprised that it was tempting to a hungry fox. As she came closer a little face peered out at her around the slide and she stopped, crouching down.
“I got you something!” she called quietly, undoing the cling film. “Look – a sausage roll – and it’s a big one. Mrs Morris gave it to me.”
Frost looked around cautiously and then pattered across the snow. She was so light compared to Cassie, if she moved fast her paws hardly sank in at all.
Cassie broke off a piece of sausage roll and held it out to Frost. The fox cub leaned in and gently took it from her fingers, gulping down the treat and then running her tongue around her muzzle eagerly as if she didn’t want to miss any crumbs.
“Was that good?” Cassie giggled. “Here you go, have another bit.”
She fed the whole sausage roll to the little fox and by the last bit, the cub was leaning up against her knees. Cassie thought she might even be dribbling. “You really liked that, didn’t you?” she murmured. “I wish I had some more for you, but that was it. Maybe I could use some of my pocket money to buy you some more? I could ask Mrs Morris to get them for me the next time she goes to the shops. She did say she felt sorry for you all, out here in the snow.” Cassie shivered. The snow was still falling – it had settled on her coat and the legs of her onesie felt soggy.
Frost stood up, shook her ears and gave a little yawn. She looked so much happier than she had a few minutes before, when Cassie had seen her from the window. Even her coat seemed brighter and glossier, and her tail was thick and bushy. The food had clearly made her feel lots better. She trotted a few steps away, and then stopped and looked back at Cassie. Her ears were pricked and she had a questioning sort of look. As if she was asking Cassie why she wasn’t coming too.
“I’ve got to go back…” Cassie started to say. “Mum thinks I’m in bed.”
Frost put her head on one side and Cassie smiled. “Oh, all right then. Not for long though, OK? I’ll be in big trouble if Mum goes to check on Lucas and I’m not there.”
She followed the little fox through the snow, still shivering a little. Her wellies were waterproof, but they weren’t very warm and she couldn’t actually feel her toes any more.
“Where are we going?” she whispered to Frost as they slipped out of the estate and on to the main road. It was oddly quiet tonight. The snow seemed to have muffled all sound – there was nothing but a faint rumble of cars. No one else was out in the frozen night and the road was empty. There weren’t even car tracks spoiling the whiteness of the snow and all the parked cars had turned to strange, smooth humps.
“I hope Dad can get back,” Cassie muttered. Her dad worked at a print shop, a cycle ride away on the other side of the river. “It’s not that far. I guess he’ll probably walk home and leave the bike at work.”
Frost looked round as she spoke but kept on walking and Cassie kept on following, peering thoughtfully at the streets around her. She needed to remember which way they were going. She wasn’t sure that Frost would bring her back home and although they hadn’t gone far, everything looked so different in the snow.
Really different. Cassie blinked. She didn’t remember this road at all. She’d thought they were about to turn into the road where her school was, but now they were somewhere else entirely. She looked worriedly back at Frost – but the fox cub had disappeared. Cassie caught her breath in a frightened gasp. Where had Frost gone? She whirled round to look behind her and then yelped in shock as she went skidding in the snow.
“Careful, there…” Someone laughed and set her back on her feet. “Steady now, Cassie. You nearly fell. What were you trying to look at? Those apprentice boys throwing snowballs again, were they?”
Cassie swallowed hard, and stared up at the man smiling down at her and holding her hand. She knew him – but she didn’t know how… There was something oddly familiar about the woman and the tall boy standing beside him too. She nodded. She wasn’t quite sure what else to do.
The dark street was entirely unfamiliar now – narrow and crowded with houses that seemed to lean over above her, their upper floors sticking out so that they almost touched each other. There were no street lights, just lanterns hung outside houses here and there, and even with the snow she could see that there was a muddy, dirty gutter down the middle of the road.
Her clothes had changed too – her onesie was gone and now she had on a thick dress, worn over what felt like layers of petticoats, and a warm brown cloak over the top. And her wellies were heavy leather shoes with wooden soles.
“Wool-gathering, sweetheart?” the man asked her, still smiling.
Cassie blinked at him. What did woolgathering mean?
“Perhaps it’s too late for you to be out of bed? Shall I take only Will to the Frost Fair and send you back to stay at home with Lucas and the maid?”
The Frost Fair! The fair on ice that Mrs Morris had told her about! Everything seemed to blur inside Cassie’s head, so that she only knew she didn’t want to be left behind, like she always was when fun things happened.
“No!” Cassie squeaked indignantly. She was going to the Frost Fair, just like her big brother, and she wouldn’t be left at home like baby Lucas.
Will was already getting ahead of them. She pulled hard on her father’s hand, and said, “Let’s hurry!”
“Perhaps it is a little late?” her mother said, eyeing Cassie worriedly from under the thick woollen hood of her cloak. “It could be rough too, Christopher. All the apprentice boys will be out, racing about the stalls. There’ll be such crowds…”
“We’ll be careful,” Cassie’s father promised. “Remember, I’ve been there printing name cards each night so far and there hasn’t been trouble. It’s a wonderful sight, Sarah, all those torches burning and everything glittering on the ice. Some were even lighting bonfires on it last night.”
“Doesn’t that melt through the ice?” Will asked, frowning.
“A little, but the ice is thick enough that it doesn’t matter,” their father explained. “We had to make sure it was good and solid before we took the printing press out on to the river – I think it must be at least a foot thick.”
“Will you print me a card with my name?” Cassie asked pleadingly. “Will you, Father?”
Her father laughed. “I can print your name whenever you like, Cassie!”
“I know but it wouldn’t be the same. I want a card that says it was printed on the Thames. I’ll keep it forever, I promise.”
“Me too,” Will added hopefully.
“Well, I’ll see, if the booth isn’t too busy,” their father said, smiling to himself. He had done excellent business over the last two days printing keepsakes from the Frost Fair. Cassie had overheard him promising her mother that she should have a new dress if the sales kept going so well.