The Christmas Card

by Dilly Court

  She opened her eyes with a start at the sound of something scuffling across the bare boards, but the small creature had disappeared into the shadows and all she could hear was the sound of her heart beating. Wrapping the blanket around her, Alice rose stiffly from the uncomfortable chair and climbed into her equally uncomfortable bed. She was exhausted, but sleep evaded her and she found herself wondering how Flora was coping in her new environment. She closed her eyes, planning to write a long letter to Flora telling her about her experiences in the design office. She would keep the contents light and entertaining, with descriptions of her small corner of the office and the view she had of the inner well of the building. There would be descriptions of the pigeons that huddled from the cold on the windowsill, fluffing out their feathers in order to keep warm. She would tell Alice that she had begun to recognise individuals by their markings and had given them names. Having exhausted the supply of pigeon stories, she would describe her workmates, likening George to an engaging puppy, eager to please and make friends. Martin was a pet lapdog, spoiled and constantly demanding attention, and Rawlins was a terrier, snapping at her heels. She decided to add caricatures, which would be amusing rather than cruel, but she would have to keep her drawings out of sight, tucked away in the drawer where she kept her personal belongings. It would be a disaster if her colleagues were to find them. She drifted off to sleep, smiling.

  At the end of her first week at Dearborns’ Alice arrived early in the office, but to her surprise she found Martin was already at his desk.

  He rose to his feet and sauntered over to her. ‘Good morning, Miss Radcliffe.’

  His wide grin put her in mind of the big bad wolf in the tale of Little Red Riding-Hood, but she returned his greeting with an attempt at a smile. ‘Good morning, Mr Collis.’

  He leaned against her desk with his arms folded. ‘I think we should dispense with the formalities. My name is Martin, and from now on I will call you Alice.’

  ‘I’ve no objection to that.’ She took off her bonnet and hung it on a peg near her desk.

  He moved a step closer. ‘We should get to know each other better, Alice.’

  ‘I’d like to get to know everyone,’ she said tactfully. ‘I know it must be difficult for you to have a woman working with you.’

  He inched even closer, fingering the frogging on her mantle. ‘You’re little more than a slip of a girl, but I’d be happy to educate you into the ways of the world.’ He winked and moved his hand to tickle her chin.

  ‘Thank you, Martin, but I can manage very well on my own.’ She backed away. Slipping off her jacket, she hung it beside her bonnet and took her seat at her desk. ‘If you’ll excuse me I must get on. I have work to do.’

  ‘That’s not very friendly, Alice.’ He leaned over her. ‘I was going to ask if you’d like to accompany me to the theatre this evening.’

  ‘That’s so kind of you, but I’m afraid my fiancé would be very unhappy if I accepted your invitation.’ Alice held up her left hand. She only wore the ring on days when she planned to visit her mother, and this was such a day.

  Martin eyed her suspiciously. ‘You weren’t wearing that yesterday. I’m damned sure of that.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe you just didn’t notice, Martin. It was very kind of you to ask me out, but you will understand why I have to refuse.’

  Mumbling beneath his breath he made his way back to his desk, stamping his feet as if he were about to have a tantrum. Alice tried not to smile. She had seen Flora behave in such a way, but she would not have expected a grown man to act like a child.

  She was saved from an awkward situation by George, who bounced into the office grinning from ear to ear. ‘The boss has returned. I just saw Mr Frederick getting out of his carriage. We’ll be back to normal now, and Rawlins will have his nose put out of joint.’

  ‘Did I hear my name being taken in vain?’ Rawlins Wall strode into the room, glaring at George, who flushed with embarrassment. ‘What was it you were saying, Young?’

  George hung his head. ‘I was joking, Mr Wall. Sorry, sir.’

  ‘Get to work, boy. You’re very nearly late.’

  Martin sprawled on his chair. ‘I’d call that being bang on time, Rawlins old chap.’

  ‘Less of the cheek, Collis. Being the most senior member of my staff doesn’t give you the right to be rude to your superior.’ Rawlins turned to Alice, frowning. ‘You’re to go to Mr Dearborn’s office now. Toot sweet.’

  ‘What have you done wrong, Miss Radcliffe?’ Martin called out as she rose from her seat. ‘You’ll be taken down a peg or two, I hope.’

  George faced him angrily. ‘That’s a bit rich, coming from you.’

  Rawlins shrugged off his greatcoat. ‘Get to work, gentlemen. The designs for the new sets of playing cards are due in the factory next week. I want to see your efforts by the end of the morning, and if they don’t suit then you’ll both be working tomorrow as well.’

  ‘But tomorrow is Sunday,’ Martin protested.

  Alice slipped out of the office without waiting to hear more. Petty squabbles were common when Martin chose to challenge his superior’s authority. Rawlins obviously considered that he was in charge, although everyone knew that the only real boss was Frederick Dearborn. She patted a stray hair into place and hurried along the corridor that led to his office. She knocked on the door and entered.

  ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

  Frederick looked up from a pile of correspondence on the desk in front of him. His stern expression melted into a smile. ‘Yes, Miss Radcliffe. Please take a seat.’

  She sank down on the nearest chair. ‘How is Flora, sir? I’ve been so worried about her.’

  ‘She cried when I left.’ He shook his head and sighed. ‘But she will settle down in time, or so I hope, and it’s only natural that she should feel homesick at first.’

  ‘Where is Willoughby Hall, sir? Is it very far away?’

  ‘It’s situated in the wilds of the Yorkshire Moors. She will be safe there, and I believe the discipline is strict, which is what Flora needs. I hope in time that she’ll benefit from the education she’ll receive and that she’ll learn to be a young lady.’

  Alice sensed that he was trying to convince himself that the far away school was the best thing for his daughter, but she experienced a sense of foreboding. In her mind’s eye she could picture Willoughby Hall in a bleak moorland setting, and poor little Flora feeling lost and alone amongst strangers.

  ‘I’d like to write to her if you have no objections, Mr Dearborn.’

  His expression lightened. ‘That would be a kindness, Miss Radcliffe. I’m sorry that your employment in my household was terminated so abruptly, and I know that you were doing your best for Flora. It’s just a pity that my brother had to interfere. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t told Flora about her mother.’

  ‘With respect, sir, it was Smithson who told Flora that she was adopted.’

  ‘So I believe, but we must put it all behind us.’ He picked up a sheaf of papers. ‘You’re settling in well, I hope?’

  Alice took her cue and rose to her feet. ‘Yes, thank you, sir.’

  ‘Good,’ he said vaguely. ‘I look forward to seeing your designs.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Alice hesitated. He was studying one of the documents and seemed to have forgotten her. ‘May I have Flora’s address, please?’

  He looked up, blinking as if surprised to see her there. ‘Yes, of course.’ He reached for a pen and scribbled something on a scrap of paper. ‘If you give the letter to Beasley he’ll post it for you. Stamps are still quite dear, but we’ll write it off as a business expense.’ He handed her the paper and bent his head over his work.

  Alice left the room and returned to her office.

  Martin looked up as she entered. ‘Got the sack, have you, love?’

  ‘I expect she’s been promoted,’ George said quickly. ‘She’s probably your senior now, Collis, so you’d better watch out.�
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  ‘That’s enough, gentlemen.’ Rawlins popped his head up over the partition that separated his desk from theirs. ‘Get on with your work or you’ll make up the time on Sunday.’ He glanced at Alice. ‘I’ll take a look at your drawings, Miss Radcliffe. Let’s see how you’re doing.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Wall.’ She went to her desk and fetched her latest design for a festive card.

  He was impressed. She could tell by the way his eyes widened as he studied the sketches. He nodded with approval. ‘They’re not bad,’ he said grudgingly. ‘Obviously you need to work on them, but they’re passable. I want to see the finished design by next Wednesday, and then I’ll decide if they’re good enough to present to Mr Dearborn.’

  ‘You’re lucky,’ George whispered as Alice returned to her desk. ‘He usually throws out the first dozen or so attempts.’ His smile faded as he realised that Rawlins was glaring at him and he looked away quickly.

  Alice resumed her seat with mixed feelings. Rawlins had not praised her efforts, but his reaction had been favourable, and at least George seemed to have accepted her presence with good grace. Martin would prove more difficult, but her main concern was Flora.

  Rawlins always left the office at noon for his daily visit to the factory in Wapping, although everyone knew that he went first to the pub across the street for a pint of ale and a meat pie. Alice waited until he had gone and seized the opportunity to finish the letter to Flora. She sealed the envelope and was about to take it to Beasley when Martin called her back.

  ‘Is that a billet-doux, sweetheart?’

  She smiled sweetly. ‘I’ll leave that to your fertile imagination, Martin.’

  ‘Answer that if you can,’ George said, chuckling.

  That evening Alice left the office and walked to Queen Square. Clara welcomed her with genuine pleasure, clucking like a small mother hen as she took Alice’s rain-soaked mantle and bonnet.

  ‘Lawks, miss, you’ll catch your death of cold if you’re not careful. You should have taken a cab.’

  ‘I’m all right, thank you, Clara. How is my mother?’

  ‘Much better, I think.’ Clara hooked the wet garments over her arm. ‘I’ll take these to the kitchen where it’s a bit warmer. Your ma is in the parlour with Mr Horace.’

  ‘And my aunt?’

  ‘On her knees in church, I suppose. I dunno, miss. She don’t confide in the likes of us below stairs.’ Clara sniffed and marched off with her head held high.

  Smiling to herself Alice made her way to the parlour, but as she opened the door the sweet sound of her mother singing ‘Come into the Garden, Maud’ took her back to happier times. Beth was accompanying herself on the piano, and Horace sat listening with a beatific smile on his face. Alice clapped her hands as she entered the room and Horace leaped to his feet, looking so guilty that it was laughable.

  Clutching her hand to her bosom, Beth rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t ever do that again, Alice. I thought Jane had returned early.’

  ‘I’m not scared of Jane,’ Horace said hastily. ‘I just need to keep on the right side of her.’

  Alice suppressed a giggle. ‘You look like a pair of frightened rabbits.’

  ‘That’s no way to speak to your mama,’ Horace protested, moving closer to Beth. ‘We thought that Jane had gone out and you startled us.’

  ‘Yes, dear,’ Beth added gently. ‘We weren’t doing anything wrong.’

  Alice went to sit by the fire, which to her surprise was blazing up the chimney. ‘It’s easy to see that you didn’t expect her back soon.’

  ‘I pay for the coal,’ Horace said stiffly.

  ‘I understand why Mama has to be careful,’ Alice said, eyeing him curiously. ‘But why do you allow Aunt Jane to bully you, Horace?’

  He cleared his throat several times and his cheeks flushed. ‘I’m living in her house and so I must abide by her rules. I have no choice.’

  ‘But when you’re married we will be free,’ Beth said eagerly. ‘Does it have to be a long engagement, Alice? I don’t like the thought of you living in that dreadful attic room, and going to business every day isn’t what a well-brought-up young lady should be doing. Your poor papa would turn in his grave if he knew.’

  ‘If Papa had not left us in such a terrible plight none of this would have happened.’ Alice spoke more sharply than she had intended, but she was tired after a long day at work, and chilled to the bone after the walk to Queen Square in the pouring rain. Her bodice was damp, as were her petticoats, and she was hungry.

  ‘Your father did his best for us.’ Beth’s eyes filled with tears. ‘He loved us both dearly, but he was a scholar and not a businessman. Robert was very generous while he lived, but when he was taken so suddenly our income more than halved.’

  Alice stared at her in surprise. ‘I didn’t know that. I wonder if Aunt Jane was aware that her husband was helping to support us.’

  ‘I doubt it, but it’s true. Robert was a kind man, and your father was devoted to him. Now they’re both gone, and Viola too. I really do think we are cursed as a family.’ She mopped her eyes with her hanky.

  Horace laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘There, there, my dear. Don’t upset yourself. We are all the victims of misfortune and unfortunately Jane has the upper hand. I think she revels in the power it gives her.’

  ‘I’m sure she does,’ Alice said with a wry smile. She shook out her damp skirts, which were steaming in the heat from the fire. ‘She takes great pleasure in our discomfort, but I hope to change that soon.’

  Beth reached out to clutch her daughter’s hand. ‘Are you willing to name the day? The house I told you about is still on the market, isn’t it, Horace?’

  ‘So I believe, my dear.’ Horace grinned nervously. ‘Are you saying that we will be married soon, Alice?’

  ‘No,’ she said hastily. ‘That’s not what I meant at all. Mr Dearborn pays me double the wages I used to earn, and I was hoping to rent a room where Mama and I could live quite cheaply.’

  Beth’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened. ‘But, darling, you’re promised to Horace. Surely you aren’t going to break off your engagement?’

  ‘Do you really want me to marry him, Mama?’

  Beth looked from one to the other, shaking her head. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m so confused. All I want is to have a home of my own again.’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, dear lady.’ Horace took her hand in his. ‘Of course you must have what you desire most in the world.’ He turned to Alice, frowning. ‘You’ve upset your mama.’

  Alice leaped to her feet. ‘I only agreed to our engagement to keep Aunt Jane from evicting us. If you’re so fond of him, Mama, why don’t you marry Horace instead of me?’ She regretted her hasty words instantly, but Horace’s reaction took her by surprise.

  ‘Your mama is a wonderful woman, Alice,’ he said angrily. ‘You shouldn’t speak to her in that manner. Any man would be fortunate to have such a lady for his wife.’

  Beth’s pale cheeks were tinged with pink as she stared up at him. ‘What are you saying, Horace?’

  He went down on one knee, raising her hand to his cheek. ‘I would be honoured if you would consider me a suitable husband, Elizabeth.’

  Alice stared at him in astonishment. ‘You’re proposing to my mother?’

  ‘I realised from the start that you were forced into accepting me,’ Horace said humbly. ‘I’ve come to know and respect your mother, and I believe that true love will follow.’

  ‘Mama, you’re not taking this seriously, are you?’ Alice stared at her mother, willing her to respond, but Beth was gazing into Horace’s eyes like a love-struck schoolgirl.

  ‘Do you really want to marry me, Horace?’ she breathed, blushing rosily.

  ‘I do,’ he said simply. ‘I really do.’

  ‘But you’re engaged to me,’ Alice protested, stunned.

  He shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed on Beth’s flushed face. ‘You never intended to go through with it, Alice. You were l
eading me on.’

  ‘Maybe I was, but even so, Aunt Jane won’t allow it.’ Alice sat down suddenly as her legs gave way beneath her. ‘She intended you to produce an heir, Horace. Have you forgotten that?’

  Beth shot her a sideways glance. ‘I’m only thirty-nine, Alice. It’s not impossible.’

  ‘You’re delicate, Mama. You nearly died when you had me, or so I’ve always been told. This is madness.’

  ‘Jane wishes to see me married.’ Horace spoke with renewed confidence. ‘If I choose to wed your mother it’s none of her business. She promised me a home of my own and I’ll hold her to that. The question of children is quite immaterial, as far as I’m concerned.’ He kissed Beth’s hand. ‘Will you marry me, Elizabeth?’

  Alice held up her left hand. ‘You can’t do this, Horace. I’m wearing your ring. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’

  ‘You don’t want me, Alice. You’ve made that abundantly clear.’

  ‘It’s true,’ she said angrily. ‘But we’re still engaged and you are proposing to my mother. It’s not the act of a gentleman.’

  ‘You’re being unreasonable, darling.’ Beth met her daughter’s furious gaze with a dreamy smile. ‘Would you deny me this last chance for happiness?’