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House of Christmas Secrets

Page 2

by Lynda Stacey


  Madeleine smiled and nodded. ‘You sure can, but can you please tell me why my little girl is such a tomboy these days?’ she asked as she pushed a small piece of cake into Poppy’s mouth. ‘I mean, come on, it isn’t that long ago you were playing with dolls and teddy bears. But now … now you dress up like a super hero, kick balls and climb trees.’ She gave Poppy a hug and a kiss before allowing her to run back to where Jack was sitting.

  ‘Because being a super hero is more fun, isn’t it, Poppy?’ Jack began to tickle Poppy. ‘And climbing trees makes you look like a monkey, doesn’t it?’ Poppy squealed in delight, and Jack glanced up to where both Madeleine and Jess stood. ‘Jess, Jess. Help. Jess help me,’ he shouted. ‘I’m in danger … and Spider-Man is about to save me.’ His raised voice disturbed the sleeping Buddy and Jack now found himself pinned to the floor, with the spaniel bouncing and barking around him. ‘Oy, oy, oy … Enough …’ he said, in an attempt to calm the dog. ‘You’ll go outside,’ he threatened.

  ‘Yeah, go on, Buddy, get him,’ Poppy yelled and giggled as she too joined in with Buddy and jumped on top of Jack, while waving her arms around in the air.

  Jess sat down at the table and watched the pair play. Jack really was everything she’d ever wished for in a man. He was kind, fun and she just knew he’d make the best father in the world.

  ‘Oh, I’m not saving you, Jack,’ Jess said with a laugh. ‘You deserve all you get for teasing her.’ She picked up the teapot and shook it. ‘I think I’ll take a pot up to Emily. I’m sure she’ll be ready for one by now.’ Jess had left Emily sleeping a couple of hours before and always checked on her before supper.

  ‘Serves me right, does it? Well …’ Jack moved onto his hands and knees. ‘… this nice guy just turned into the Incredible Hulk, and he’s gonna get ya,’ he shouted, scurrying across the floor to chase Poppy, who had now run to Jess and jumped up and into her arms.

  ‘Aunty Jess! Ahhh, save me!’ She buried her face into Jess’s neck, while giggling and squirming as Jack came closer.

  ‘Taken refuge with Aunty Jess, have we?’ Jack growled, still in Incredible Hulk mode. ‘Well, if I catch you, I’m going to tickle you till you scream and then … then I’m gonna blow raspberries on your tummy.’ He advanced on Poppy who squirmed and clung to her aunt like an overgrown baby orangutan. ‘And, you, protector of the little one, you …’ He paused and leaned forward, giving Jess just a moment to catch the sparkle in his eye. ‘… you, my dear, get a kiss for your trouble.’ He planted a firm kiss on Jess’s lips, and then turned to the back door, opened it and threw the ball across the lawn for Buddy to chase. ‘Go on, boy, off you go, have a run.’ He watched as the spaniel ran out and across the grass, before happily heading for the woods.

  ‘What’s all this talk about kissing?’ Bandit asked as he entered the kitchen and automatically threw his arms around Madeleine. ‘If there’s any kissing going on, then I’m sure that we should be involved.’ He planted a kiss on Madeleine’s lips, leaned back, looked into her eyes and kissed her again. ‘In fact, I definitely think we should be involved,’ he said, making them both laugh.

  ‘Now then you sloppy lot, put each other down while you’re in my kitchen.’ Nomsa laughed. ‘I won’t have kissing going on in here, no, sir.’ She swiped at Bandit with her tea towel. ‘And you, young man,’ she said, pointing to the utility room, ‘go and wash your hands and then you can try my cake.’ She turned to Jess. ‘I’ll make up a tea tray for you to take up to Emily … you can take her some cake too.’

  Chapter Three

  Emily sat up against the array of pillows and looked out of the window over the vast gardens that surrounded the Hall. The flowers had long since gone with the autumn, but the shrubs and trees still remained, although most of the trees had now lost their leaves. No matter what the season, she never tired of this view; after all, this same room had been hers since she was a very small child. And now, at ninety-three years old, she’d had a good life and, for most of it, all the beauty Wrea Head Hall had to offer had surrounded her. She’d known love, companionship and, even though she had never expected it, she’d had her final moments back here at the Hall.

  She looked down at her hands, the paper-thin skin that covered them and the dark veins that stood out from beneath. How had she got so old, she wondered? And when had life taken over her body and turned her from a being a vibrant young woman into an old one? She took in a deep breath and held onto her chest. The pain was there every time she breathed in and she took short shallow gasps until it subsided.

  Emily leaned out of bed. She needed her pen and writing paper and so pulled open the top drawer of her dressing table, where the letters she’d already written looked back at her. There was one for Jack and one for Madeleine. There was also one for her son, Arthur. But there was one more letter she needed to write. She needed to write to Jess before it was too late and before every ounce of energy finally left her body. It was a time she knew wasn’t too far away, and yet, a time she’d come to terms with. But how to start her letter? All the letters had been important in their own way, but the one to Jess just had to be right, and what to say to her was a decision in itself, which was why she’d left it until last.

  Emily thought of Jess and smiled. She’d become more like a daughter to her than a friend. But how would she say goodbye, for that’s what the letters would be, a final goodbye to the people she loved. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment before starting:

  My dearest Jess

  My dear girl, how I wish I’d had a daughter and how I wish she’d been just like you. There would have been nothing I would have changed, for you are beautiful both inside and out.

  Over the past year I’ve tried to tell you my story, tried to teach you from all that I got wrong and, through my stories, you know that I have kept far too many secrets. My stories and secrets are my legacy to you. For secrets, as you know, cause trouble. They are never a good thing and the secrets that are held within this house, and within the people in it, really need to stop, for all of your sakes. After all, why do we keep a secret in the first place? Is it to protect ourselves or others around us? And if it is to protect others, why oh why do we feel they need our protection? Isn’t that for them to decide?

  We should always remember that every secret is preceded by an action. And it’s normally an action that should never have happened in the first place. So, think twice, my darling girl, think twice about everything you do, especially if you think it’s something that you shouldn’t, because secrets are crippling, they never bring joy, or should I say they never brought me any joy. And me, I made the biggest mistake of all. I was keeping everyone’s secrets for them and making sure that everyone around me was happy. Even though, most of the time, other people’s happiness was at the cost of my own.

  Now, don’t mistake my words. I have been content for most of the time and I’ve had a good life. I loved my Eddie with all my heart and with that love I bore my son Arthur. If my Eddie hadn’t been injured in the war, if his mind hadn’t been taken from him, I’m sure we’d have married and lived happily – but a happiness such as that was not for me. I was frowned upon and brought shame to my family for living with a man that was not my husband, but I loved him so much, even though with his mental state he had no idea who I was. But I wouldn’t have had it any other way. My life was exactly how it should have been. So please, don’t be sad at my passing. Just smile in the knowledge that you made my last days the best that they could have been.

  Emily broke off from writing, leaned back and sighed. She breathed in and out, taking short shallow breaths. She was afraid of the pain and wanted to finish her letter before it got too bad. She spent a few moments concentrating on her breathing before pushing the quilt back and getting out of bed. She pushed her feet into her slippers and then, with hesitant steps, she made her way over to the wardrobe, all the while using the furniture to steady her balance. Opening the wardrobe doors, Emily stood back and studied the few clothe
s that remained, the few possessions she’d brought with her and the memory box that sat in one corner of the shelf. Carefully, she opened the box and peered inside at the photographs, small pieces of jewellery and the letters that Eddie had sent to her during the war. With shaking hands, she moved the items from side to side, until she put her hand on a small, thin jewellery box. She stared at it for a moment before opening it to reveal a necklace. It was a small silver love heart that had been a gift for her eighteenth birthday. She smiled as she remembered the tears that had filled her mother’s eyes as she’d presented her with the chain and the words she’d said: ‘This, my darling, can be worn at your wedding, once your father approves of a suitable man, that is.’ Emily knew that her parents had hoped that she would marry a doctor, a solicitor or an accountant, but she’d rebelled and had only ever loved her Eddie, a simple gardener who had loved her back, much to her parents’ disgust.

  ‘Just perfect,’ she whispered as she replaced the lid to her most treasured memories and carefully made her way back to the bed, where she covered herself with the quilt and collapsed against the pillows. She took a moment to regain her strength before once again picking up the pen and completing the letter.

  I’m thinking of secrets, Jess, and I’m pleased you chose to share yours with me. I know it’s early days, but it’s time you spoke to Jack. You have to tell him what you know. He’s a good man, the right man for you, and he’ll look after you and support you. He’ll make the best husband you could ever wish for, I promise. Oh, I see the sparkle in your eyes when you look at him, the way you blush and smile and, what’s more, I see the way that he looks at you too. It’s more than obvious how much your love for each other has grown over the past year. So please, take control of your life, while you have the chance. Be happy together, and have the kind of good, real, loving relationship that I could never have with my Eddie, not after the war.

  But living life through a loving relationship comes with a responsibility of its own and, as you’ll have found within this envelope, I’ve given you my necklace. It was a necklace that my mother gave to me. A necklace I never ever wore, because with it had been the condition that I should only wear it on my wedding day, but only if I married the man that my father chose. But that was never going to happen. I would never have chosen another, not over my Eddie, so it’s lain in my memory box for far too many years. But you, my dear Jess, I hope you will wear it on the day you marry Jack. I’m sorry, my darling, I don’t think I am going to live long enough to see you two married, but hold me in your heart and I’ll walk with you every step of the way, for always. You go together so perfectly and I just hope that the happiness you share now will last you both for the whole of your lifetime.

  Sending you love as always

  Emily x

  Chapter Four

  Jack took the stairs two at a time, his hand barely touching the carved oak balustrade as he leapt from one step to the other. He reached the top, turned onto the landing, and burst in through Emily’s bedroom door.

  For a moment he felt as though he were either in the wrong room, or on a film set and definitely intruding on something he shouldn’t. The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks while he gasped for breath. The normally peaceful room was a hive of activity, with Emily central to the attention. She lay flat on the bed; her pillows had been tossed to the floor and two paramedics worked feverishly on her. Meanwhile, his Jess was crouched down in a corner, humming, rocking and sobbing with her eyes tightly closed and her fingers pressed into her ears. It suddenly occurred to him that he’d never seen her look quite so small, or as fragile and defenceless, like a very young child who was upset or hiding.

  ‘Jess, I’m here, come on, I’m here, I’ve got you.’ He went to her, reached out towards her, almost afraid to touch her, and in a gentle loving gesture he used just one finger to stroke her cheek, knowing that in her current state he’d have frightened her even more if he’d taken hold of her. He waited for a moment until she opened one eye and acknowledged him, and then carefully but firmly he pulled her towards him, turning her away from the bed, so as to block her view. He didn’t want her to see what the paramedics were doing, even though he knew she’d already witnessed too much.

  He shook his head, annoyed with himself that he hadn’t been here when Jess needed him. A walk in the woods with Buddy had taken him out of range of any mobile signal and only when he’d heard the ambulance had he realised that something was very wrong. He had run back across the fields and into the Hall, where an inconsolable, sobbing Nomsa had pointed to the stairs, while all the time shepherding guests into the conservatory and away from the commotion.

  For a moment he just stared at where Emily lay, watching carefully as paramedics rushed around with oxygen, defibrillators and more swabs and syringes than he’d ever seen. Then the men gave each other a look, a look that told Jack that Emily had gone, that there was nothing more they could do, and he began mentally preparing himself for how Jess would be, how he’d tell her and how he’d look after her during the days to come. Nothing seemed real, the room felt as though it were full of fog, like a mist enveloping them all.

  The pandemonium had stopped. The fog lifted and one paramedic checked his watch; a time was muttered, a phone call was made and paperwork completed. Then Jack watched as they began packing equipment away, placing syringes and swabs into tubs and bags, before respectfully covering Emily’s body with a sheet and leaving the room, carrying all the equipment down the stairs with them.

  Jack felt hot and nauseous. His head began to spin and he could feel himself trembling. It was a trembling that started in his toes and travelled up and into both of his arms that were wrapped around Jess. And then, suddenly, he gasped and took a breath, realising that the whole time he’d been watching the paramedics, he’d been holding it; wishing, praying and hoping that they’d perform a miracle, but all the time knowing that there wouldn’t be one, not today. For a moment or two he concentrated on breathing, in and out, an action that should have been automatic. Automatic, that was, until, like Emily, your body chose not to.

  Both Madeleine and Bandit burst into the room and Jack immediately caught Bandit’s eye, and shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he mouthed as he moved Jess past them in an attempt to take her out of the room and onto the landing, where a group of guests hovered, all watching with tear-filled eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, but please, give the family some privacy. I believe Nomsa is serving tea in the conservatory.’ He ushered the guests towards the stairs, all the while holding onto Jess. He looked back into the room and prayed that Emily’s passing had been fast, and that she hadn’t felt any pain. After all, wasn’t that what everyone wished for? Didn’t we all want to pass without trauma, pain or suffering?

  ‘I … I … can’t leave her,’ Jess suddenly whispered, lifting a hand and wiping her face, while her eyes pleaded with Jack. ‘Please, please, Jack, I … I can’t leave her, she’s … she’s all alone.’ She began to move back towards the room, but Madeleine stepped forward and wrapped her arms around both Jack and Jess.

  ‘Jess, it’s okay. Bandit’s with her.’ She paused. ‘She’s gone, Jess.’ A deep sob left Madeleine’s throat as she spoke. ‘There’s nothing more you can do. There’s nothing any of us can do. Not any more.’

  Jack loosened his grip and turned back to see where Bandit stood quietly and respectfully beside his grandmother’s bed. He gently held her hand, stroked it and then leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. ‘Rest now, Grandma. Rest in peace.’ The words were simple but final and, on hearing them, Jess fell to her knees as a long piercing scream that seemed to go on forever left her lips, a scream that was quickly followed by heart wrenching, uncontrollable sobs.

  ‘No, no, no,’ she shrieked. ‘She can’t be gone … she was talking to me. She … she was sitting there, in bed, drinking tea and talking … like normal. She … she even insisted I open the window, just as she liked it.’ She looked up and pointed to the bed.
‘She’d wanted the fresh air, but was cold and I got her an extra blanket to keep her warm. So, so … she can’t be gone, can she?’

  Chapter Five

  Two weeks later

  Bastion Collymore used his body to shield his eight-year-old daughter. It was the only way to protect her from the driving rain that pounded against his back and onto the pavement beyond the shop doorway, in which they’d made their home for the next few hours. He sighed, satisfied that, at least for now, Lily was dry, albeit he knew that she was cold and almost certainly hungry.

  There were so many noises that surrounded them, every one amplified beyond normality. They were noises that during the day would hardly register, would pale into insignificance, but on a cold, dark night were emphasised and felt louder and more dangerous. There was the sound of traffic, the screeching of brakes, the tireless bleeps of a pelican crossing, and the joviality, shrieks and laughter of clubbers and partygoers, all on Christmas party nights out. They were all having fun, all intoxicated and all spending more money in one night than he’d most probably have earned in the past month.

  The whole area was lit up with coloured, flashing Christmas lights. They were hung across the street between flashing Santas, stars and Christmas fairies. The flashing was annoying him and he glanced over his shoulder in the hope that they’d magically stop, only to see a man and woman in their late twenties, only ten years or so younger than he was himself, both tightly entwined and pressed into the corner of a see through polycarbonate bus shelter. He could tell by the way their urgency was growing that their actions would soon turn into a sight that he wouldn’t want Lily to witness and he manoeuvred his body to hide the view from his daughter’s eyes, before nervously resting his own from the flashing onslaught. His eyes hurt with an overwhelming tiredness that he knew wouldn’t go away, not until he could sleep properly, not until he knew they were safe.

 

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