On Christmas Day

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On Christmas Day Page 13

by Rosie James


  But Lexi didn’t feel ill – she was in a glorious state of perpetual motion, and enjoying every bit of it, even if she was tired tonight. She smiled to herself as she swivelled gently to and fro, remembering all the times Johnny had swung her round and round in this chair.

  Sitting forward, she opened her eyes and reached into her pocket for the letter which had come that morning. She’d read it once, of course, but hadn’t had time to really take it in, and now she took the two pages from the envelope, spread them out in front of her and began to read. Very slowly. The only other person who’d touched these pages had been Johnny, and she fingered them lovingly, as if they could draw him in closer to her …

  Dear Lexi

  Thank you ever so much for your last letter. I read it over and over again until I could nearly recite it by heart!

  You are clearly as busy as ever at the shop – and I did laugh about those two jelly babies falling into that customer’s turn-ups – do you think he’s found them yet? Did you tell Miss Lewis about it? I’m sure she would have found it amusing.

  There’s no need to enquire as to whether you are still queen of the Pump Room, because I know you are. I was so proud of you, Lexi. One day you will be on the wireless, I know you will.

  I am well into my new course studies now, and I’m afraid I find it all rather boring after the Barra trip. As you might expect, Alfred, now in his third year, lords it over me whenever he gets the chance – which fortunately isn’t that often. But I think all the fresh air we had over there must have done him some good because apparently he is getting his stuff out on time and not bunking off any lectures or getting in hot water with the teaching staff. I think my father would be very surprised at the improvement in his attitude!

  I do have something exciting to tell you, Lexi – well, sort of exciting – because it may never happen … but the thing is, when we came back from Barra we all had to write a piece about the expedition, describing the scenery and the habitat and the wild life … giving our own observations of this or that, you know the sort of thing. Well, anyway, the Head of my year liked my offering so much that – without telling me – he sent it off to the National Geographic magazine, and they have expressed interest in possibly publishing it! Can you believe it! They’ve said they will give the piece their further consideration and be in touch in due course and that they would be happy to look at any further submissions. So that’s all I have to do, Lexi! Just go off on another field trip, and then write about it! I honestly cannot believe that I may one day actually see my words in print for thousands of others to read – and it would be a dream come true. You are the only person who knows that that’s what I would really like to do for the rest of my life, and I know you will be as pleased as I am about it. But I am not counting any chickens – we may not hear from the magazine again, which may be just as well, because my father takes it on a regular basis and if he ever did read my piece I don’t think he would be too pleased! That is not what he has in mind for me, so I must continue with my studies and pass the building and surveying exams and do as I’m told. But I am really excited, and I know you will be, too, Lexi. I just wish I was there with you now so that we could talk about everything that we’d like to do one day.

  It’s nearly time to hit the hay so I’d better close. I’m really looking forward to Christmas and being home – and doing the rounds together again. And by the way I’m so pleased to hear that my father is being nice to you, Lexi. I think I’ve told you that I’ve always found him a very kind person, but that he doesn’t know how to show it. I put that down to our mother dying so early – he’s still very sad and sometimes that makes him cross. But Alfred and I are lucky to have always had lovely Anna looking after us – I have written to her, too, because I know she is missing us.

  Will you be singing Christmas carols at the Pump Room, as well as your other songs? I shall be there in the front, as usual – though I promise not to join in because I would ruin the performance!

  Please give my regards to your mother and to Phoebe and Joe. Not forgetting Lucky! How could I ever forget Lucky!

  And take good care of yourself, won’t you, Lexi?

  Johnny.

  Half-smiling, Lexi put the letter back into the envelope, glad that Johnny had kept to his promise not to sign off his letters with any loving thoughts in case Cecilia happened to see it. Though Lexi knew that he still couldn’t understand what the problem was.

  Feeling relaxed and happy since reading the letter, and stifling a yawn, Lexi leaned forward and dropped her head on to her folded arms, closing her eyes. She’d stay and rest here, just for another five minutes.

  A sudden, unusual noise in the house woke Lexi with a start, and lifting her head she sat up quickly, glancing at the clock in front of her. It was gone nine o’clock! Good heavens, she must have fallen into a deep sleep, though that was no surprise.

  Being in that half-prone position for quite a long time had made her stiff, and she moved her shoulders gently, trying to relieve the stressed feeling. Then she stood up. It was time to go home, though she knew her mother wouldn’t be worried because she knew Lexi sometimes stayed on to talk to Mr McCann.

  Then, as she opened the study door, Lexi heard that noise again, the noise which had woken her just now … and she hesitated before leaving the room, trying to quell her sudden sense of unease. Outside, the wind had picked up again, sending every unlatched door in the house rattling on its hinges. Lexi shivered, suddenly feeling very cold, and she pulled her jacket around her more closely, wishing that she was at home now with Mama and Phoebe and Joe and Lucky there. Grey Gables was a lovely place, everyone said so, but tonight it seemed old, cold – even somehow threatening – though Lexi had never ever felt that before, and she wouldn’t feel it now if Johnny was here as well. She certainly hadn’t felt it when she’d entered the house earlier, and had been perfectly happy that Mr McCann and Anna were not going to be at home. Well, Grey Gables was becoming a bit like a second home – and the kitchen and stair and landing lights had been left on for her.

  But tonight, for the first time in her life, Lexi suddenly felt afraid to be here in the big house. Because this didn’t feel like Johnny’s house, it felt nasty and aloof … as if it couldn’t wait to empty itself of human beings, couldn’t wait for her, Lexi, to get out. She swallowed hard – she knew that part of this was the thought that the resident ghost might suddenly appear before her … it was the renowned cold and forbidding time of year that the Grey Lady had been seen, many times …

  Trying to shake off this irrational train of thought, Lexi reached the top of the stairs, then stopped. There was that sound again, and it was coming from the dining room below – a shuffling, a scuffling, the unusual noise of chairs scraping the floor.

  Lexi felt her mouth go dry. Mr McCann was not expected home yet – so what was down there, who was down there? As she tiptoed carefully down the stairs, she could hear voices, unfamiliar, raised voices, and then the sudden smashing of something being thrown angrily to the floor.

  Lexi’s first thought was to get past that door and run down the stairs to the kitchen and escape out into the back garden. But then, suddenly, the unmistakable sound of Mr McCann’s gruff tones stopped her, and she crept forward and knelt down to peer through the keyhole of the door.

  And the unbelievable sight almost made her faint with horror.

  Mr McCann was sitting on one of the high-backed chairs, his feet lashed together, his hands tied behind him. Two burly men with scarves around their noses and mouths, were leaning over him, cursing volubly and threatening him with a knife held to his throat.

  ‘You tell us where you keep the cash, you bloody old miser, or I’ll give you a taste of this!’ one man yelled, raising a huge stick into the air. ‘Or p’raps you’d like to give some blood! We’ve sharpened the knife!’

  Lexi stayed quite still as she crouched, terrified, on the floor. Surely she was in the middle of a nightmare! Surely this could not be happenin
g…. not to Mr McCann!

  Then she sat back. Something must be done. She must do something!

  Standing up, she ran swiftly, noiselessly, back up the stairs, her heart racing and her mind teeming with the thought of what she was going to do. If she had the guts.

  She reached the study, went inside and found the key to the third drawer of the desk. She knew what was inside because, one day, a long time ago, when they were children, Johnny had shown her.

  It was one of Mr McCann’s prized possessions. His pearl handled, Webley Green revolver, and as Lexi took it out and held it, she remembered how heavy it was. Johnny told her that it was never loaded – his father kept the shot somewhere else – but Johnny had been shown how it could be used if ever it was loaded. And he had explained it to Lexi.

  Now, Lexi retraced her steps and paused for a moment outside the dining room door. The row was still going on, the men cursing with words that Lexi knew should never be uttered. And she also knew that it was now or never. She must try and find every scrap of courage she had.

  With her heart beating so loudly in her throat that she thought she was going to be sick, Lexi very quietly turned the handle of the door, opening it just a crack. Then, remembering Johnny’s instructions, she held the gun in her right hand, bringing it straight up in front of her, lined it up, then brought her left hand over to steady her position, and curled her finger over the trigger. Ready to shoot.

  And then, feeling strangely energized and confident – even though the gun was unloaded – she lifted her foot and threw the door fully open so that it crashed against the jamb – at the same time pointing the gun straight at the intruders. Then, taking a deep breath, she started to scream a horrible scream, with the highest notes she’d ever sung in her life.

  ‘GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!’

  Again and again she emitted the mind-numbing howl, which sent both men spinning round to face her.

  ‘Bloody ‘ell, she’s got a gun!’ one said, dropping his knife, while the other man cowered back and whimpered.

  ‘Don’t shoot … don’t shoot … please don’t shoot, Miss!’

  Still holding the gun straight at them, and with her finger curled menacingly around the trigger, Lexi stood to one side and nodded at the open door. And without another word the men hurled themselves past her, clattering and half-falling down the stairs to the kitchen. Then Lexi heard the back door bang, and they were gone.

  Unable to stop her teeth from chattering, Lexi waited a few moments before she could say a single word. Then she went over and placed the gun on the table before turning to Reynard, who she could see had gone deathly pale. Kneeling down in front of him, she glanced up into his eyes.

  ‘It will take me a minute or two to untie you and get rid of all this rope around your ankles, Mr McCann,’ she said tremulously. ‘But I will be as quick as possible.’

  Reynard watched without saying a word as, with her fingers trembling and her whole body shaking, Lexi pulled and pulled at the knotted rope until at last it fell to the floor. Then she loosened the cord around his wrists and, at last, Reynard was able to move and he got up slowly from the chair, straightening his back. He looked down into her eyes which were still wide with horror and disbelief.

  ‘Thank you, Lexi,’ he said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  For several moments neither of them said a word. Reynard stood to his full height, his face almost mask-like, while Lexi – without even asking permission – pulled out a chair and sank down on to it. Then Reynard cleared his throat and looked down at her.

  ‘That was a very … unfortunate … incident,’ he said, ‘which I hope you will be able to forget as soon as possible, Miss Martin.’ He paused. ‘By that I mean that I would not wish it to be spoken of ever again. To anyone. Anyone at all’.

  Lexi stared, mystified. ‘But – shouldn’t we call the police, Mr McCann?’ she said, surprised at her daring in questioning him.

  ‘That would do no good,’ he said bluntly. ‘We would find it hard to identify those rogues – with their faces almost covered they might resemble any one of the many louts in the town. I myself would certainly not be able to recognize them again.’ He paused before adding – ‘Besides, they did no harm. They did not get one penny out of me, and as far as I can tell the only loss I have sustained is one vase.’ Reynard shrugged. ‘It is of no consequence. I can buy ten more just like it, if I wish to do so.’

  Lexi was frankly astonished at his attitude. Mr McCann seemed totally unperturbed. ‘But they wanted to kill you, Mr McCann,’ she said faintly, but he interrupted.

  ‘Oh no, they wouldn’t have had the courage to do that I assure you,’ he said. ‘Those were typical cowards who were able to overpower me because there were two of them, and they took me by surprise.’ He nodded over at the screen by the fireplace. ‘They were obviously hiding there when I came back, and then they suddenly pounced and I had no chance to defend myself.’

  Reynard went over to one of the windows. ‘Ah – I see how they got in,’ he said. ‘They forced the sash here, and of course the room, being on the ground floor meant it was easy for them to enter the premises.’ His face darkened. ‘I shall arrange for every window on this floor to be reinforced.’ Then he turned to Lexi again.

  ‘As I have already said, I wish that this little incident is now forgotten,’ he said. ‘There is no point in telling anyone else about it because nothing would be achieved, and in my view, the past is the past, and nothing will be gained by going over and over it. And I know that it would certainly upset Anna if she ever got to hear about it,’ he added.

  A short silence fell, during which Lexi still found it hard to believe that this evening wasn’t part of some terrible dream. Mr McCann might dismiss it as a regrettable incident, but it felt a lot more to her than that. And he hadn’t even mentioned the gun, or Lexi’s part in the proceedings! Which did seem a bit rich because whatever he said, those two evil men had been much more terrifying than Mr McCann was making out.

  Lexi stood up and gripped the edge of the table for support. He was asking her, no, telling her to forget this whole thing, but was it possible that she could? Was it possible that she could get on with the rest of her life as if none of it had happened? She might even have witnessed a murder! Wasn’t she going to find it impossible to keep quiet about it and not even tell her mother? And what about Johnny? She would simply have to tell Johnny about it. Well, maybe one day she would, after Mr McCann was dead and when she and Johnny were together properly.

  Reynard seemed to be reading her thoughts. ‘I would like your word that none of this will pass your lips, Miss Martin. This unpleasant business is never likely to happen again so there is no point in dwelling on it.’

  He moved across and looked down at her gravely. ‘So – I hope I have your word,’ he said.

  Lexi met his gaze. ‘You have my word, Mr McCann,’ she said.

  ‘Good.’ His expression cleared. ‘And by the way, I meant to tell you before, but I have decided to double your wage for collecting the rents. You have proved to be more than adequate for the task.’

  The evening was really going mad, Lexi thought helplessly. Had he just said that he was going to double her money?

  ‘Well, thank you, Mr McCann,’ she murmured.

  Suddenly, Lexi was desperate to go home, and as she turned to leave he spoke again.

  ‘Oh – one other thing. Would you be good enough to return my gun to its rightful place?’ he said.

  And without another word, Lexi picked up the gun and left the room.

  After she had gone, Reynard leaned against the table for a few moments. Then he went over to the book case where he kept a bottle of brandy. Taking a large tumbler from the shelf, he filled it to the top, brought it to his lips, and emptied it in one go.

  At just after 11 o’clock, Anna paid the taxi fare, then walked quickly up the drive and around to the back door. It had been such an enjoyable evening, and later, she and her friend had linge
red over their sherry at the hotel – which had added the finishing touch.

  In the kitchen, she stopped for a second and looked around her cautiously. Then her expression cleared. Thank goodness there was not a whiff of that strange atmosphere which had worried her all day. She went over to fill the kettle to make herself a cup of tea, pausing for a second. That poor grey lady, that restless spectre who seemed to need to waft through her house occasionally … Anna felt sure that today had been one of those days. As soon as she’d woken that morning she’d felt it in her bones that before the end of the day Grey Gables would have a visitation.

  Still, never mind, Anna thought as she filled her teapot. All seemed to be back to normal once again.

  Christmas 1914 did not bring with it the peace which many had hoped it would. War was now fully operational on the Western Front and already the dreaded telegrams had begun to arrive with news of men falling in battle.

  Upstairs in his study, Reynard couldn’t help thinking back to his own war which, hateful though it had been, had lasted for just a few months in the end. He had been one of the lucky ones to get out of it alive, but the black memories of his brush with death still haunted him and his mouth twisted angrily at the futility of war, any war. But maybe … just maybe … this present one might not come to much, even if all the signs were proving otherwise – which included not only news from the front, but the panic-buying of food by some who were stocking up on basic items and tinned goods. It was all deeply worrying.

  Still, whatever happened, Reynard was convinced he had done the right thing in distracting Alfred from all thoughts of joining up.

  Reynard closed the papers he’d been looking at and stood up. That trip to Barra seemed to have interested his elder son even more than Reynard could have hoped – demonstrated by the unusually favourable report just issued by the college. Alfred appeared to have done very well in the end of term exams, so perhaps, at last, he was beginning to take some responsibility for his future, Reynard thought. It was about time.

 

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