Aunt Dimity's Christmas by Nancy Atherton

Author:Nancy Atherton [Atherton, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9780140296303
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Why were the villagers so vicious?” I asked Aunt Dimity. The cottage was still and silent. Emma had left three hours ago, and Willis, Sr., was sleeping fitfully in the master bedroom. I’d bunked down on the rollaway bed in the nursery, but the memory of the villagers’ attack on Kit had made sleep impossible. I was upset, and I’d come downstairs to the study, hoping that Dimity would help untie the knots in my stomach. “I mean, I wasn’t wild about finding Kit in the drive, but I didn’t wish him any harm. It’s as if the villagers feel threatened by him.”

They do. Aunt Dimity’s handwriting spun across the page in a soothingly familiar rhythm. He reminds them of what they fear most.

“Crime?” I said.

Poverty. You must remember, Lori, that most of your neighbors lived through the Great Depression. They know what it is to have only one pair of shoes, to be cold without hope of warmth, to go to bed hungry. They resent Kit for reminding them of a time they’d rather forget.

My gaze drifted from the page as the sound returned, the howl of a bitter wind driving sleet and snow before it like a scourge. I shuddered, pressed my fingers to my forehead, as if to push the sound away, and forced myself to look back at the journal.

Apart from that, Dimity had written, your neighbors are getting on in years. It’s all too easy for the elderly to imagine themselves slipping through the cracks and sliding into an impoverished old age. They fear what they once were, and they fear what they might become.

“And fear makes them suspicious and cruel,” I said slowly.

You mustn’t judge them too harshly, Lori. They’re good people, at heart. Once they overcome their fears, they’ll do what’s right, you’ll see. Now, tell me what you’ve learned about Kit Smith since we last spoke.

I looked toward the hallway. “Sorry, Dimity,” I said, with forced nonchalance, “but I’ve got to go. William’s out of bed again. I may have to tie him down this time.”

Go, look after your father-in-law. But come back soon.

I closed the blue journal and stared into the middle distance, recalling the resentment I’d felt at Kit’s intrusion into my carefully planned holiday. I was the last person on earth qualified to judge my neighbors.

I had too much in common with them.

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