The Lonely Wife by Val Wood

Author:Val Wood [Wood, Valerie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473571426
Publisher: Transworld

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

‘Such a splendid start to Christmas,’ Emily Fawcett enthused. ‘The very best I’ve ever experienced.’

Beatrix agreed. The company of carollers had been invited inside to sing more carols and Christmas hymns, before shaking hands with everyone and trooping off to the kitchen to partake of the food and spiced wine that, unbeknown to Beatrix, Cook had prepared for their refreshment.

When the carollers had gone the family sat by the fire talking. The men drank brandy, Beatrix’s mother took a small glass with a splash of hot water and a sprinkling of sugar, and Beatrix sipped at a cup of chocolate.

Charles tossed back his second brandy. ‘I must apologize,’ he said, standing up, ‘but I’m exhausted – such a busy week – and I must go to bed.’ He bent to kiss Beatrix’s cheek. ‘Don’t get overtired, Beatrix,’ he murmured, and turned to the Fawcetts. ‘I’ll see you all in the morning. Please make yourselves at home.’ He looked round the sitting room at the Christmas greenery. ‘It looks splendid, Beatrix.’

She smiled, delighted that he had noticed. ‘Tomorrow we’ll dress the tree. I waited especially for you to help with it.’

He blinked as if he hadn’t expected this, but nodded.

‘Thomas, do you remember how excited we used to be when we were children?’ Beatrix smiled at her brother. ‘I couldn’t reach to put the angel on the topmost branch so you always had the task and I was so envious.’

Thomas laughed. ‘I remember trying to lift you once and we almost knocked the tree over.’ He gazed at her critically. ‘I wouldn’t like to try it now!’

Charles looked from one to the other, a fleeting expression of envy crossing his face, which he was quick to conceal. Clearly, Beatrix thought, he hadn’t experienced a Christmas such as ours with his sister Anne. Ours were never extravagant, but simple and full of contentment and fun until Thomas left home at sixteen to become a soldier. Christmas was never the same afterwards.

Her father and then her mother went upstairs after Charles; her father too was ready for bed after the journey, but Thomas sat on. ‘I’m dog-tired,’ he said, ‘but I know I won’t sleep yet. I’ve been travelling for several days. I might sleep late in the morning, though. Will that be all right, not anti-social?’

‘Of course it will,’ she said. ‘Just make yourself at home, as Charles said.’

‘I’ve forgotten how to do that, Bea,’ he murmured. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere that I could call home.’

He pondered for a moment or so, and then asked, ‘Does Charles spend much time here?’

‘Very little. He did warn me,’ she said softly. ‘He said he would be going to London a lot, because of his work at the bank, you know, but he spends more time in London than he does here.’

He picked up on the regret in her voice. ‘I don’t recall Pa working long hours at the bank, not once he’d reached senior level; and isn’t it a private bank that the Dawleys run?’

She nodded and sighed, but didn’t say more.

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