A Surprise for Christmas: and Other Seasonal Mysteries (British Library Crime Classics Book 85) by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf, azw3
Tags: Christmas stories, John Dickson Carr, Ernest Dudley, Ngaio Marsh, G. K. Chesterton, Christmas crime, festive crime
Publisher: British Library Publishing
Published: 2020-11-01T05:00:00+00:00

“Oh, Uncle Jimmy, you oughtn’t to have come in!” His niece Tessa looked up at him reproachfully from the floor.

Looking down, Jimmy saw the carpet covered with a mass of shiny objects—silver tinsel, coloured glass balls and miniature wax candles among them.

“What on earth are you up to?” he asked.

“It’s your surprise, and now you’ve spoilt it because it won’t be a surprise any more.”

“That’s all right,” said Jimmy kindly. “I’ll look the other way, and forget all about it in no time. I’m awfully good at forgetting.”

He turned to the sideboard and filled his glass. The warm spirit made him feel better again at once. He toasted himself in the looking-glass. “Here’s to forgetting!” he murmured.

He put the glass down, and went through into the kitchen. Anne was buttering slices of bread for tea.

“You oughtn’t to have gone in there,” she said.

“So Tessa told me. What is it all about?”

“The children wanted to give you a Christmas tree, to thank you for having them to stay. Isn’t it sweet of them? Tessa has been getting all the old decorations out of the attic.”

“Really? That’s jolly decent of them. It shows they appreciate things, doesn’t it? They’ve kept it very dark. Where did they hide the tree? I haven’t seen it anywhere.”

“I told Derek he could get it out of the garden. You know, that little spruce at the end of the vegetable patch. It’s just the right size. You don’t mind, do you?”

“D’you mean to say he’s cut down the little spruce—?” It was all Jimmy could do not to laugh outright. After what he had been thinking of that afternoon the coincidence seemed irresistibly comic.

“No, dear, not cut down. I knew you wouldn’t like that. I told him to dig it up very carefully by the roots, so that we could plant it again. That was all right, wasn’t it?”

Jimmy turned and walked out of the room. It was a difficult thing to manage, but he walked. Once out of the house door he ran as he had not run for years. But even as he ran, he knew that it was too late. Fifty yards away he could see the top of the little spruce tremble and sink over to one side, and as he arrived breathless at the spot he saw his nephew standing there, staring incredulously down into the hole where its roots had been.

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