Christmas Madness by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

“Oh, Miss Winterwood! We weren’t expecting you.” Mrs. Jenkins said as she stood in the doorway to the children’s home, her puzzled expression showing her confusion. She hurriedly wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Come on in! Is everything all right?”

Edwina stepped inside and Mrs. Jenkins shut the door.

“Oh, yes, yes it is,” Edwina lied with a smile. “I was just hoping to talk with Charlie for a moment. He’d mentioned something when he was at my home, and I wanted to follow up with him. Would that be permissible?”

Mrs. Jenkins’ face fell. “Well, I’m afraid he’s been grounded to his room, due to his behavior.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it will only take a minute, I promise,” Edwina said, using her most winning smile. There were some benefits to being a Winterwood, and one of them was because her mother was the one raising funds for Mrs. Jenkin’s orphanage. It gave her certain leeway where otherwise her requests might be refused.

“Well, would you mind visiting him upstairs?” Mrs. Jenkins asked, looking uneasy. “He’s been a terrible influence on the other children, and I’d rather he stays isolated from them.”

“That would be just fine, and I apologize for any bother,” Edwina said. Mrs. Jenkins hurried up the staircase and Edwina followed. The hallway was lined with bedrooms, and all of the doors were propped open, except for one at the far end of the hall. Mrs. Jenkins walked to it, knocked once, and pushed it open without waiting for an answer.

“Charlie, Miss Winterwood is here to talk with you,” she said with a nervous smile. “Now, you mind your manners and be a good boy.” She turned to Edwina. “And if you need anything, I’ll be right downstairs in the kitchen,” she said, before hurrying out of the room, and shutting the door with a loud click behind her.

The room had two other small beds in it, and a washstand by the narrow window. There was a faded rag rug in the middle of the room, and a large bureau set close to the closet.

Charlie was sitting on his bed, his red hair combed into perfect order, his shoes worn but clean, and his expression thunderous with anger.

“What do you want?” he asked, putting his hands on the bed and swinging his feet a bit.

“Hello, Charlie,” Edwina began, trying to sound friendly. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Suit yourself,” came the belligerent reply. “It’s a free country.”

Edwina eased onto a bed opposite the young boy. “I hope you don’t mind me coming to visit you, but I wanted to ask you a question.”

He looked at her, surprised, his freckles stark against his pale face.

“What sorta question?”

“A question about those bells you saw at my house, when my Aunt Zinnia came to visit me.”

“Oh, those old things,” he said with a grunt. “What about ‘em?”

“Well, I can’t find them.”

He blinked at her. “So?”

“So, I’m wondering if you can help me. I think maybe my Aunt moved them somewhere and forgot.

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