Christmas Tales of Terror by Chris Priestley

Author:Chris Priestley [Priestley, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781408838402
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2012-10-05T07:00:00+00:00

When they finally left the house, Aubrey was somewhat dismayed to see that his father seemed to be heading towards The Grange, as originally planned, rather than back to the vicarage.

‘Father?’ said Aubrey. ‘I thought you –’

‘A white lie,’ said Reverend Baxter with a wink.

Aubrey sighed. He’d been so relieved when he’d thought they were to forgo their annual visit to The Grange, he’d been willing to forget the issue of the price his father had paid. But not now.

‘Ten shillings, Father?’ said Aubrey. ‘Really?’

‘Well, now,’ said his father. ‘It is a very good drawing. And I think they might use that extra cash.’

Extra cash? thought Aubrey. Did they have extra cash to throw about? How could his father waste money on that boy’s drawing when he’d insisted that they must have the most frugal Christmas possible? He wished he had stayed at school.

‘Besides,’ continued his father, ‘I intend to confront the Major about the punishment he dished out to poor Arthur and show him this drawing. I think if he sees the kind of sensitive soul that’s housed in that undernourished little body, he might show some remorse about treating him so badly.’

Aubrey was not so sure. He had a master at school who liked to beat boys for any small infringement of the rules. That sort never felt guilt.

‘It’s fascinating, isn’t it?’ continued Aubrey’s father. ‘This drawing is the boy’s way of responding to that flogging. Do you see? The Major beats him for stealing firewood and the boy punishes him by drawing him as though frozen in his own house. Absolutely fascinating.’

Aubrey had to admit it was, but he still wasn’t sure it was worth ten shillings. The boy would have been pleased enough to receive a halfpenny piece. Aubrey was certain that he could have found much better ways of spending such a sum. The boy’s awful aunt would probably take it from him in any case.

Aubrey and his father arrived at The Grange and shortly thereafter found themselves standing in the very hall Arthur’s drawing depicted.

Aubrey saw that not only were the details of the tree and the decorations just as Arthur had shown, but so was the make-up of the guests, all of whom Arthur had portrayed in his drawing. It made it seem even more extraordinary.

Aubrey found himself more unsettled than amazed. Despite the fact that, as usual, an enormous fire burned in the gigantic stone hearth, Aubrey shivered at the memory of the drawing.

‘Bother,’ said Aubrey’s father, seeing the Major chatting to the Bishop. ‘I will have to bide my time. I need to get the Major on his own.’

Then Aubrey’s father shivered as well. And Aubrey noticed that those about him were rubbing their hands and complaining about the cold.

Aubrey looked around the room. Women were pulling on stoles and shawls to cover their bare arms and shoulders. Aubrey could see their breath rising, and he now realised he could see his own. People were making their excuses and leaving, muttering about the chill.

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