I'll Be Home for Christmas by M. W. Arnold

Author:M. W. Arnold [Arnold, M W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 1940s; Family Saga; Historical; Saga; Saga Fiction; WW2; Cosy; Friendship; Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Mystery; Romance; War Story Fiction
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2021-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Can someone get the door?”

Doris looked over her shoulder, no easy task, as the kitchen table was crowded, now Christmas lunch was about to be eaten.

“I never heard anything,” she answered, prodding Walter in the ribs. He promptly shuffled his chair backward until he could get out.

“You’ve got him well trained,” Ruth remarked.

“Who wants to bet Celia won’t touch a bite?” Penny asked, accepting the bowl of sprouts from Mary. “When I took her plate up, she’d made a good start on the book already.”

“So long as she doesn’t tell me who did it,” Betty mumbled.

“Regretting lending her it?” Tom asked, slightly taking everyone by surprise, as he hadn’t said a word since Betty had tasked him with peeling and cutting the mountain of carrots.

Betty shook her head and then, after a moment’s thought, nodded. “Yes, well, no. A bit, I suppose.”

“So long as you’re certain!” Shirley laughed.

Walter came back into the kitchen. Wedging himself back into his place, he passed an envelope across to Betty.

Turning it over in her hands, she found no clues as to the sender, only her own name on the front.

“Before you ask,” Walter volunteered, “I looked outside, and there’s no one around. Whoever left that, their shoes must have rubber soles.”

Betty passed the carving knife and a fork to Tom. “Can you do the honors, Tom?” Then she got to her feet, and next thing everyone knew, they could hear her footsteps as she went upstairs.

****

After turning the strange letter over and over and holding it up to the light, Betty was no farther along in finding out who had sent it. Sighing, she worked a fingernail under the flap and slit it open. Inside, it contained a single sheet of pale blue paper, which she extracted and unfolded.

My dear sister,

This is your brother, Marcus—and now, I don’t know what to say!

Well, at least you now know of me, and from this letter, you’ll surmise that I did go back to my solicitors and they supplied me with your contact details. I hope you’ll forgive my taking the coward’s path, as I don’t think I could bear telephoning you, finally hearing your voice, only for you to put the phone down. At least this way, you have the option of reading this letter and then throwing it in the fire and not contacting me by return. If you do decide upon this course of action, I would at least request that you leave a message for me with Mr. Burrows informing him you have no wish to be in contact with me. If that is the case, I shall, reluctantly, respect your wishes.

In the scale of things, this is probably the strangest letter I’ve ever written, and with my—our—family…

Betty couldn’t stop the disparaging noise that came from her lips. So far as she was concerned, Mr. and Mrs. Palmer were no relations of hers!

…that’s saying something! No matter, hopefully it’ll lead to something better.

You should know my parents are aware I’ve tried to contact you, though I never told them about meeting up with Eleanor.

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