by Penny Jordan
His eyes dropped slowly. ‘How very kind of them—and you.’ Then quite unexpectedly he leaned forward. She looked into his dark eyes and felt the whisper of his lips on her cheek.
Tilly could find no words to reply. He was looking into her eyes, and his fingers were wrapped around hers.
‘I—I must go.’ She quickly dragged them away.
‘Won’t you wait a while?’
She mumbled about having to go to Hailing House to help with the Christmas dinners. Then she fled. Her heart was beating fast when she got downstairs.
He had kissed her cheek!
She put her hand up to the place where his lips had touched. She knew it was only a friendly gesture and meant nothing to him. But she would never forget it.
Tilly walked to the hearth and sat down. The fire was out, a dusty mess in the grate. It needed to be built up again, to be coaxed into life. A tear brimmed on her lash and slid down her cheek. Followed by another. She let them all out then, like little wet prisoners of love that had been trapped behind a mask of pretence for too long.
The sound of carollers in the street woke Tilly up. She’d thought she had been dreaming the voices, but they were real. She had fallen asleep on the chair! Panic filled her as she realised hours had passed. The mantel clock said half past five. For the first year since James had died she had missed going to Hailing House.
Getting up, she lit the oil lamp. Light radiated around the dark room—a soft light that flickered and burst into life as she turned up the wick.
The voices outside grew nearer. ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing!’ Finding her purse, she took out a penny. Then, brushing her salty cheeks with the tips of her fingers, she quickly patted down her hair.
A cold breeze blew in as she opened the door.
Tilly frowned at the faces in front of her, muffled with scarves and hats.
‘We wish you a Merry Christmas…we wish you a merry Christmas…’
She gasped as she recognised the bright red ringlets springing out from the little girl’s hat. ‘Cessie!’
Suddenly she was being twirled around the airey floor as Cessie hugged her close and laughed aloud.
She caught Cessie’s shoulders. ‘I can’t believe it! Is it really you?’
Molly and Frank stepped forward. Tilly flung her arms around them. ‘Oh, Frank—Molly!’
‘We’re sorry we run away,’ Molly said, squeezing her so tight that Tilly had to prise her away.
‘But why did you?’
‘We don’t want to be split up.’
‘But you can’t live on the streets.’
Frank nodded. ‘It was my fault, Miss Tilly. It was a daft thing to do, but I couldn’t fink of anything else.’
‘Where’ve you been all this time? How have you lived?’ She looked at their clothes and they seemed clean enough. Their faces weren’t dirty, but they all looked hungry.
‘A lady at the Sally Army took us in. She gave us a couple of beds, as it was near to Christmas, but we didn’t know what we was going to do after. Then all of a sudden the doctor found us.’
Tilly gasped. ‘The doctor?’
‘Yer—he come this afternoon. Said he’d been out lookin’ for us every day since we’d gone and finally found us.’
‘But he didn’t tell me!’ Tilly wailed.
‘I didn’t want to raise your hopes.’
She spun round. Harry stood in the doorway, his tall figure filling the space. The children pulled him in.
‘Oh, Harry—I can’t believe it.’ Her family was back! She didn’t know how long for, but tonight it didn’t matter. They were all together again for Christmas, and that was what counted.
‘It’s gonna be a happy Christmas, ain’t it, Miss Tilly?’ Cessie cried as Tilly hugged her close.
‘Yes, Cessie it is.’
‘I’ll ’elp you with the dinner, Miss Tilly,’ Molly said shyly.
Harry smiled as he put his arm around Frank’s shoulders. Tilly was too happy to speak. She didn’t want it ever to end.
The airey was warm and glowing. The children had pinned up their stockings by the hearth. Ebenezer Scrooge had been thoroughly booed at, and Tilly had read aloud the story of a stable, a bright shining star and the birth of a special baby boy. All Tilly’s dreams had been fulfilled. Now the airey was still; the young people fast asleep. Tilly was sitting where she had dreamed she would sit on Christmas Eve and had never believed her dream would come true—beside Harry.
The fire burned brightly, reflecting on his handsome face. A golden light sparkled and danced across the walls.
‘Tilly, let me ask you something.’ The doctor took hold of her hand and led her to the door. He opened it, and she shivered as they ascended the airey steps. The street was empty, the night was clear, light burned in the houses. There was no snow, but to Tilly it looked like a picture postcard.
‘What do you see?’
She replied without hesitation. ‘All that I love, Harry.’ It was her island—a special place where the wind from the river swept salt and tar into every breath and where a ship’s hooter could be heard at any time of day or night, where men lost their lives and found them again by the grace of the sea.
‘And I have grown to love it too. I’m happy here.’
‘You’ll be happier at your country practice.’
‘I think not.’
‘You mustn’t say that.’ She looked up at him, the stars above seeming to reflect in his eyes. ‘Because you’re leaving. You’re going away and I’ll probably never see you again.’
He reached out to take her shoulders and turned her gently to face him. His lips came down over hers and for Tilly the world seemed contained in his kiss—all the blue sky and green earth, the deep seas and changing seasons, the shift of the tide, a bird’s last evening song and a baby’s first breath. It was all hers. The sweetest, most beautiful moment she had ever known.
‘Tilly, I’ve been blind and very foolish. I can’t leave—won’t leave—I’ve found happiness here, and great peace.’
She woke up then, her eyes wide. ‘But you…and Miss Darraway! You love Rosalind!’ she gasped.
‘If ever I thought I did I was quite mistaken. Rosalind and I would never have found happiness together. We both know that now.’
‘But everything’s been arranged. Your engagement, and your new practice, and the new doctor coming here—’
‘I am the new doctor.’ He laughed, his voice filled with joy. ‘And before me stands my future wife—if she will only say yes.’ He lifted her chin and stared deeply into her eyes. ‘Tap House is waiting for us, Tilly. Fill it with your presence—and your orphans too.’
‘You mean—you mean Frank and Molly and Cessie?’
‘I mean them, dear heart. Of course I do! We’ll adopt them and make them our own.’
‘Stop—please stop!’ Tilly put up her hand. ‘Oh, Harry, I must be dreaming!’
He laughed again, the rich, deep sound echoing down the empty street. ‘If you’re dreaming, my darling, then I’m dreaming too. Say yes, Tilly. Say yes.’
The bells began to ring out over London from every church and tall steeple.
It was Christmas Day!
‘Yes,’ Tilly breathed as he held her close, shielding her from the wintry wind. Then he kissed her once more under a Christmas moon that cast its silver light to earth and its magic into people’s hearts, changing the darkest of nights into a bright new day.
Eighteen months later
A NOTICE placed in the Island Times, June 1930:
It is with great pleasure that Dr and Mrs Harry Fleet announce the christening of their son, William Harry, first brother to their wards, Frank, Molly and Cessie. The service will take place at St Nicholas Church, Isle of Dogs, on Sunday June 22nd at two in the afternoon. The family would like to invite all those who know them to join the celebration. A running buffet will be held afterwards at the surgery of Dr Fleet and his retired senior partner, Dr William Tapper, godfather to the infant
. Dr and Mrs Fleet look forward to seeing one and all on the day, and to sharing the happy occasion with them.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0739-8
IT HAPPENED AT CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2007 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
BRIDE AT BELLFIELD MILL
Copyright © 2007 by Penny Jordan
A FAMILY FOR HAWTHORN FARM
Copyright © 2007 by Helen Brooks
TILLY OF TAP HOUSE
Copyright © 2007 by Carol Wood
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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