The Ghost of Christmas Past

by Rhys Bowen

  “I don’t remember,” Charlotte said. “I don’t remember much except the rooms where we lived. It was really cold in Canada. I remember that.”

  “Canada!” Winnie exclaimed. Her eyes lit up. “Did you hear that, Cedric? Canada. I knew she must have been taken out of the country or we would have found her.”

  “You don’t remember who took you away from here?” Cedric asked, standing, arms folded, and staring down at her. He was frowning.

  The girl shook her head. “I remember it was something bad. I think they put something over my face. A man put something over my face and I couldn’t breathe. And when I woke up I was far, far away.”

  “In Canada?” Cedric asked.

  “I don’t know. In a room. We didn’t go out. I only knew rooms.”

  Of course they would have kept her hidden, I thought. And of course a three-year-old would have no way of knowing where she was.

  “And who was with you in the room?” Cedric asked.

  “My mother. She said she was my mother.”

  “Did she have a name?”

  “I don’t know. Yes, but I called her Mother. I’m sorry,” Charlotte said. She put a hand up to her face. “But the room is spinning around. I don’t think…” And then she fainted.

  Winnie turned to Cedric, her eyes blazing as she dropped to the floor beside her daughter. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve terrified her. My own darling daughter has come back and you don’t want to admit it. Well, I’m having her taken straight to bed tonight and I’ll feed her the soup from lunch and if you want to ask her more questions, then you’ll have to wait until the morning.”

  Cedric was looking absolutely white and stunned. He put his hands on Winnie’s shoulders. “Winnie, I know it seems like a miracle, but we can’t be sure. I don’t recognize her.”

  “Of course she’s changed since she was three,” Winnie snapped, cradling the girl’s head. “But she knew about your mustache. She knew we’d made the gallery and taken away the delft tiles. She has to be Charlotte. She has to be.”

  “We’ll talk about it more in the morning,” Cedric said. He turned to Aunt Florence. “Aunt Florence, can you arrange for a bed to be made up for Charlotte? Her old room? Maybe that would help bring back memories.”

  “We are using the bed from her old room for young Bridie at the moment,” Aunt Florence said. “Why don’t we put her in one of the guest bedrooms tonight? The poor thing will no doubt sleep until morning wherever she is.”

  “No, I want her in my room, with me,” Winnie said emphatically. “Have James and Frederick carry her up to my room, and we’ll bring her up some soup and milk and brandy.”

  “No, Winnie.” Cedric turned to Aunt Florence. “The guest room is a better idea. We don’t want Winnie becoming too attached to her too soon. Just in case.”

  “You are cruel!” Winnie said as the girl stirred and tried to sit up.

  “No, my dear, I’m cautious. Arriving home on Christmas Eve, alone in the snow. We need to find out a good deal more before I’ll accept her as my long-lost daughter. By all means feed her her soup, but we will let her sleep alone tonight. I insist.”

  “All right, Cedric,” Winnie said in a small voice. “If that’s what you want.”

  “I’m doing this for you, Winnie,” he said. “For your good.”

  “I’ll go and make sure her bed is nice and warm for her,” Winnie said.

  Aunt Florence put a hand on Winnie’s shoulder. “You stay where you are. You look as if you could do with a glass of brandy yourself. You’re as white as a sheet. Pour her one, Cedric. I’ll take care of Charlotte for you.”

  She bustled out of the room and in no time at all had returned with two footmen. As they tried to lift her, Charlotte woke up and cried out in alarm at seeing strange men’s faces.

  “It’s all right, my dear,” Aunt Florence said calmly. “These men are just going to carry you up to your room. And I’m going to stay with you and feed you some good soup. And then you can sleep.”

  “Thank you,” the girl replied weakly and allowed herself to be carried out.

  Winnie sat on the sofa as if turned to stone. Cedric went over to the side table and poured his wife a brandy. Then he looked at us. “I think we all need one, don’t you?” he asked. “We’ve all had a shock.”

  “You don’t believe she is your daughter, Cedric?” Mr. Carmichael asked.

  “She’s not how I remember her,” Cedric said. “She was darker, wasn’t she?”

  “Her hair was a little darker, but those things change with time, don’t they?” Winnie said. “And her eyes—there’s something about her eyes that I recognized immediately.”

  I had been watching the scene unfold rather like an intriguing play. And I had noticed the immediate resemblance between Charlotte and Winnie. Surely Cedric could see it too, or perhaps he was afraid to see it, because he didn’t want to raise false hopes. He was busy pouring glasses of brandy and handing them to each of us.

  “So the child came home,” Great-Aunt Clara said as she accepted her glass of brandy. “Well, that’s a turn-up for the books, isn’t it? I bet she has a story to tell. I wonder how much she remembers, or what memories will come back to her now that she is among us again?”

  “I don’t think one remembers much from when one is three,” I said.

  “But an event like a kidnapping would be imprinted upon the memory, surely?” Daniel’s mother said. “And if the memory is jolted by returning to the scene, then I wouldn’t be surprised if she couldn’t tell us exactly what happened.”

  “And her kidnappers would be brought to justice,” Daniel said with satisfaction.

  I was watching Winnie’s face. There was something in it that I couldn’t quite read. Was it fear?

  Cedric handed me my glass of brandy. “No more carol singing tonight, I think,” he said. “And we’d better blow out the candles on the tree in case there is a fire. So perhaps it’s early to bed and a good night’s sleep so that we can all enjoy Christmas day.”

  We sat around the fire, sipping our drinks, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts. I was thinking how lovely it was for Winnie and Cedric that their daughter had returned. Was this case now solved? Presumably in the morning we’d find out the truth about who kidnapped her and why. I supposed I could understand Cedric’s reluctance to admit his child had come home. It did seem almost too good to be true, and of course I was also dying to find out where she had been and how she had now been allowed to return to her family.

  * * *

  Daniel and I stayed awake for a long time, waiting until Bridie was asleep before we put stockings with gifts at the bottoms of the children’s beds. I smiled, picturing Liam’s face when he saw his stocking. And Bridie too. She might be almost thirteen but she was still a little girl at heart.

  “Well, that was a rum do, wasn’t it?” Daniel said to me as I snuggled up to him in bed. “Did you ever imagine in a million years that the girl would come home?”

  “No, I don’t think I did,” I confessed. “I had given her up for dead, if you want to know.”

  “Me too.”

  “In all your years with the police did you ever come across a kidnapper who released his victim years later?”

  “I can’t say that I did. Of course she might not have been released. She might have found a chance to escape and taken it.”

  “That would indeed be a bold move, given that she was only three when she was taken and knew no other life,” I said.

  “No point in speculating about it now,” Daniel said. “I’ve no doubt we’ll find out more in the morning.” He leaned across and kissed my forehead. “Merry Christmas in advance.”

  “And you too, my darling,” I said. “We are so lucky that we have each other and Liam. Such a blessing.”

  I was just drifting off to sleep when a terrible thought struck me. Cedric’s insistence that the girl did not sleep in a room with her mother. His profound desire to protect Winnie. And Winnie�
��s mental instability … And the cook had said that Winnie was the only one who left the party that night. Could it be that he was afraid Winnie might try to harm her daughter again?

  Nineteen

  I was woken by a cry or a shout. I sat up, heart beating fast, only to see that Liam was awake and had discovered his stocking. Or rather he had discovered the wooden horse and cart that was too big to fit into his stocking and was now pushing it over the carpet, saying, “Horsey. Giddy-up.”

  I woke Daniel and we sat on the floor beside him while he explored the contents of the stocking. He had to be refrained from eating the sugar pig before breakfast and from throwing the ball across the room, but then contented himself with giving them both rides in his new cart. I could see that the toy would be a huge success.

  While Daniel was watching him play I handed him his gift. “Merry Christmas,” I said. His eyes grew large, like a small child’s when he saw what the gift was. “A camera? Molly—do we have the money for a camera?”

  “I was frugal with the housekeeping,” I said. “I didn’t spend much money when we looked after your mother.”

  “I’ve always wanted one.” He turned it over in his hand. “Does it have a roll of film with it?”

  “It does. Look inside the box.”

  “Then I can take pictures today. I can immortalize our Christmas and our time with Bridie and Liam at two. Oh, this is a wonderful idea.”

  He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me.

  “I have something for you,” he said. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid.” He handed me a big package. I opened it and found a lovely dark blue velvet fabric.

  “I know you lost all your things in the fire and then had to leave everything in San Francisco after the earthquake,” he said. “So I thought you should have a least one expensive dress. My mother knows a good dressmaker and she has promised to take you to her.”

  “Daniel, that is so thoughtful.” I returned the kiss.

  Liam’s rolling the cart over the bare boards around the carpet had woken Bridie. We watched her as she picked up her own Christmas stocking and tipped out the orange in silver foil, a new hair ribbon, a skein of knitting yarn, a little bag of chocolates, and then the red leather box. She opened it and took out the locket, staring at it in wonder.

  “Open it,” I said gently.

  She did so. “Liam’s hair,” she said. “And your pictures. It’s wonderful. I won’t ever take it off. All my life I’ll remember…” And she burst into tears.

  We sat together on her bed, hugging each other. I think I cried too.

  Then I dressed Liam in his smartest sailor suit and we put on our finest array before going down to breakfast. There was no sign of Charlotte, but Daniel’s mother and Ivy were there.

  “Look. I have a present!” Ivy sprang up when we came in. “I have a new dress. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a new dress made just for me. It was always hand-me-downs before.” Her dark eyes were glowing and her little pixie face looked quite different when she smiled. The dress was a simple one, as befits someone who is a servant or companion, in a soft cambric, light blue with a navy blue bow at her neck. She looked absurdly young in it. Daniel’s mother was smiling at her, as if she enjoyed the giving as much as Ivy did the receiving.

  I went over and kissed her. “Merry Christmas, Mother Sullivan,” I said.

  “And you too, my dear.” She reached up and patted my cheek.

  As Daniel bent to embrace his mother, Bridie sidled over to me. “I wish I had a present for Ivy,” she whispered to me.

  “We have one for her. I bought it yesterday. We’ll give it to her when gifts are exchanged later,” I whispered back. “She’ll love it.”

  Bridie gave me a conspiratorial smile. Then her face clouded again. “But we’ve nothing for Charlotte, have we? I didn’t know she’d been lost all these years. I knew there was a nursery so I thought there might have been a child once, but I thought she had died. And now it’s wonderful that she’s come home, but there are no gifts for her.”

  I had been so wrapped up in watching my family unwrap their gifts that I had momentarily forgotten about last night’s drama and the return of the lost child. It did seem too miraculous to be true, but I hoped it was, for Winnie’s sake. I could tell it was going to take a lot more to convince Cedric.

  “No, I’m afraid we have nothing for Charlotte,” I said. “But I’m sure her parents will quickly make it up to her. In fact I’m sure her mother will spoil her.”

  Bridie nodded. “They did before she went away. Have you seen the nursery yet? There is a whole shelf of dolls. A whole shelf. And a doll’s buggy and a cradle, and the rocking horse.”

  “I expect she’ll have a good time reconnecting with them,” I said. I looked up as Cedric came in. He was wearing a bright-red silk vest under his jacket, embroidered with gold thread—the new one we had collected at the station, I surmised.

  “Well, here you all are,” he said. “Winnie is taking her breakfast upstairs with the young lady, but I wanted to come down and wish my guests a merry Christmas.”

  “And a particularly merry one for you, I should imagine,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “Your prayers finally answered.”

  “If she really is our daughter,” he said. “I am not convinced myself.”

  “But she resembles your wife,” I said. “And she knew about your mustache and the tiles on the old fireplace.”

  “Anyone could have told her those things.”

  “For what purpose?” I asked.

  Cedric frowned. “We are a wealthy family. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that someone should scheme to put the girl in our care—a girl who would one day inherit everything.”

  He turned to Daniel. “Captain Sullivan, you are a detective. How would one go about verifying that she is our daughter? Or who she really is?”

  “It wouldn’t be easy,” Daniel said. “The key would be the woman who looked after her all these years. Who called herself her mother. If we knew her identity, we could easily check if she had any criminal connections. We could visit old addresses and get reports on who visited her there.”

  “Would you do that for me?” Cedric asked. “I will pay you well for your time. But I have to know the truth. It’s most important to me.”

  “Even if the truth is painful?” Daniel said. “You saw your wife’s face last night. She wants to believe her daughter has come home to her. Do you want to take her away again?”

  “Rather than admit a little cuckoo into our nest,” he said. Then he forced himself into a brighter demeanor. “I hope the cook has laid on a splendid breakfast,” he said. “But don’t eat too much. There will be a feast later.”

  We went over to the sideboard and helped ourselves to eggs and bacon and apple fritters with hot maple syrup. Indeed a splendid breakfast.

  “Has Santa Claus already been?” Cedric asked Liam, who was eating heartily again.

  “He has,” I said for my son. “There were stockings beside the beds this morning.”

  “He may well have left more things under the tree,” Cedric said. “We’ll have to see after breakfast. We have to wait for the others to come down. I haven’t seen either aunt or my father-in-law this morning. Of course they have probably already eaten theirs hours ago. These New Englanders are early risers, even on Christmas Day. Up with the dawn to chop wood and milk the cows, uh?” And he laughed.

  At that moment Mr. Carmichael came in. “It’s a fine morning,” he said. “I’ve already been out for a walk.” And he wondered why we all laughed this time.

  We finished our breakfast and I carried Liam through to the gallery, which was warm and inviting with a big fire blazing in the hearth. I set him down, and immediately he remembered the horse and cart. “Horsey?” he said, heading straight for the stairs.

  “You stay here with Bridie. I’ll go and get horsey,” I said. I turned to Bridie. “Watch that he doesn’t try to follow me up the stairs.”

  I went up a
nd retrieved the horse and cart, as well as the two snow globes and the gifts for Daniel’s mother, Aunt Florence, and the Van Aikens. I was carrying down this tottering pile when Winnie rushed up to me. “Let me help, Molly,” she said. “That looks quite precarious and we don’t want you to trip on the stairs on such a momentous day.”

  I stood while she relieved me of some of the packages. Her newly arrived daughter, Charlotte, stood behind her, smiling shyly at me.

  “Won’t this be fun,” Winnie said, turning to beam at her daughter. “I only wish you’d arrived a few days earlier, Charlotte, darling. Then I could have bought a big pile of gifts for you. As it is I can only give you one or two things that were special to me, but after the holiday we’ll have such a splendid time. We’ll go into New York and order you lots of new outfits. You’ll be the smartest young lady in Westchester County. And we’ll have to think about schooling.… A tutor at the house or a school nearby? I’m not sending you away to a seminary like I was. Not so soon after I have you back again.”

  Her face was radiant and I was ashamed of my suspicion last night that somehow Winnie was not to be trusted with her daughter. I found myself wishing that Cedric would leave things alone. How could he not see that Charlotte was his daughter? To me she looked just like a younger version of Winnie, even down to the way she smiled. But if Daniel could prove that the girl was not their daughter, how would fragile Winnie handle a loss for a second time?

  I took the packages from Winnie and placed them under the tree in the foyer, where there was already an impressive pile of packages, then I went through to the gallery and handed Liam his horse and cart. A bowl of nuts lay on one of the side tables and I gave him some to transport around. Aunt Florence had now joined us, sitting beside Daniel’s mother. Conversation stopped as Winnie and Charlotte entered.

  “Well, here they are,” Aunt Florence said. “And don’t you look well, my dear. A good night’s sleep works wonders, doesn’t it? And we’ll soon have you fattened up.”

  As I examined Charlotte I decided that she didn’t need to be fattened up. She was a healthy-looking girl, already with the hint of a woman’s breasts curving the dress that she wore. I glanced across at Bridie and Ivy. Charlotte was about the same age as them, but she had blossomed into womanhood whereas they were both still little girls.