On Christmas Day

by Rosie James

  He sat back down, almost breathless with anticipation. Of course, all the formal, official stuff had to happen first, but he could wait. He’d waited long enough. A few more weeks, months, wouldn’t matter. His lips broke into a wide grin as he stood up and clicked his heels, saluting himself gravely.

  ‘Happy New Year, Reynard McCann!’ he said softly.

  ‘I remember the weather was very much like this the day you were born,’ Cecilia said, looking across at Lexi, ‘but there was nothing dreary and unpleasant at what took place! Holding my first little daughter in my arms was the most wonderful thing I could ever have imagined – apart from those other times when your sister and brother arrived.’ Cecilia smiled happily down at her three. ‘What a lucky, lucky, woman I was – and still am!’

  They were all sitting around the table having a late breakfast. As the children would be going back to school tomorrow after the Christmas holidays, and Johnny returning to college, Cecilia had decided that she wasn’t going to do any mending today but just enjoy Lexi’s birthday with her family – and Anna and Johnny had been invited up to the cottage later to share the traditional birthday tea. Cecilia bit her lip. Despite the continuing bad news from France, and the sadness everywhere since Bert Bakewell’s death – to say nothing of Alfred no longer with them – life had to go on. Hadn’t she proved it, more than once, in her lifetime? And what did the Good Book say? That there was ‘a time to weep and a time to rejoice’ … well, they were going to rejoice because that’s what birthdays were about. Though poor Lexi had looked so withdrawn and sad since New Year’s day she’d hardly been able to smile at anything.

  ‘What are we going to have for tea?’ Joe enquired as he bit into his butter and marmalade sandwich. Now that the excitement of giving Lexi her presents was over it was time to talk about food.

  ‘Well,’ Cecilia said, ‘there’s jelly and custard and the cake of course – and Anna has given me a few things to help out. So don’t worry, Joe, you won’t go hungry, shortages or not.’

  Although it was bitterly cold, Lucky still needed to be taken for a walk and presently, with them all wrapped up warmly, Lexi and the children made their way down to Grey Gables. There was no question of them going across the fields because it was so wet everywhere, and anyway Lexi could not bear to go anywhere near the café. Not now. Her eyes filled with tears as they trudged along. Would someone else take Bert’s Place over, she wondered? There’d been no news at all since, and the only time Lexi had passed it, it looked so desolate and lonely that she’d hurried by, turning her face away. Poor, dear Mr Bakewell. She hoped he was happy somewhere, and had friends to talk to, friends who would listen.

  Presently they came to Grey Gables, the dog immediately pulling on the lead when she realized where they were going. Inside, Anna welcomed them as she always did – with tea and biscuits and something for the dog – and a big birthday hug for Lexi. And thinking how beautiful she looked – but then she always did. Simply because she’d been born that way.

  ‘Johnny’s upstairs with his father,’ Anna said, ‘but he told me tell you that he’ll definitely be at your birthday tea later.’ She winked. ‘He has a lovely present for you – he showed it to me.’

  Lexi smiled but said nothing. Her best-ever present was the ring hidden in her money box. Nothing could ever come close to that.

  ‘I’d give up all my presents in exchange for Mr Bakewell still being here,’ Lexi said. ‘And for Miss Lewis to still be in her sweet shop.’ Lexi glanced at Anna. ‘The new owners don’t know how to look after it.’

  Anna patted Lexi’s shoulder. ‘Some people don’t value what they have,’ she said, ‘or perhaps they’ve just been unlucky with those burglaries.’

  Much later, after Phoebe and Joe had gone to bed and Anna had returned to Grey Gables, Cecilia, Johnny and Lexi were sitting together. Cecilia glanced up from the small piece of embroidery she’d started on.

  ‘Have you written anymore articles, Johnny?’ she asked, and he shook his head.

  ‘No – I haven’t had the time, Mrs Martin,’ he said, ’but I’m not really hopeful because I realize that writing is not where my future lies. I shall always be needed here with my father, and that’s how it has to be.’

  Suddenly they heard Phoebe shout down the stairs.

  ‘Mama! Quick, Joe has been sick!’

  Lexi immediately stood up. ‘I’ll go, Mama,’ she said.

  After Lexi had gone there was silence for a few moments and Johnny wondered whether this could be his opportunity to speak his mind. It was all very well for Lexi to keep saying that they must hide their secret, but this couldn’t go on forever. He wouldn’t allow it to go on forever. He cleared his throat.

  ‘Mrs Martin, would you mind if I talked to you about something? Something very important to me?’

  Cecilia instinctively froze, and she put down her cloth. She’d been expecting this, dreading this. She looked across at Johnny and their eyes met in an open gaze.

  ‘Please feel free to talk to me about anything, Johnny,’ she said breezily.

  He went straight to the point. ‘You must realize how I feel about Lexi, Mrs Martin,’ he said. ‘In fact how we feel about each other. And have done for a very long time.’

  Cecilia smiled brightly. ‘Well, of course, Johnny! You have been good friends for a very long time – you are almost one of the family! There is nothing we need to add to that, surely?’

  He didn’t return her smile. ‘But there is, Mrs Martin,’ he said, ‘and you are right that we have been good … best … friends for years and years. But we want to be more than that now – because we love each other.’

  ‘Of course you do! We all love you! Phoebe and Joe idolize you!’

  Realizing that she was being disingenuous, Johnny went on firmly.

  ‘The difference between Lexi and me now, is that we not only love each other, we are in love. And one day I hope we will be married.’

  Cecilia bent over her sewing again as if what he’d just said was unimportant. ‘Oh well, we all have hopes, Johnny, and we don’t always see them come to anything. Lexi is very young – too young – to commit herself to anyone, and of course feelings change … feelings do change. At her age she cannot know her own mind about such an important issue.’

  Johnny narrowed his eyes briefly. ‘You and I, Mrs Martin, know exactly how Lexi’s mind works, and once she has made up her mind nothing will change it. She has told me that she loves me and that she wishes to be my wife one day.’

  ‘But she is still a child,’ Cecilia began, and he interrupted.

  ‘No, Mrs. Martin. From today, Lexi will be in her eighteenth year, and quite able to envisage her own future.’

  He wondered how much further he could go without being impolite. ‘Of course, it cannot be for a very long time, because I have two more years at college before I can earn my own living and support my wife.’ He swallowed. ‘But I thought it only right that you should know how things stand between Lexi and me. And I hope very much that we have your approval.’

  Of course Cecilia knew how things stood! Apart from all the obvious, undeniable signs, she’d seen the expression on her daughter’s face when she’d opened Johnny’s birthday present to her, an expensive, silver bracelet with a heart-shaped charm attached. She had seen the intimate glance which had passed between them.

  Afraid that he’d said too much, too soon, Johnny went over to the window, his hands in his pockets. Why was Mrs Martin so negative in her attitude, he asked himself? He knew that she liked him, had always liked him. Yet where Lexi was concerned there seemed to be a brick wall. And Lexi herself knew of it … that’s why she’d warned him about keeping their love a secret. He gritted his teeth, irritated. It was natural that two people like them should fall in love and want to be together. They knew each other so well, understood each other so well … so why all the fuss?

  Just then, Lexi came back, smiling. ‘Honestly, that child!’ she said. ‘He is such a little piggy
where food is concerned! But he’s all right now.’

  Cecilia rose from her chair. ‘I’ll pop up and see him,’ she said.

  After she’d left the room, Lexi went over to stand by Johnny, resting her head on his shoulder. She had sensed the atmosphere when she’d come in.

  ‘Is everything all right, Johnny?’ she asked, looking up at him.

  He put his arm around her waist and pulled her in tightly. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Lexi, but I just had to tell your mother how we feel about each other.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘She didn’t have a fit, or anything, but neither did she seem particularly pleased at the thought of me ever being her son-in-law.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Lexi sighed, ‘but don’t worry, Johnny. It’s not really about you, it’s about someone, anyone, moving in on her territory. I have known it for a very long time, but things are bound to change one day.’ She made a face. ‘We’ll just have to be patient, that’s all.’

  He tilted her chin up so that he could kiss her. ‘I hear what you say,’ he murmured, ‘but I won’t wait forever, Lexi. One day, you are going to be Mrs Johnny McCann. Take my word for it.’

  It was a Saturday at the end of March, and Lexi hurried home, pulling her coat more tightly around her. It was cold, and her performance dress didn’t offer much protection. She’d be glad to change into her warm jumper and skirt as soon as she got back to the cottage.

  She’d had another successful afternoon at the Pump Room, and they’d asked her to continue until the end of May, so at least she was earning something. And she had the rounds, of course. But Lexi was beginning to give up hope of ever finding real work again – she had been offered part-time employment as an assistant in one of the shops in the town, but the pay was very poor and in any case the hours conflicted with her Pump Room contract. She would have been quite happy to continue the morning shift at the laundry, but Cecilia was adamant that she wouldn’t allow it and got so cross every time it was mentioned Lexi had given up on that. But it was so hard not to feel despondent, because as the weeks and months were passing it was becoming painfully obvious that she was never going to earn real money. Why had she ever thought so? It was a stupid, childish whim – she might as well have said that one day she would become queen and live in Buckingham Palace …

  As she neared home, the sweet shop came into view and this made Lexi’s spirits droop further. If only she could turn the clock back, if only Miss Lewis – and Miss Lexi Martin – were still there taking care of everything …

  When Lexi arrived home, Cecilia was busy at her Singer, and Phoebe and Joe were sitting at the table playing Ludo. They immediately jumped down to hug Lexi.

  ‘Will you play with us, Lexi?’ they chorused, and Lexi smiled, hugging them back. ‘In a minute,’ she said. ‘When I’ve changed into warm clothes, and we’ve all had a cup of tea. I’m freezing!’

  Cecilia stopped treadling for a moment. ‘Oh Lexi – a gentleman from a solicitor’s office called while you were out … he’s left a letter for you. It’s there, on the cabinet.’

  Lexi frowned. ‘Did he say what it’s about?’

  ‘No. He wouldn’t tell me anything. Said it was private – but he was a very nice gentleman and said it was nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I should hope not,’ Lexi said, and thinking - why should they worry? They’d never been in any trouble with the law and were never in debt.

  The envelope was addressed to her, and it was from one of the town’s auspicious solicitors, its contents making Lexi’s frown deepen even further. It was headed:

  The estate of Mr Bertram Bakewell dec’d.

  “Dear Miss Martin,

  Would you please present yourself at the above office at your earliest convenience to discuss the above, which will be of some interest to you.

  Yours faithfully,

  Arthur Mayland”

  Lexi stared at the letter for a few moments, then read it out to Cecilia. ‘I don’t know what Mr Bakewell’s estate is, Mama … what does estate mean? And what has it got to do with me?’

  Cecilia got up and went over to look at the letter herself. ‘I don’t know, Lexi,’ she said. ‘It’s obviously something to do with the law, which we don’t understand.’ She paused in her thoughts. ‘Perhaps it’s to do with the bank … you used to take Mr Bakewell’s money there for him sometimes, didn’t you Perhaps they want to ask you about that.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On Monday morning, Lexi made her way into town admitting to feeling slightly nervous. She knew where the solicitor’s office was because she’d passed it many times, but she’d never thought she’d be ‘presenting’ herself there.

  Inside, she was immediately shown to M. Arthur Mayland’s office, which had his name, and “Senior Partner” on the door. He stood up.

  ‘Ah – Miss Martin. Do come in and sit down,’ he said.

  Lexi did as she was told, glad that she was wearing her best dress and jacket because this was territory she’d never set foot inside before, and was never likely to again. Everywhere smelt of quiet importance. Mr. Mayland’s desk was of polished oak, the high-backed chairs of similar wood, and expensively upholstered. The numerous pictures on the walls were large, and gold-framed.

  The solicitor looked across at Lexi. ‘Now then, it seems that you knew Mr Bakewell very well,’ he began, and Lexi nodded.

  ‘I did, sir. But he was very well known to many of us, and his death came as a tremendous shock.’ Lexi paused, swallowing hard. ‘I still cannot believe that he has gone … without even a chance to say goodbye, you know …’

  The man looked at Lexi intently. She was a beautiful young woman, her expression open and without pretence. ‘Yes, well, quite,’ he said kindly. ‘And you did some work for him now and then, I believe?’

  Lexi shrugged, briefly. ‘You could hardly call it that, sir,’ she said. ‘But I did often help him cash up – he had such bad arthritis in his fingers, you see, and it was easy enough for me because I am used to handling money.’ She paused before adding – ‘And I sometimes took the money to the bank for him, when he asked me to.’

  There was silence between them before the solicitor spoke again ‘And do you think that Mr Bakewell looked on you more as a … daughter … shall we say? Rather than as a casual friend who was happy to help him out sometimes?’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think so,’ Lexi said at once. ‘Such a thing was never mentioned. I mean, it was just that I used to go to the café whenever I could – well lots of us did - and sometimes I stayed to help him clear up when he was about to close.’ She smiled quickly. ‘I learned a great deal from Mr Bakewell about ordering supplies and how to run a café because he was so good at explaining things. And nothing gave him greater pleasure than talking about the life he had led at sea.’

  Lexi looked away, afraid that the solicitor would see tears forming in her eyes. ‘But perhaps he did think of all of us, his many younger friends, as his children,’ she suggested quickly. ‘Because he told us he had no family. But I don’t think he thought of me as anyone special,’ she added. ‘In fact, I’m sure he didn’t.’

  The solicitor leaned forward and shuffled a few papers in front of him. He looked across at Lexi and smiled.

  ‘Well, that is where you are wrong, Miss Martin,’ he said, ‘because Mr Bakewell apparently thought of you as someone very special indeed.’

  Lexi raised her eyes in genuine surprise. ‘Really?’ she said slowly. ‘Well, I can only think that’s because, as I said, whenever I could, I used to stay on a bit and talk to him.’ Lexi bit her lip thoughtfully. ‘You see, although he knew so many people, I think Mr Bakewell was very lonely at times, you know, when everyone had gone home, so I used to let him finish what he was telling me – and he did have wonderful tales to tell.’ She hesitated. ‘He was a lovely man,’ she added, ‘a clever, kind and lovely person.’

  ‘Well, he clearly thought similarly of you, Miss Martin,’ Arthur Mayland said, standing up, ‘because pro
bate has been granted and he has remembered you in his will.’

  Lexi looked up, wondering what that meant. She only had the vaguest understanding of what a will was, and she’d never heard the word ‘probate’ before.

  The solicitor cleared his throat. ‘The fact is, you are about to become a very rich young lady, Miss Martin,’ he said, ‘because Mr Bakewell has left you the entire contents of his estate.’

  What did that word ‘estate’ mean – and what did you do with an ‘estate’?

  ‘I really don’t understand,’ she began, and Arthur Mayland smiled.

  ‘Well let me explain,’ he said. ‘You are now the owner of the property known as ‘Bert’s Place’ and all its goods and chattels, together with the land on which it stands. As well as the large field behind it. So in due course, if you decide to sell – which I am sure you will – you will receive what can only be described as a large sum of money.’ The man looked at her seriously. ‘You are going to need professional advice, Miss Martin, on how to handle your newfound wealth, and I can let you have the name of a financial adviser, if you so wish. But for the moment, all you need to do is to go home and give your parents the good news.’ He smiled again. ‘There cannot be many young people in the town who have ever found themselves in your position.’

  Lexi stood up slowly, not able to take it all in. ‘I really do not know why Mr Bakewell has done this,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t make any sense.’

  The solicitor nodded, glancing down at his desk. ‘I can understand how you feel,’ he said, ‘but he did leave a rather charming letter with his papers here, in which he has written that he would like his young friend, Miss Lexi Martin, to have everything he owned, because not only had she helped him whenever he asked her to, she would always stop to listen. She never walked away. And he knew she would always take good care of his café.

  Deep in thought, Anna began to clear up the breakfast dishes. It was the 1st of April. April Fool’s Day. If the boys had been here she’d have been waiting for some trick or other to be played on her, or on each other.