On Christmas Day

by Rosie James

  Emotionally spent, Cecilia waited before she went on quietly. ‘Mr McCann, what purpose would be served by my telling you that Lexi is your daughter? Why would I want to do that? We have always been a happy family, and my secret would not have been revealed to a living soul if it had not been that Johnny and Lexi wish to be married one day. And I do not have to point out that for half-siblings, that is not legal and not advisable.’ Cecilia put her head in her hands, then. ‘Somehow … somehow … we must prevent their relationship from going any further,’ she said bleakly.

  The weight of what she’d been concealing all these years became almost too much for Cecilia, and for an awful moment she thought she was going to faint. But somehow she managed to hold herself together – especially as she saw the change in Reynard McCann’s expression as he gazed down at her, because there was an unusual softness in his eyes which was completely unexpected.

  ‘Of course, what happened between us that night,’ Cecilia went on slowly, ‘had nothing to do with love … nothing at all. It had been only about need. Yours – and mine, Mr McCann.’ She paused, then – ‘And I believe you when you say that you hardly remember it because, well, that is the way with men,’ she added sadly.

  There was a long, long silence before either of them spoke again. Then –

  ‘Do you remember, all that time ago, asking me to keep your secret, Mr McCann?’ Cecilia said quietly, and without waiting for a reply, she went on – ‘Well, I have kept it, faithfully. And now I am begging you to keep mine, because if the truth ever came out it would mean the end of my life. Lexi adores my husband, her darling Dada, and she would never forgive me for betraying him … betraying her. She would never forgive me.’

  Now feeling desperate at the situation she was in, Cecilia repeated – ‘So, please Mr McCann, all this must stay between just the two of us. Forever. Please? Please!’

  Reynard moved across to lead her to a chair. Then he sat down opposite.

  ‘You have my word, Mrs Martin,’ he said quietly. ‘You have my word.’

  Cecilia closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She knew that he meant what he said.

  But she wasn’t prepared for what was to come next …

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Thankful to take the weight off her feet, Cecilia sank into the chair, put her head back and closed her eyes. The relief she felt at what had just taken place between her and Reynard McCann was nearly as painful as the stress she’d been suffering over such a long time. Now, all that remained, was to somehow separate her daughter from his son, and knowing them both so well, and loving them equally, it was going to be a terrible, hurtful task.

  They were sitting quite close, and pensive, like a married couple at the end of a long day, and Reynard spoke first.

  ‘I have always known you to be an honourable and trustworthy woman, Mrs Martin,’ he said, ‘and although what I am about to reveal will give you some pleasure, my own will be rather mixed because it will open old wounds …wounds which I had hoped had been buried forever.’ He sighed deeply. ‘And once again, I am asking for your complete discretion. This must be yet another secret between us, Mrs Martin.’

  All Cecilia could do was to stare at him as he spoke. What was coming now? How much more could she stand?

  Reynard waited before going on. ‘I am not practiced in the art of making friends, Mrs Martin,’ he said, ‘and indeed, over quite a long life, I only ever had one true friend, Roland, who I met at college. We were both on the same course and became close … very close.’

  Cecilia went on staring, unashamedly – what was this to do with her? To listen to him speaking personally like this was unheard of. Anna could tell you that! Yet tonight Reynard McCann wanted to talk, and although Cecilia would dearly like to go to bed and not to wake up until morning, she knew she was riveted to the scene taking place.

  ‘We both got married at the same time,’ Reynard went on slowly, ‘I to Sylvia, and Roland to Emma. We were both each other’s best men at the ceremonies.’ He sat back and stared up at the ceiling as if putting his thoughts in order. ‘It wasn’t that we had much of a social life in London,’ Reynard said, ‘and our main bond was the trade we were both in. We were always talking shop. The firm which employed Roland was far less prosperous than my father’s much larger outfit – where, quite naturally, I worked.’

  Cecilia could see the colour rise in Reynard’s cheeks as he spoke, and while she had no idea, yet, what was to come, it was plainly having a disturbing effect on him. He spoke again.

  ‘My father was a very demanding man, Mrs Martin, both as an employer and in a more personal sense, and my whole life was spent trying to please him.’ Reynard half-smiled. ‘I doubt that he thought I could ever reach his expectations, yet it was – and still is – my every waking thought to try and reach my father’s impossibly high standards.’

  Cecilia glanced at the small clock on the cabinet. She felt there was a lot more to come before this drama came to a close.

  Picking up another strand in his monologue, Reynard said suddenly – ‘Our wives got on very well together – especially after our babies were born. Alfred was two before they had their little boy … Roland and Emma were so thrilled to be parents because they were both orphans, brought up in the same Home. Our children were certainly a strong bond between us all,’ Reynard’s expression darkened. ‘My father warned me about getting too close, of course, because he had no time for that sort of thing – especially as Roland and I were, well, competitors in the trade. “Keep your distance,” my father would say, “there is no sentiment in business. The world is a savage place. Get too close, and it will all end in tears”’.

  Now Reynard leaned forward, tracing the lines of his forehead with his fingers before going on.

  ‘About that time, my father died. It was sudden, unexpected, but I was with him when he went, and I promised him that I would ensure that the firm continued to prosper, whatever it took. That I would always do my very best. I … I think he heard me.’ Reynard swallowed, obviously find this hard to talk about.

  ‘Not long afterwards, planning consent was given for a valuable housing development in the south of the city,’ Reynard went on. ‘My father had had his eye on that land for a long time, and Roland’s company and McCann Property Developments were in competition.’ Reynard paused. ‘To make sure our tender was successful, I took action which I now very much regret. I managed to bribe one of the architects – someone I knew well – to tip me the wink as to the other price. Then, of course, we came in just low enough to secure the job.’

  Cecilia clasped her hands together in distaste. Even after all this time, to hear of such dishonesty, of such devious and unacceptable practice, made her feel sick. But there was more to come and she didn’t have to wait long.

  ‘You will be wondering why I am telling you all this, Mrs Martin,’ Reynard said wearily,’ but the matter is of vital importance. Vital importance to you,’ he added.

  Cecilia sat forward nervously. ‘I … I don’t understand,’ she said, and he nodded.

  ‘Of course you don’t. Well, let me tell you the best – and the worst.’ he went on. ‘What I had no way of knowing at the time, was that Roland’s firm was on the verge of going under, and if they’d secured that job – which they deserved to have done – it would have turned them around, and saved them from bankruptcy.’

  Reynard turned slowly and looked into Cecilia’s eyes as if pleading for some measure of understanding, some forgiveness … even though it was hardly hers to give. ‘A few weeks later,’ he went on, ‘Roland became ill and died quite suddenly of pneumonia, and very soon after that, Emma, too, passed away.’ Reynard took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. ‘She was a small woman, rather frail, and the cause of her death was something of a mystery. The only diagnosis they came up with was that she had died of a broken heart,’ he added.

  Cecilia buried her face in her hands sorrowfully. This was the most dreadful tale she had heard in a long time
… and how sad for that young couple who’d had such a poor start in life. But people dying of a broken heart was not an unusual thing. She had heard of it before.

  When she thought she could control her tears, Cecilia looked up at Reynard. ‘And what happened to their darling baby?’ she whispered. ‘Don’t tell me he was sent to an orphanage … please, please don’t tell me that.’

  Reynard shook his head briefly. ‘No,’ he said. ‘To make absolutely sure that he would want for nothing for the rest of his life, I adopted their child straightaway.’

  There was a stillness in the room as if the very walls were listening. Then –

  ‘His name is Johnny, Mrs Martin,’ Reynard said quietly. ‘Johnny McCann, the young man who one day wishes to marry your daughter.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Christmas Day 1917

  The kitchen at Grey Gables, hung all over with the brightly coloured paper chains which Phoebe and Joe had made, was full of the festive smell of roasted chicken and stuffing, and the more heady fragrance from the cheroots which Reynard and Albert were smoking.

  With Cecilia by her side, Anna lifted the two Christmas puddings from the steamer and began carefully untying them from the strong cotton shrouds they’d been wrapped in for the last four hours. She glanced at Cecilia, smiling.

  ‘War or no war,’ Anna said happily, ‘I managed to get supplies of everything to make these – and I’m glad they look big enough for everyone to have a decent helping.’ She slipped an arm around Cecilia’s waist before adding – ‘I cannot think of another single thing to add to my … to my total happiness. To be here in this kitchen, my kitchen, with all the people I love best in the world here together … all safe … all happy … this has to be what Christmas is all about – don’t you agree, Cecilia?’

  Cecilia leaned in to return Anna’s hug. What more could she add, to what the housekeeper had just said? And glancing over at the crowded table where everyone was talking and laughing together, the present situation did seem something of a miracle. Especially with Albert home as well – her husband showed no sign at all of preparing to take off again. In fact, he hadn’t even mentioned it, being Lexi’s shadow at the café, serving, washing up, greeting customers, fetching and carrying. And as a surprise for Lexi, on that first momentous day in August he had somehow managed to find a flag pole to erect right there in the front of the little building, the union flag fluttering in the breeze welcoming everyone to Bert’s Place, its significance not lost on all who stopped by … yes, the war might not be over yet, but the brave, patriotic symbol was a cheering sight. One day, the world would be at peace again..

  The noise in the kitchen was tending to get a little bit out of hand, with Alfred teasing Phoebe and Joe, and the dog barking excitedly, and Cecilia raised her eyes at Anna.

  ‘I hope Mr McCann won’t get annoyed by all this fuss,’ and the housekeeper shook her head.

  ‘Just look at him,’ she murmured, ‘he is enjoying every minute. You see, Alfred is so well again, and being a very good boy. I don’t think a little noise is going to cause any upset.’ Anna smiled broadly. ‘And just look at Lexi and Johnny – they are so happy, aren’t they? Not a care in the world.’

  Cecilia nodded slowly. ‘Yes … they really do seem made for each other,’ she murmured.

  Lexi got up then, and came across to help take the pudding dishes over to the table. ‘That was such a lovely dinner, Anna,’ Lexi said, ‘I hope I’ve got enough room for this!’

  ‘Well if you haven’t, you will miss out on the sixpences I’ve hidden inside,’ Anna said, pouring brandy sauce into the cream boats. ‘But I don’t expect that will matter to Lexi Martin, now that she has more than enough money of her own! And when are you opening the café again, Lexi?’

  ‘On Thursday – the day after Boxing Day,’ Lexi said, ‘though we may not get many customers until next week.’

  ‘Don’t count on that!’ Anna said. ‘Do you remember being worried that because Mr Bakewell wasn’t there anymore, no one would turn up? Well – they did, in their droves, didn’t they?’

  Lexi nodded. ‘I am so, so lucky,’ she said quietly, ‘and the sweet shop is the success I knew it would be – with dear Miss Lewis there keeping an eye on everything. It feels that all the dreams I ever had have come true at the same time. The only thing outstanding is our big house. But that can wait. The money is in the bank, and Mr McCann is recommending an investment for me so that nothing will be lost.’ Lexi smiled. ‘Just look at him talking to Dada – they’ve been in earnest conversation about business for the last half an hour. I hope Dada is listening carefully and taking it all in!’

  Cecilia glanced across at her husband. He was still handsome, still the man she’d always loved. Perhaps … just perhaps … he might stay at home with them now and not go wandering off. And as for all those times he’d been away – what of those? Did he have secrets that were hidden away from her and which she would never know about? Was life a whole series of secrets, did everyone have things to hide from each other to keep the peace, to avoid confrontation, to smooth the path for someone you loved? Or just to save your own face?

  Cecilia did not have the answer to any of those questions. But all she did know was that, for the first time in many years, she was at peace with herself and with the rest of the world.

  Presently, without being asked, Albert reached into his pocket for his harmonica, and soon everyone began joining in with the traditional festive songs. And as Lexi’s clear voice reached above all the others, she glanced at Cecilia, smiling. This is where it had all begun, all that time ago, singing carols so that she could buy her mother a present. The time when she’d promised herself that by working hard, she could achieve whatever she wanted in life.

  Much later, after the others had gone home, Lexi and Johnny helped Anna finish the last of the clearing up, then began to make their own way back to the cottages. And snuggling into him, Lexi said –

  ‘Of all the presents I’ve been given, do you know my very best one, Johnny?’ And without waiting for an answer, she went on. ‘It’s that Mama has let me go at last … in a strange way, she has released me, as if she suddenly realizes that I can survive by myself, without her constant worry, care and attention.’

  Johnny nodded. ‘I’ve sensed that, too,’ he said, ‘and the fact that she has given her blessing for me actually being her son-in-law one day, has made me about the happiest man in the whole world.’

  They stopped walking for a moment, and Lexi lifted her face for him to kiss her. ‘And not only that,’ Johnny went on. ‘My father, too, seems like a … a … different person, somehow. Not only because Alfred is here and safe, but because Dad likes you, Lexi. He really does. And he respects you. Respect has to be earned, and you have earned his, I know that.’ Johnny smiled, suddenly remembering something. ‘By the way, one thing I forgot to mention – he told me the other night that he is waiting to see another McCann article in his magazine, and that if it means I have to go away sometimes – you know, in the future – he would be quite agreeable for me to have the time off.’

  Johnny pulled Lexi in closer before adding – ‘And if that does ever happen, will you come with me, Lexi Martin?’

  They kissed again, long and lovingly.

  ‘To the ends of the earth, Johnny McCann,’ Lexi said softly.

  It was very late before Anna finally finished clearing up, and now she admitted to feeling tired. Tired, but very, very happy. What a lovely day they’d had at Grey Gables, the best Christmas Day ever. But after all the fun and noise the place did seem quiet and rather lonely.

  As she went across to the stove to make her last pot of tea for the day, the kitchen door opened and Reynard stood there. Anna glanced over her shoulder – they had already bid each other goodnight …

  Reynard cleared his throat. ‘Um … Anna … I would like to thank you for all your efforts today,’ he said. ‘You must be very tired – but the meal, as always, was very good. Very good
indeed.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr McCann,’ Anna said. ‘I think everyone enjoyed themselves – and – thank you for allowing me to invite the Martins to join us.’

  He nodded, but stayed where he was and Anna said – ‘Has Alfred gone into town?’

  ‘No – Alfred has gone to bed,’ Reynard replied. ‘He gets tired very easily I’m afraid, since …’

  ‘Quite,’ Anna replied, wondering why her employer was just standing there, his hands by his side. ‘Mr McCann – I have made myself a light supper with a little cold chicken that was left,’ she said. ‘Would you like to join me?’

  As if he’d been waiting for the invitation, Reynard took his place opposite Anna at the kitchen table and watched as she poured out two cups of tea, before passing him the plate holding four small, neatly cut sandwiches.

  Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, they sat and ate together in the warm, dimly lit kitchen, neither saying very much at all.

  Well, how much more needed to be said …

  Copyright

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2017

  Copyright © Rosie James 2017

  Rosie James asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.