Twelve Days

by Charles Lacey

Chapter 12

Tuesday 24th December

The weather continued cold. I'd had a note from Arthur suggesting we might meet and go skating on the Round Pond. So after breakfast we set off for Kensington Gardens, not without much instruction on Mother's part to 'be careful'. Tracy was not as experienced a skater as Arthur or I, but he learned quickly. We did circles, three-leaved clover, loops, serpentines. Tracy was still too thin and his flannel trousers flapped awkwardly about his legs, but I still admired his grace and fluid movement.

But I did notice that two or three times Tracy stopped and coughed a good deal, his hand to his chest. I hoped that he was not, as we used to say in those days, 'coming down with something'. But once we were back indoors at home, all seemed to be well.

It was my family's practice, on Christmas Eve, to have an early supper, then invite all the servants up to sit with us in the Drawing Room. I think Mamma and Papa would rather have gone down to the kitchen, but it was barely big enough for the servants, without the five – now six - of us adding to the crowd. We gave them their presents – and they were proper presents, too, not just cloth for them to make their uniforms from! – and drinks: Jane and Rose and Mrs Huntly had sherry, Sissons had whiskey and soda. Tracy joined me in having a glass of ginger beer.

It was all very pleasant. Papa made a short speech thanking them all for their work during the year, and Mr Sissons made a little speech back saying what kind employers they had and what a privilege it was to serve them. I looked at Tracy two or three times during this, and couldn't interpret his expression. There was a wry quality to it, but there was something else there that I couldn't put my finger on. But with only a few days of good, regular meals and sleeping in a warm bed he was beginning to put a little flesh on those fine bones, and he was undeniably good looking. And two or three times he caught my eye, and smiled. When he did this there was nothing difficult to understand: it was warm and merry, the smile of a friend and brother. untly

And then it was our bedtime, though of course I thought I was much too excited to sleep. But I nodded off in the end. I think possibly Papa's giving me a thimbleful of sherry wine may have helped!

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead