A Girl Can Dream. Anne Bennett

A Girl Can Dream - Anne  Bennett


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don’t need thanks,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m their father and I know it will be a tough time. Perhaps it will help if they have presents they will enjoy opening on Christmas morning.’

      Meg bought skipping ropes for the girls and more toy cars for Billy and a spinning top for each, which Joy encouraged her to buy. Seeing Meg hesitate, the coster wound up three spinning tops. ‘Just a tanner each,’ he said. ‘Watch this.’ And he set them off so they danced along the stall, twirling like dervishes so that the patterns on them melded into rings of vibrant colours. ‘On the table, on the chair, little devils go everywhere,’ he chanted. Meg, knowing the children would be delighted with them, parted with one and six.

      ‘What about your older brother?’ Joy asked as they turned away from the stall.

      ‘A model,’ Meg said decidedly, heading for the Hobbies shop. ‘He loves making up sailing ships. He has quite few but there are bound to be some he hasn’t got yet.’

      There were, of course, and then Meg picked up the Swiss army knife that she had seen Terry lusting over, a large bag of marbles for Billy, and a set of rattles and building blocks for Ruth. And from Woolworth’s opposite the Market Hall she got some ribbons and slides for Jenny and Sally’s hair, colouring books and crayons for the three youngest and a bottle of whiskey for her father.

      ‘I just love Christmas, don’t you?’ Joy said a little later in the Market Hall as she placed her bowl of soup on the table.

      ‘Yes,’ Meg said. ‘And Mom did.’

      Joy gasped. ‘Oh, Meg, I’m sorry.’

      Meg shrugged. ‘’S’all right,’ she said. ‘Dad said we must make it a special time for the others, that she would want us to. Like he said, we can’t mourn for ever.’

      That night, with the children in bed, Meg showed Terry and her father the things she had bought for her younger brother and sisters. Charlie smiled proudly and said she was getting more like her mother every day.

      The children entered into the spirit of the occasion, weaving garlands to be pinned around the house, helping decorate the tree Charlie had unearthed from the cupboard in the attic, and making a wish as they stirred the Christmas pudding Meg had made with more than a bit of help from May.

      A few days before Christmas Eve, a large crate was delivered to the house. The children were at school and Billy was at May’s house ‘helping’ her make mince pies, so Meg could open the crate from her mother’s family in America, which she found was filled with presents for them all.

      There were beautiful rag dolls for Sally and Jenny. They had pretty painted faces and dark brown hair in plaits, the ends tied with shiny ribbons. The clothes, too, were magnificent: they were dressed in Victorian costume, even down to the pantaloons and petticoats, with velvet dresses. Jenny’s doll wore dark red and Sally’s midnight blue, and the dresses were decorated with lace at the neck and cuffs of the sleeves, with a matching jacket over that and black leather boots covering their cloth feet. Meg knew that the girls would be almost speechless at owing such beautiful dolls; even Jenny, who had said only the other day that she was getting too old to play with them. But not dolls like these, Meg was sure – no one in the streets around them would have anything so fine.

      Billy had a wind-up train on a track. From the box lid it looked a tremendously exciting thing and Meg could guess that her father and Terry would play with it just as much as Billy would. For Ruth there was a soft fluffy teddy and a Jack-in-the-box, which Meg felt sure she would enjoy, though they might have to work it for her at first.

      They had sent Meg an elegant watch with a silver face and a leather strap, in its own box. She laid the watch over her wrist and turned her hand this way and that, for it was the first watch she had ever owned. When she lifted out the large box for her father and realised it contained cigars, she suddenly remembered her mother had always bought a few cigars for her father at Christmas, because he always said it properly completed the dinner. Terry’s box was even larger and contained Meccano, the lid decorated with all the things that a person could make with all the metal rods and plates and screws and bolts.

      Underneath the toys there were clothes. Hat, scarf and glove sets for the three girls, a soft grey cardigan for her father, seamen’s jumpers for Terry and Billy. And for Ruth there was a little pink padded all-in-one that would cover her clothes and could be zipped up snugly. It had a little fur-trimmed hood and mittens attached and Meg knew, whatever the weather, Ruth would be as warm as toast in that.

      She decided not to mention the presents at all; she wrapped everything up again, put them back in the crate and bumped it up the stairs to hide it in her mother’s side of the wardrobe, where her father never went.

      Downstairs once more, she opened the small parcel she had taken from the very bottom of the crate to find it contained cards from all her American relations and a letter from her mother’s eldest brother. He said that the presents were from all of them.

      This will probably be a sorrowful time for all your family, because it is the first without your mother, and so we all hope the things we’ve sent, especially the toys for the children, will help a little on Christmas morning and hope, despite the inevitable sense of loss, you still manage to enjoy the day.

      As she read the letter, tears prickled behind Meg’s eyes at the kindness of her mother’s brothers and sister. Strange to think that she had relatives miles away that she would probably never see, though she knew plenty more were in the same boat.

      Christmas Day began very early. The children exclaimed in delight as they pulled one item after another from the stocking they had hung on the bedhead, and declared themselves pleased as punch with everything. Despite the early hour they were so interested in playing with them that Meg had trouble getting them all ready for Mass in time.

      After a wonderful roast chicken dinner, praised by everyone, followed by the sumptuous pudding they had all stirred, Charlie said that he would wash up the dishes and Terry could dry them and give Meg a break. She was really touched by such thoughtfulness and when all was finished she asked her father to give her a hand bringing something downstairs and so produced the crate. As they examined the contents they were almost speechless with pleasure and Meg blessed those kind people in America. The excitement the children felt at being given things they never in their wildest dreams imagined they’d ever own drove any sadness they might be feeling to the back of their minds, and the day took on an almost magical quality. Charlie smoked his cigar and treated himself to a small glass of whiskey, with a look of delighted pleasure on his face, and later, when the boys set out the clockwork railway, he was as interested as they, while Ruth sat on Meg’s knee and waved her arms excitedly, fascinated by the trains running around the track.

      The girls had taken their rag dolls out on the street to be admired by their friends, and when the cold and darkness drew them in they did some colouring with the new books and crayons. No one was interested in much tea, but Meg made a few chicken sandwiches and put them on the table with the Christmas cake that was May’s present to them. There were mince pies as well, some of which Billy had helped May make, so they were a bit squashed-looking but they tasted all right.

      When everyone had eaten what they wanted, Charlie led them all in carol singing. Her father had such a pleasant voice that Meg would have been happy just to listen, but Charlie would have none of it and soon she was singing along with the rest. They sang till the children were yawning and Ruth had fallen asleep on her knee, and when Meg got up to make a last drink for the children before bed she placed her in her father’s arms.

      He was about to protest but Meg said, ‘This is your baby daughter and she has just enjoyed her first Christmas. Is it too much to ask that you nurse her while I make us all a drink?’

      Charlie looked down at the sleeping child, her warm body snuggled into him. He knew he would never feel the same for her as he did the others, but that knowledge would upset Meg and he had no desire to do that today of all days. So he said, ‘No, Meg, ’course it isn’t.’

      Meg made tea for them all with a smile on her face. Christmas Day was almost over and she had done


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