Page 18 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘Why are you frequenting that window, Celeste?’ He sits down in the chair Estelle always favours. Except, I notice now, the chairs have also changed, and are nothing like the floral fabric ones we were sitting in before. They are now much more upright wingback armchairs in a dark green leather. ‘You will catch your death of cold standing there, especially now it’s snowing outside. Come, sit by the fire with your husband.’
Celeste looks over at him, clearly wanting to be anywhere else than by his side right now. But she does as she’s told and sits down in the chair opposite.
‘Now, what is making my wife look quite so sad on this eve of Christmas?’ Jasper asks, warming his hands in front of the fire. ‘This is the season of joy, my dear, not of melancholy.’
‘It is nothing, husband.’ Celeste sits with perfect posture in the chair, her hands clasped neatly in her lap.
‘It must be something, dear wife. Pray tell me?’
Celeste swallows hard, then bravely she takes a deep breath.
‘My child is upstairs having given birth to my first grandchild today,’ she says quietly, looking down into her lap. ‘I wish to know my grandson. I do not want him to go to strangers.’
Jasper doesn’t say anything as he continues to warm his hands. But his silence makes the room feel even chillier.
‘The child upstairs may well be your grandson, but he is also a bastard,’ Jasper says in a quiet but steady voice, still looking into the flames. ‘Your daughter is not married, and is unlikely to become so now she has lost her virtue. When you told me she was with child, I was more than generous in letting her stay under my roof, was I not?’
Annoyingly, Celeste nods. ‘You were, husband.’
‘And did we not agree that, on the birth of the child, it would be removed from this house immediately?’
‘We did, but—’
‘But nothing!’ Jasper bellows. ‘I have a reputation to uphold, Celeste,’ he continues in a lower, but no less menacing voice. ‘I cannot and will not allow that bastard to remain in my house.’ He pulls a pocket watch from his waistcoat. ‘They will be here at a quarter past the hour, and we will never talk of this again. Do you hear?’
Celeste nods hurriedly, then she stands up.
‘Where do you go now?’ Jasper asks.
‘I have things to attend to,’ Celeste says, clearly trying to hold back her tears.
‘What things?’
‘For the handover.’
Jasper nods. ‘Very well.’
Celeste leaves the room.
Forgetting for a moment just how strange the situation I currently find myself in is, I turn quickly towards Estelle and Angela. ‘What happens next?’ I demand.
‘We simply watch the story unfold.’ Estelle says calmly. ‘All will be explained. Come, we move forward a few minutes.’
Walking with incredible ease, Estelle leads us out of the sitting room and into the hallway.
‘The tiles are still the same!’ I say, looking down at the black-and-white patterned floor tiles that are in Estelle’s house. ‘Yours must be the originals.’
But Angela and Estelle are looking at the front door.
Seconds later someone rattles on it.
Edith hurries past us to open it. ‘You must be from the hospital,’ she mutters, clearly trying to hide her anger. ‘I suppose you’d best come in.’
A gentleman wearing a long, grey woollen coat, gloves and a top hat steps into the hallway. He brushes the snow from his coat and his hat before he enters.
‘Wait here,’ Edith says, heading for the stairs. ‘I’ll let the mistress know you have arrived.’
‘No need, Edith.’ Celeste is already walking slowly down the stairs carrying a tightly wrapped bundle, which she presses tightly to her body.
