Page 38 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘No, but my name is still bad enough.’
Ben looks puzzled for a moment. ‘Don’t tell me … don’t tell me … Got it! Noelle, right? But you call yourself Elle because it’s more normal and less … ’
‘Christmassy!’ we both say at the same time, and we smile.
‘Noelle is not quite as bad as Ebenezer, though, is it?’ Ben says, grimacing.
I grin. ‘No, you definitely win that one.’
‘I think I might retire,’ Estelle announces while Ben and I are still smiling at each other. ‘I’m feeling quite worn out after tonight’s storytelling. Angela?’
Angela jumps from where she’s been gazing with a dopey expression at Ben and me, and rushes over to help Estelle up.
‘I hope you both enjoyed this evening’s tale?’ Estelle asks us, as Alvie hops off her lap, and she rises to her feet with Angela’s help. ‘And it has given you much to write about, Elle?’
‘It has indeed,’ I tell her. ‘Yet again.’
‘I’m sure you still have many questions, Ben,’ she says as she takes hold of her cane. ‘I appreciate my storytelling techniques are quite … full on.’
Ben nods. ‘You can say that again.’
‘But perhaps you’d like to join us again tomorrow, if you’re free? When I will be telling Elle the third of my stories.’
‘I would love to,’ Ben says, smiling graciously. ‘I don’t know how you did what you did tonight, Estelle. But if it’s going to happen again, I definitely want to be a part of it.’
‘Then it shall be so. Elle,’ Estelle says, turning to me. ‘You are very quiet. Is everything all right?’
‘I was just wondering about Timothy,’ I say hastily, though in truth I was thinking about Ben and the way he just smiled at me. ‘Did his experiences that day change him in any way? In the first story you said that Nora and her husband went on to donate a lot of money to children’s charities. So I wondered if something similar happened to Timothy and his family?’
Estelle smiles. ‘Yes, you are correct. Timothy went on to support many of the charities that Charles Dickens was involved in. Eventually he became a member of parliament and campaigned tirelessly for help and assistance for underprivileged children. Many important social reform bills were passed as a result of his efforts.’
‘And Belle – what happened to her?’
‘Belle went on to marry a doctor, and they were both involved in raising the funds to open Great Ormond Street Hospital for sick children. Their son, Charles, went into publishing like his grandfather, and was eventually involved in publishing the originalPeter Pannovel, which, as you might know, now helps support the hospital with royalties from the book and the subsequent play.’
‘Gosh, so they were both involved in helping needy children in the future – that’s great.’ I smile. ‘It’s really cool to see how one little moment can change a person’s life. I’m pleased there was a reason for that story.’
‘There is a reason for all my stories,’ Estelle says with meaning. ‘It might not be immediately obvious every time. But believe me, all this,’ she waves her hand around the room, ‘is for a reason. Now, I must bid you both goodnight.’
We both say goodnight to Estelle.
‘I’m going upstairs soon as well,’ Angela says as she helps Estelle through the door. ‘So you’ve got the place to yourselves.’ She winks at us. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do … ’
I shake my head as they both head along the hall with Alvie trotting after them.
‘Sorry about that,’ I say as Ben sits down opposite me in Estelle’s vacated chair.
‘Which particular thing are you referring to?’ Ben asks. ‘So much has happened here tonight, I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not any more.’
‘I felt exactly the same after Estelle’s first story.’
‘How is she doing it? Have you any theories? Was it the whisky?’ He picks up one of the glasses on the table next to him and sniffs it. ‘Did we take hallucinogenic drugs without knowing?’
‘I wondered something similar last night. Except last night we were all drinking tea just before Estelle’s story, not whisky. They both swear blind it wasn’t drugged, though, and I believe them.’
‘Yeah, I guess that’s a little extreme. But … ’ Ben looks around the room again. ‘How did what just happened … happen? It’s impossible, isn’t it? You were there – it was so real.’
‘I know. In a way, tonight’s story was even more real than last night’s.’
