Chapter 17 - Christmas 1927

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The sitting room looked magical. A tree stood in one corner decorated with real candles. As this was Christmas Eve, Alice had allowed the candles to be lit for the first time. The room was hung with holly and mistletoe. In another corner was a nativity scene which Jed had painstakingly cut out and painted for Evie. Mary sat on a straw bale holding baby Jesus whilst a bearded and two dimensional Joseph looked on, his hands clasped in humility. A donkey and a sheep completed the tableau. Jed hadn’t had time to make the shepherds. Outside a fierce wind whipped flurries of snow around Hope Cottage but inside the roaring log fire made the house seem warm and friendly.

 Evie had finished her tea and was bouncing around excitedly on Jack’s knees. He was pretending to let her fall back but catching her just in time, accompanied by peals of laughter.

 “Careful, Evie. Mind you don’t bang your head on the floor when you do that,” warned Jed from his chair on the opposite side of the room.

 “Don’t be silly, Daddy. Uncle Jack’s strong. He won’t let me fall. You’re always being silly.”

 “She’s alright, Jed,” snapped Alice. “Just let her be.”

 It was increasingly like this. Evie saw Jack as the kind uncle, fun to be with, seldom cross, always ready with a game. Jed, however, had been designated the role of disciplinarian. Alice was always telling him to “stop Evie doing this,” or “warn her about doing that.” As a consequence, Evie increasingly argued with Jed, encouraged sometimes by Alice. It hurt Jed. He loved Evie but he wanted to bring her up properly. Already she was showing signs of becoming precocious.

 Jack was suddenly convulsed with a coughing fit and Alice pulled Evie from his lap.

 “Now go and see your daddy. Tell him it’s time to take you to bed. If you’re good he’ll read you a story.”

 “I don’t want him to read a story. I want Uncle Jack to read a story. Daddy can’t read properly.”

 Jed felt humiliated. He knew it was true. He had always been a slow reader and he struggled with big words.

 “Evie, go upstairs with your daddy or Santa Claus won’t come tomorrow morning,” warned Alice as she tried to help Jack who was still choking.

 “Come on, Evie, let’s go upstairs then,” said Jed, getting up from his chair and lifting Evie from the floor.

 “No, no. Let me go! Let me go!” shouted Evie, kicking and screaming. It was like this most nights. Jed would try to read her a story but she would refuse to listen, screaming and hitting out at him. Eventually, Jack would go upstairs to see her and Evie would dissolve into fits of giggles before slipping into sleep. It hurt Jed dreadfully that he couldn’t bond with Evie in the same way as Jack and matters were made worse by the fact that Alice seemed almost to condone her behaviour towards him.

 The next morning Evie was up early, keen to ensure that Santa had left the promised presents under the tree. Alice brought her downstairs and together they admired the pile of gifts wrapped in coloured paper and tied with bows. In spite of Evie’s impatience, she was made to wait until after breakfast before beginning to attack the pile. There were numerous small presents and two larger ones which Alice insisted must be left until last. After an assortment of crayons, chocolates, cuddly toys and jigsaws had been unwrapped, Evie could contain herself no longer and selected the bigger of the two boxes to open next. Alice helped her remove the wrapping paper to reveal a beautifully detailed dolls’ house - a replica of Hope Cottage. Jed had spent many months building the dolls’ house in his workshop and had been longing for the day that Evie would be allowed to play with it.

 “See here, Evie,” he said as he got down onto his knees, “see how the front opens up.”

 He undid a catch and opened up the front wall of the house to reveal a fully furnished interior, complete with miniature dolls representing Alice, Jack, Jed and Evie.

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