Christmas Child: an absolutely heartbreaking and emotional Victorian romance by Carol Rivers (i wanna iguana read aloud .txt) 📗

‘I want to help you,’ Terence said calmly, ‘but I can see it’s tricky. You know I’m your friend?’

Ettie felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. ‘I know, yes I do, but …’

‘But some friends are not what they seem, like them circus rotters?’

Ettie hung her head. She was ashamed of the distrust and caution inside her, as though it was a poison left behind by the green fairy.

The buzzing of flies around the open mouths of the dead animals and the shouts of the marketeers erecting their stalls, caused Terence to grasp her arm and wheel her into the cool of the shop. Ettie saw that the slabs of meat had not yet been laid out for his customers’ inspection. She guessed that even Terence’s patience might be tested if she dithered.

‘Now Ettie,’ he said firmly as they stood on the sawdust floor, as yet unsullied by trade. ‘You can trust me, yes, course you can. I’m just an old fella who’s been grateful for the friendship you’ve given me – a young lady who didn’t bat an eyelid when I told her of my indiscretions with them lying, deceiving women. But I’m too old to do a moonlight flit. Too fond of you to tell a tall story. Too respectful of your Christian nature to deceive you, my dear. No, no. I wouldn’t. But you must make up your own mind. Weigh up what you know about Terence the butcher. Put the good and bad on the scales and judge for yourself.’

Ettie smiled hesitantly. ‘I do trust you, Terence.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘I’ve been given a duty to perform and can’t do it alone.’

‘And it concerns this – money?’

Ettie nodded.

‘Can the problem wait until after business? There will customers appearing soon and there won’t be a sausage out for them to inspect.’

Ettie knew that Lucas’s request was of the utmost urgency. He had written in large letters ‘I BESEECH YOU ETTIE, DO THIS WITHOUT HESITATION’.

‘Will you visit me this evening?’

‘Indeed I will.’

‘I’ll wait for you.’

‘Good, m’dear, good. I’ll not let you down. And don’t go worrying yourself. We’ll get a result, so we will, whatever it is.’

But all day, Ettie was on tenterhooks. Between the customers coming into the salon, she read the short letter over and over again. Every minute that passed by seemed to be wasted. Every customer a distraction to the plea that Lucas had written with such urgency.

Chapter 32

The butcher arrived at a few minutes past seven o’clock. Ettie drew the blinds securely and beckoned him into the salon where, in the light of a single candle, she passed him Lucas’s letter.

‘My dear,’ said Terence with a puzzled frown after reading it, ‘I see it quite clearly now. The tobacconist writes with some urgency I agree, and I can only assume it’s of some financial importance. Says here he has written ahead to advise them of your visit to deposit a sum of money. In view of the request, I recommend a sturdy purse or portmanteau and the hire of a reputable cab.’

‘Terence, I can’t call a cab. And neither a purse or portmanteau would be of use.’

‘Why ever not?’

‘Because …’ Ettie had little doubt now that she must reveal the hiding place. For she could not transport the cast-iron chest herself, or even transfer it to a large bag as Terence had suggested. ‘Because Terence, well – I’ll show you.’

Checking again that the blinds were securely drawn, Ettie went to the shelf and the lever. Operating the mechanism took only a few seconds and when the wooden panel was released, Terence gave a muffled gasp.

‘My dear, what’s this?’

Ettie lifted the floorboard. She took out the key and unlocked the chest. When the lid was fully open, Terence let out an astonished gasp. ‘Good grief, good grief! By all the saints!’ Terence stared at her and back to the chest brimming with leather moneybags. ‘Are my eyes deceiving me?’

‘No, Terence. Every bag is full.’

‘By gad, business must have been good?’

‘Yes, very good indeed.’

‘And you’ve stored it all here in the wall?’

‘Just as Mr Benjamin told me to.’

‘But you could be raided!’ suggested the butcher fiercely. ‘Them circus harlots might have fleeced you. Might even have done you in. Your tobacconist needs his brains tested. Leaving a little ‘un like you to guard his fortune!’

Ettie shook her head. ’Mr Benjamin’s brains are full of his wife’s condition. He has no one else to help him.’

‘Even so, this is a liberty,’ blustered Terence. ‘The man should engage an accountant or solicitor to oversee his profits! Why there must be a hundred pounds or more in that box!’

‘Three hundred and thirty pounds, ten shillings and sixpence to be precise,’ Ettie said quietly. She had counted every coin to make sure.

Terence made a choking noise. ‘Three hundred and …’ he coughed and spluttered, flapping his hand wildly.

‘Including the return of my wages to settle my debt.’

‘Your debt?’ he repeated aghast. ‘My dear, you have no debt to settle! It’s the tobacconist who is in debt to you!’ He brought out his handkerchief, a little cleaner than usual and tipping back his hat, pushed it over his sweating face. ‘Ettie, you are but a child and he a grown man! And though I know you think the world of your employer, he has saddled you with a dangerous duty. Transporting this chest – well, how would you do it? Every eye in Silver Street would be on you. Any cab driver, a rogue. Perish the thought, but you might be held up and robbed!’

‘But I have to try, Terence,’ Ettie wailed. ‘This letter is different – it’s desperate!’

‘There, there, don’t upset yourself.’ The butcher’s gaze softened as he studied her with care and concern. He raised his hands in defeat and slapped them on his knees.

‘You are like a daughter to me and I can’t refuse you. No, I would not do that even though I’m inflamed with indignation at this man’s expectations.