Chapter 3: The Joy of Giving
"He knew what that little speech meant. But he had steeled himself. He longed to reply with a jest; the bitterness of his heart could have uttered one, but his mother deserved better of him. He came round behind her, so that she could not see his looks, and, bending back her gray, stony face, he kissed it, murmuring:
'No one loves me,—no one cares for me, but you, mother.'"
-North & South -
Elizabeth Gaskell
Home was a cramped old house in a humble part of town, opening onto a cobbled courtyard shared with two other working families. In five years, the Thorntons had accustomed themselves to the noise, the damp and the draught along the floor when winter came, but it was the gloom that Hannah found hardest to bear, the faint light stealing through grey glass that no amount of scrubbing could ever brighten.
Though she had had thrust all memories of their former home in Milton from her mind, she could not help but look with anguish upon the threadbare carpet in the parlour, the plain furniture that John had to mend far too often, and the dreary windowless room where he tumbled shivering into bed, when they had no money for coal.
Today, however, a fire was burning merrily in the grate and Hannah had allowed the family the extravagance of three beeswax candles and a bowl of crocuses at the dining table. A small pudding bursting with plums, a few thin slices of ham and yesterday's coarse bread served for their Christmas feast; it was the crowning glory of three months' careful economizing, and she had her reward when Fanny slid into her chair, round-eyed with joy, and John stood, for once, quite speechless with disbelief.
And when the meal was over, chairs were pulled to the fireplace and the presents, hitherto concealed in devious places, were produced. Two brown parcels tumbled unceremoniously into John's lap.
"Go on, open them, John," Fanny said, hugging herself, "The bigger one's mine. Mother made me undo them a hundred times, and I spent absolutely ages on them!"
Ceremoniously, he undid the string and uncovered a pair of grey woolen gloves clumsily knit, grinned and kissed her brow. "Thank you, Fanny. They're the finest gloves on earth." Turning back the wrapper on the remaining gift, he found a set of monogrammed handkerchiefs bearing his initials embroidered in royal blue. He looked up, "Mother, I'd recognize your work anywhere. I'll carry them with me wherever I go, for they will always remind me of you."
She inclined her head, and only said huskily, "You'd better give Fanny her present."
The "Tales of the Alhambra" was swiftly unveiled and as Fanny settled herself closer to the fire and began turning the first of its thick, creamy pages, John turned to his mother and held out a narrow, flat box fastened with a green satin ribbon.
Hannah untied it with some trepidation, and as the lid came away, her hand flew at once to her lips. It was a collar of white lace, intricately worked in a butterfly motif, and she knew at once, with a pang in her heart the sacrifices he must have made for her sake. "Do you like it?" he asked shyly.
"John, I've never seen anything more exquisite, but you really shouldn't have - "
"I wanted to," he insisted. "And here is more good news mother, look at what Mr Coulter has given us," and he pressed into her hand the purse containing the twenty shillings he had received.
Hannah was very still, staring hard at the twenty silver coins gleaming in firelight. "I thank God for you John. Each day, I thank Him for not leaving me alone with Fanny." Reaching out, she touched his cheek with greatest tenderness. "You are my courage, John. Promise me that you'll never leave me. Promise me that you'll always be mine."
She saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes before he folded her into his arms.
"I promise, mother. Always."
Author's note:
Season's Greetings and thanks to all who followed my last N&S story. John's life during the difficult years after his father's death has always been of interest to me, and given the time of year, I decided to take a look at one particular Christmas five years after George Thornton's suicide. Some quick comments on the story:
-Mr Coulter and his draper's shop is a complete figment of my imagination.
-John gets what is known today as a "bonus" of 20 shillings for Christmas. In N&S, he earned 15 shillings a week working in a draper's shop. 20 shillings seemed to me a reasonable amount for a Christmas bonus.
-The Thorntons attend a Unitarian church: This was inspired by Mrs Gaskell's being a wife and daughter of Unitarian ministers, and some quick research showing that Unitarianism developed in large industrial cities in the Midlands and the North of England. There is also a conversation between John and Margaret in the novel implying that he held to a different religious tradition from her own traditional Anglicanism, and it didn't seem unreasonable to me that the Thorntons would be Nonconformists - which may have increased Margaret's disapproval of the family. If anyone has comments on this, I'd welcome them.
-Mrs Thornton's lace collar: Inspired by the one admired by Mrs Hale in the novel and mini-series.
Hope everyone enjoys the story!