December 8th

Little Robin Redbreast

Robins had always been Penny's favourite bird, from as far back as she could remember. They were frequent visitors into the gardens at her ancestral home. She'd sit at the window and watch them for hours.

One particular Christmas, her mother gave her a tiny little Robin charm for her bracelet. It was made of silver with a ruby for the red chest and black enamel eyes.

It was her mother's last present.

She left them in the New Year. Just packed her bags and left, in favour of a younger serviceman. It was the scandal of the century and Lord Hugh tried to keep it from Penny for as long as possible. He tried to shield her from the gossipmongers.

And it made their relationship, that little bit stronger. But eventually he had to sit her down and explain that mother wasn't coming back.

From then on, her mother was never mentioned.

Ever.
Again.

But Penny still kept that robin charm. And she still looked out of the window on occasion, just to see the robins flitting around the shrubbery in the garden.

Yes, they were cheery little birds, but sometimes she'd feel a little twinge of sadness, but could never figure out why. Actually, that was a big fat lie. She knew EXACTLY why she felt sad.

However, she'd sit up straight, jut that little jaw right out and pooch out her 'stiff upper lip'. Because that's what the British did. That's what they always did.