A/N- Woo! I am back with another chapter. This time we are back in Chandler's POV. There may be certain words that you may not understand in this chapter. So, just in case, I will add a small list of meanings at the end of the chapter.
This is a bit of a filler chapter, despite its length, but some really exciting stuff is coming up in the next few chapters, so bear with me!
If you are not yet in a Christmassy mood, this chapter may change your mind, haha!
Thanks again to those who have reviewed. I sincerely love you all :)
I hope you enjoy this next one!
It was officially a week until Christmas and exactly a month since he had last seen her. Every time she entered his mind, a tight knot formed in his stomach, twisting tighter each time. Chandler felt absolutely awful that it had been so long and wondered what she must have thought of him. Coward? Liar? Abandoner? Or maybe nothing at all? Maybe, she had completely forgotten about him? She did, after all, have a life of her own.
What killed him the most, though, was that none of those things were true. He had wanted to go and see her. He wanted to gaze into her stunning blue eyes again. But every time, every time he was going to, something else came up.
"Chandler, can you do this, please?" "Chandler, could you do that, please?" "Darling, be a dear and go and pick this up for me?"
Something had stopped him at every turn. It felt like the universe was against them at this point.
Of course, Chandler shouldn't have been surprised. The lead up to Christmas had always been stressful and demanding, even more so because his family ran a coffeehouse. Each day, extra customers piled in to get their fill of spiced cinnamon hot chocolates, delicious muffins, and a cosy place to relax every day – it was none-stop. And Chandler, like every year, had been given the task to decorate the coffeehouse, ensuring that it was completely decked from top to bottom. Garlands dangled above the windows, kissing balls that consisted of evergreen and mistletoe hung above the tables, fuzzy stockings hung from the counter – anything Christmassy and you would find it in Hyde Perk.
Poor Rachel had been just as busy, serving customers, grinding countless coffee beans, wiping down tables, cleaning all the crockery, ensuring that there was always plenty of stock. Chandler had barely had the chance to speak to her, let alone go and see Miss Geller.
He had, however, seen her last week. He had spotted her going into The Smelly Cat, dressed in a beautiful pine green dress and a black corset. Chandler had almost followed in after her, but something had rooted him to the spot, stopping him from chasing after her. Chandler figured it was because the tavern was a mutual setting. In the brothel, they both knew where they stood. They knew what he was there for. But in the tavern, they were on equal footing, and something about that scared him, so he turned away.
And, God, did he regret it.
He didn't want to wait to see her any longer, though, and tonight, he did not care what stopped him, he was going to go and see her. Even if it killed him.
"Your own bag of roasted chestnuts for only a guinea, sir?" A costermonger called out to him, disrupting his train of thoughts.
Chandler looked up to see an old woman, toothlessly smiling at him from behind her small pit fire that had a grate above it for the chestnuts to roast on. He could feel the heat emanating from the fire, the lumps of coal sizzling away. He wanted to say no. He knew that he should. It was not the time of year to be spending money needlessly. But she flashed him another smile, her gums peeking out from under her lips, and clasped her hands together in a prayer gesture, silently begging for his custom, and his heart constricted. It was times like this that he hated having money because guilt followed him everywhere he went.
"That would be lovely, ma'am," he conceded, smiling at her.
She let out a small squeal of gratitude before picking up a small and flimsy brown paper bag, the size of a person's hand, and dropped five huge chestnuts inside. She twisted the top of the bag, her exposed fingers shaking from the cold, and thrust it into his hand as he handed her the guinea.
"Thank you, sir, thank you. Bless you and have a Merry Christmas," she croaked, her voice hoarse from the weather.
Chandler dipped his head forward, gripping the front of his hat politely in response, then continued up the street. He took one chestnut out of the bag and placed the rest in his pocket, feeling the heat radiate through his overcoat. There was no harm in indulging in just the one, was there? He carefully bit into it and had to suppress a groan when the sweet and rich taste touched his tongue. It had been years since he had last had one, and he had almost forgotten how good they were. The taste of them was almost comforting. He put the rest of it into his mouth happily and headed up the street to find the fir-tree market stall.
For the last few weeks, it had been a struggle to get anywhere, for the snow had fallen consecutively every night, transforming London into a life-size snow globe. At first, there was a freezing chill that hung in the air, a layer of sparkling frost bejewelling the leaves, turning them crunchy. But now, they were no longer visible and had long been forgotten beneath the layers upon layers of snow.
Even with gloves on, the cold seeped through to his fingertips, numbing them until they ceased to bend properly, complete stiff and frigid. He attempted to wiggle them every few minutes or so, eager to get the blood flowing naturally again. The tip of his nose tingled, the harsh wind nipping at it. He was almost certain that it looked like a bright red berry, not dissimilar to the one you'd see on top of a Christmas pudding.
Whenever Chandler heard the first whisper of a robin's birdsong, he knew winter had begun. That a new season was upon them with the promise of another year lying ahead, waiting. As much as he hated how busy this time of year was, he couldn't deny that he loved Christmas. Ever since he was a child, Christmas had brought him the feeling of love and joy. Whilst his parents had never acted like a conventional couple, they had always made an effort on Christmas day to watch their son open his gifts together, their faces lighting up every time Chandler tore open another gift in excitement, giggling with happiness.
"COME AND GET YOUR CHRISTMAS TREE. SELLING FOR TEN POUNDS AND FIVE SHILLINGS. NO BETTER DEAL ANYWHERE ELSE!"
Chandler wondered how much further he would have to go, but the cry of the young barrow boy answered his question and sure enough, up ahead, he could see a huge flock of fir-trees scattered all around the area, blocking off the end of the street.
"Ah, how would you like one of our trees, fine sir? Just ten pounds and five shillings, and you'll have a fantastic Christmas tree to put your living room in no time!" A man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties cheerfully said. A young boy stood beside him, looking no older than nine, who Chandler assumed was his son. He was wearing dark brown trousers covered in dirt with a hole in the material above his knee, a shabby grey coat where the stitching had come loose at the seams and a flat cap that seemed too large for his head as it fell forward over his eyes.
Chandler discreetly cleared his throat and tore his vision away from the boy to look at the man who had a hopeful look on his face. It was clear to Chandler that the only way this father and son would be able to afford food for Christmas this year would be if they managed to sell all of these Christmas trees.
He smiled at the man, "Show me your finest tree, and we may have a deal."
Chandler didn't miss the way his face lit up as he gently squeezed the shoulder of the young boy, "Henry, go and help this gentleman find a Christmas tree."
The young boy, Henry, it had been revealed, pushed his flat cap up from his eyes as he stared up at Chandler. It unnerved Chandler that he could see the hollows of his cheeks and desperately tried to hide the pity from his face.
He was surprised when the boy grabbed his hand unexpectedly and began dragging him away, "Right this way, sir!"
It amazed Chandler how cheerful he sounded, despite his clearly impoverished life, but then he realised that, of course, children born into poverty had never known anything else. For them, this was their way of life. Often, these children showed more gratitude than those who were raised in families that wanted for nothing. They learnt gratitude not from what they had but from what they didn't have – they appreciated the smallest of things. Something as simple as having a bowl of warm porridge would most likely make their day.
"This is a great tree, sir!" The boy pointed enthusiastically in front of them, "It's really tall and is the perfect size to decorate, just in time for Christmas. It is the greenest and biggest of them all, sir, and that's the truth!" He chattered excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet animatedly.
Chandler chuckled at his passionate little speech.
"I believe you, kid," he said teasingly, yet sincerely too.
Henry looked up at him with wide eyes from under the front of his flat cap. They were alight with hope, his brown iris' shining with innocence. There was a smudge of dirt just under his lip, and Chandler licked his thumb, leaning down to gently rub it off his chin.
"So, do you think I should get this one?" Chandler asked him playfully.
He nodded eagerly, a cheeky grin on his face.
Chandler pretended to ponder for a minute, tapping his fingers against his lips before extending his hand out towards the boy.
"Okay, you have yourself a deal."
Henry gasped, his tiny hand reaching out to shake Chandlers energetically.
"That's great, Sir. I'll go and get my Dad. Just wait here, okay!" He said, running off before Chandler could even respond.
Only moments later, he reappeared with his father at his side.
"A fine choice, Sir," the man stated with a smile on his face. "That will be ten pounds and five shillings if you will."
Chandler pulled out twenty golden sovereign coins, gleaming in the afternoon sun, which bounced off the reflection of the snow, and placed all of them into the man's bitterly cold hands. He had paid him almost double the asking price.
The man's jaw became slack in shock, and Chandler panicked for a second that he had stopped breathing.
But then Chandler just smiled, grabbed the bottom of the trunk, and began dragging the tree, which was being held together tightly with thick twine, behind him along the snow. He stopped in front of the man who still appeared frozen in disbelief and clapped his hand on his shoulder.
"Merry Christmas to you and your son, good fellow!" And he continued back down the street.
A few seconds later, he heard the man call after him, bellowing, "THANK YOU, SIR. GOOD WISHES TO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY. AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!"
Chandler smiled to himself, hauling the tree along, creating a deep trail in the snow. He spotted a drayhorse occupied by an empty cart. The coachman sat waiting, sitting on the front bench of the cart behind the drayhorse.
"Hyde Park, please," Chandler requested.
"Right you are, Sir."
Chandler lifted the tree onto the back of the cart and then climbed in himself, pulling his coat collar up around his neck to block out the wind before the drayhorse began trotting along towards the designated destination.
Finally, after what felt like the longest forty-five minutes Chandler had ever endured, they had arrived. It was now early evening, and he knew the coffeehouse would be closed now. He swiftly paid the coachman, thanking him as he removed the tree off the cart and headed towards Hyde Perk.
Luckily it was only a few yards away, and Chandler spotted Rachel and his mother through the window. He pushed the door open with his foot and tugged the tree into the coffeehouse. Rachel spotted him and rushed over to help him carry it in.
"Chandler, dear, you're back," his mother greeted, placing her mug of hot lemon water on the table before standing up.
"How was the trip?"
"Boiling," he sarcastically quipped, spotting Rachel trying to stifle a snigger.
Nora rolled her eyes, and the three of them moved the tree so that it was standing in front of the window.
"Rachel would you be a darling and go and get a knife from the kitchen please," his mother asked.
"Of course, Nora," she replied, hurrying off to the kitchen.
It had taken a long time for Rachel to get used to calling her, Nora. She was so accustomed to referring to her as Mrs Bing out of politeness that Nora had jokingly threatened to poison her tea unless she called her Nora. She hated how Mrs Bing made her sound so old when she was only forty.
"Wait, we're not going to decorate the tree now, are we?" Chandler quickly questioned, thinking about wanting to see Miss Geller tonight. This would only hold him up. Again.
"Of course, we are! We have waited too long to get the tree as it is. Besides, your father is upstairs reading, so now is a perfect time to do it."
Chandler bit his tongue, holding back a sigh. He would just have to go afterwards.
"So, did you get a good price for it?" She asked after a few seconds as they waited for Rachel, who was most likely having to wash up one of the knives.
Chandler rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"I err, I paid twenty pounds for it," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing under his mother's gaze.
Nora's eyebrows shot up, "Come again?"
"It was just a young father and his son, Mother. I just wanted to help them out with a little extra. It is Christmas after all…" he trailed off.
Nora sighed despite being touched by her son's kind mentality. She cupped his check so that he was looking at her.
"Honey, what you did was sweet, but you can't help every pauper out there."
"I know, but I can at least try, can't I?" He tried, feeling optimistic.
She smiled fondly at him, tapping his cheek instead of responding.
"Here we go," Rachel called, coming back into the room, carefully holding the steel knife.
She passed it to Chandler, who began cutting the pieces of twine wrapped around the tree. The branches flopped down, spreading out, as a few snowflakes, which were still trapped in between the tree's needles, floated to the floor, melting instantly.
"Where are the decorations?" Chandler asked.
"They're under the counter," Rachel replied, going to retrieve them.
She came back over carrying a medium-sized wooden crate full of a variety of items for them to place onto the Christmas tree.
"What is this?" Chandler asked, pulling out a handmade stuffed angel tied to a bit of ribbon.
"Oh, you made that when you were little. I found it the other day and added it to the crate," Nora smiled, picking out some dried orange slices, and tying them to the tree with string.
"Awwww, Chandler," Rachel teasingly cooed.
Chandler rolled his eyes at her.
"How old was I?" He asked, hanging it on one of the top branches. He was secretly quite impressed with himself, thinking it looked pretty good. He wasn't going to let them know that, though.
"Oh, about five or six, I think," Nora replied, this time tying some silver ribbon to a pinecone and hanging it on a lower branch.
Rachel smiled before bending down to retrieve a sprig of holly.
"I used to love decorating the tree as a child," she murmured as she tied the sprig to a branch.
Chandler and Nora looked at each other, unsure of how to respond. Rachel didn't talk about her family very often, too hurt by the memory of their treatment. They weren't surprised by her reluctance to talk. Being disowned by your own family is a painful experience.
"Do you miss them, dear?" Nora hesitantly asked.
Rachel remained silent for a few moments, tracing her finger over Chandler's handmade angel, which now hung proudly.
"I miss what used to be," she eventually responded.
"But, I have you as my family now, and you know I couldn't be more grateful," she added, her voice suddenly perky.
Chandler and Nora both beamed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, planting a kiss on her hair.
"Yeah, we love having you here. You're like the little sister that I never wanted," Chandler laughed.
"Hey!" She jabbed his ribs, mock offended.
The three of them laughed and spent the next hour joyfully decorating the tree, giggling and babbling in festive cheer.
"Well, I think it looks just about done," Chandler announced, clapping his hands together.
The tree was now completely decorated, adorned with dried fruit, cranberries, pine cones, holly, and of course, Chandler's angel. It looked magnificent.
"We did a good job, kiddos!" Nora praised, standing back to appreciate their artwork.
"I think it looks great!" Rachel admired, walking around the tree.
"Well kids, now that we are done here, I think I'm goi-" She was interrupted by the low hum of singing in the distance.
Rachel immediately snapped her head towards Chandler, glee plastered all over her face.
Chandler knew exactly what she was asking, and his heart began to race. No, no, no, no, no. Not now. Not when he was planning to go and see her. He had patiently waited all day. Why was the universe trying so hard to stop him from seeing her?
"It sounds like Carol singers," Nora stated fondly. She always used to go Carol singing as a child with her parents and again when Chandler had been a small boy, but it had been a long time since she had last done it.
"Come on, Chandler! Let's go join them!" Rachel pleaded.
Great. How was he going to get out of this one?
He scratched the back of his neck. "Oh…I don't know Rach…I'm tired from lugging the huge tree home," he explained, faking a yawn and stretching his arms.
"Oh, don't be such a bah humbug," Nora huffed, walking over to the coat stand, grabbing his and Rachel's hats and coats.
She handed Rachel hers and then pressed his into his chest. He sighed, relenting. This was going to be another night without seeing her apparently. Reluctantly he put on the black overcoat whilst his Mother placed his hat on his head for him.
"There, don't you look cute," she grinned, kissing him on the cheek.
Chandler groaned, embarrassed, and this time Rachel laughed out, not even bothering to hide her amusement at his mother cooing over him. She really was like a typical, annoying litter sister. But he loved her all the same.
"Right, I am going to go a find Roly. I suspect he is upstairs with your father. You kids have fun!"
"We will! Thanks Nora!" Rachel called, already halfway out the door, her arm hooked in Chandler's.
Whilst they had been decorating the tree, a few fresh layers of snow had settled upon the ground like a giant cotton blanket. It was nine in the evening, and soft snowflakes were still drifting down from the silver snow clouds above. Chandler watched them fall obliquely against the pale light of the gas lamps, each flake dancing in the wintry air.
Rachel leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked towards the small church at the other end of the street, where they could hear the echo of Carol singers from inside. The snow crunched beneath their feet with every step, and Chandler could feel winter's cold embrace as the wind howled around his ears.
Finally, they caught up to the church and slipped in at the back just as they were about to begin another song. Inside the church, the room glowed in the candlelight, casting dark shadows along the walls and the windows were of rich glass, stained in beautiful hues of red, blue, and gold.
Chandler cleared his throat, smiling at Rachel, and began to sing along.
Silent night, holy night!
All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon Virgin, Mother, and Child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
He had to admit he did enjoy Carol signing, and he always looked back on the times his parents took him as a child fondly.
They stayed for another half an hour before he saw Rachel beginning to yawn.
He bent down to her ear, whispering, "Did you want to head back now?"
As much as Rachel was enjoying herself, she had to admit she was very tired, and she nodded at him. They quietly exited, not wanting to disturb anyone, and headed back to the coffeehouse. They were both quiet during the walk back, comfortable in each other's company. His mind was still focused on Miss Geller, wondering whether she would still be free tonight. It was nearing ten in the evening now, but he was desperate to see her at this point. He didn't think he would be able to focus another day without seeing her.
Once they arrived back, Chandler was surprised to see Roland curled up on one of the plush seats. It was very rare that he came into the actual coffeehouse, usually preferring to be in the living room upstairs.
They both removed their outer layers, and Rachel headed to the hallway, clearly ready for bed. It was late, and he knew that his parents would have already retired for the night. She stopped when she noticed Chandler hadn't followed her and turned around.
"Are you not going to bed?" She curiously asked.
"No, I'm going to relax and stay down here with Roly for a bit," he told her.
"Oh, okay," she smiled, coming over to give him a hug, which he warmly returned.
"Good night, Big Bro," she affectionately said.
Chandler chuckled, "Good night, Little Sis."
They sometimes called each other those pet names, thinking it was both funny and sweet.
She retreated upstairs, and Chandler was finally left alone. He waited until he was sure Rachel was asleep too, then not wanting to wait another moment, quickly put his coat back on and returned back out into the wintry night. He didn't care how long it took him to get there, he was going to see her.
The moment he saw the sign 'Mrs Leonard's Lotties and Totties', he let out a sigh of relief.
The cuffs of his trousers were completely soaked through, and he was pretty sure his ears had frostbite. It certainly felt like it anyway. But he didn't care because he was finally here.
He entered the familiar hallway towards the reception and saw the madam snoozing in the chair, an extinguished cigarette dangling from her lips.
Chandler tapped the small bell on the counter, and she jerked awake, shaking her head around wildly for a moment until she spotted him, the forgotten cigarette falling into her lap.
She clutched her hand to her chest, her breath regulating again.
"Are you trying to kill me, handsome?" She asked cheekily.
Chandler gritted his teeth, disgusted by her.
"Is Miss Geller available?"
Estelle grinned, her row of rotting yellow teeth gleaming at him, and Chandler genuinely felt his stomach churn.
"No, she's not, handsome. My other girl, Miss Lewis, is free, though."
Chandler immediately felt his heart sink like a heavyweight. He wasn't going to be able to her tonight.
Why was life so cruel? The fact that Chandler really did not appreciate the nickname 'handsome' she had apparently given him did not improve matters either.
"No, thank you. But I would like to know, is she available a week from today?"
She grinned at him again and peered down in the appointment book, scanning the page.
"You will be pleased to hear that Miss Geller is completely free that night," she told him.
"Great, I would like to book the evening with her, please," he requested as he put down two guineas on the counter.
"Certainly, handsome."
She took the money, adding it to a pot.
"Who should I say that the appointment is for when I inform her?"
"No one. Leave it anonymous," Chandler quickly replied, causing her to quirk an eyebrow.
"Okay, I guess we will see you then," she grinned once more, and Chandler left before another shiver worked its way out of his body, this time not from the cold.
It was important that she didn't know it was him because he wanted to surprise her.
And to make it even better, next Monday was Christmas Eve.
A/N- Anddddd, we've made it to the end of this chapter, yay! As promised here is a small list of meanings for some words that you may not know or understand. I hope they help:
Kissing balls - During the Victorian period, Christmas kissing balls were decorated balls of holy, herbs and mistletoe, among other evergreens. They were traditionally hung over doorways as invitations for people to kiss.
Costermonger - A person who sells goods, especially fruits and vegetables, from a handcart in the street.
Barrow boy - A boy or a man who sells items from a barrow in the street.
Sovereign Coins - In the Victorian period, a golden sovereign coin was worth a pound.
Drayhorse - A horse adapted for drawing heavy loads.
I hope these meanings have helped, and if there were any other words you didn't understand, just let me know and I will tell you :)
On another note - I don't normally ever ask this. But if you are still enjoying this story, please leave a review. Even if it is only a few words, just so I know people are still enjoying this story. As a writer, it just helps to reassure me :) Thanks again for reading!