Construction on the house entering week three, the freezing December weather had slowed down the men's progress given that their working days were reduced by the amount of daylight available, and so with Charles and Elsie's consent, the foreman hired an additional three men to make up for the lost time.
The only real contact the children and Elsie had with the crew was the foreman, Mr. Adams, and his assistant Nathaniel, a friendly young man in his early twenties who had taken a particular shine to the charming Carson children, spending most of his lunch breaks down near the studio where he sat outside and carved them small animals out of bits of discarded wood. Livy had especially warmed to the young man she called "Red' because of the brightly colored balaclava he always wore, and he, in turn, called her "Freckles" and had carved her a small kitten that looked like Buddy.
A lunch of pasties and fruit having been happily consumed by Nathaniel and the children, the rare and very welcome spate of sunshine to which Halifax was being treated inspired Livy to beg her mother for permission to escape the confines of Bill's warm, but small cottage.
"It's not too cold if we stay in the sunshine. May we please take Red to see the chickens, Mumma? Please?"
Elsie had just started rinsing the lunch dishes in Bill's small kitchen sink when the little girl gave a tug on her apron. "Livy, I'm sure Nathaniel doesn't want to spend his lunch break in a chicken coop.
The young man smiled from the doorway. "I don't mind, Mrs. Carson. I think they just want to run about a bit and I've still got another fifteen minutes before I am due back."
She gave him an appreciative smile. "They have been stuck inside quite a bit lately. If you don't mind…"
"I don't. Honest."
"Well, thank you. Mr. Mason is around if you need anything and I promise I'll be out to rescue you before you need to go back." Quickly bundling up the excited children, she followed them as far the door where she gave Bill a wave and shouted, "I'll come get them out of your way after I finish the dishes! They want to show Nathaniel the coop!"
The older man waved and nodded as the children tramped out across the frozen yard, Livy holding Nathaniel's hand as she began pointing at all the animals and providing their names.
Back to the studio after Nathaniel returned to his duties, the children were delighted to receive a mid-afternoon visit from Beryl who came bearing sticky buns and the post.
"There's a package here addressed to The Misses Penelope and Olivia Carson and Mr. Peter Carson."
"It's from Auntie Izzy!" Poppy announced as she read the name "Isobel Crawley" on the return.
Livy was hopping around behind her mother who was seeking out a pair of scissors. "What is it, Mumma? What is it?"
"I don't know, sweet pea, but there's only one way to find out." Pulling the shears from a glass jar on a high shelf, she then carefully sliced through the paper tape which held the large envelope closed before pulling out a stack of colorful paper, some sheets displaying painted pictures, others letters written in large childish scrawls, although one was clearly written in Isobel's neat script.
"They are from your friends at the hospital!" Elsie explained, immediately passing the letter Isobel had written to Poppy before laying out the rest of the pictures for Pete and Livy to peruse.
"Mary Ann!" Poppy's beamed as she showed the paper to Beryl. "She's my friend."
The little cook smiled. "Well that makes her pretty special in my book."
"What does it say, Pop?" Her mother asked, pulling her into her lap behind her large drafting desk.
Deep concentration on her face, Poppy took a deep breath before she began to slowly read the letter, pausing to sound out the bigger words.
Dear Penelope Joan,
Thank you for your letter and the very soft socks.Miss Isobel said they are pink. My favorite. My eyes are getting better. I can't see faces, but I can see light and I know when it is bed time because the light goes away.It makes me sad when it is bed time because it makes me remember before I could see the light. Sister Carrie said I was going to leave the hospital and go to the children's home in a few days, but Miss Isobel called the children's home and they are going to let me stay with her for Christmas because she is my friend and she said friends should be together for Christmas. I wish we could play again. You are good at playing babies. I still have my baby Trina that you gave me. I love her so much. Miss Isobel helped me write a letter to Father Christmas and I asked for a new dress for Trina because the frillies are coming loose on her dress from where I like to feel it with my fingers. I hope you are having fun on your farm and that the kittens are big enough for you to play with now. Did your mother and daddy let you keep the little white one you told me about? I miss you.
Love,
Your friend Mary Ann
"She's going to stay with Auntie Izzy, Mumma!" Poppy turned and looked up at her mother's face. "May we please go see her? Please? Pretty please?"
The news of Mary Ann's Christmas visit wasn't unexpected information to Elsie as she had found out about it earlier in the week during a phone call from Isobel, but the letter having already been dictated, they had decided to let Poppy find out in Mary Ann's own words. What neither of the little girls knew was that Isobel had received permission to travel with the child so that they could spend Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day in Halifax.
"I don't think we will get to travel to London, baby. There's so much going on with the house and with Christmas coming."
Poppy's little face fell, her shoulders slumping as she looked back down at the letter. "I won't get to see her?"
Elsie glanced up at Beryl, the little ginger woman wiping her eyes, not only because of the content of the letter, but because of the upset face of one of her chicks.
"There's no way you could go, Elsie? Not even for one day?"
"I don't think so." A wink given to her friend, Elsie tightened her embrace around Poppy's middle and murmured into her ear, "I'm sorry we can't go, sweetheart, but would it be alright with you if Auntie Izzy brought Mary Ann to spend Christmas with us?"
"Mary Ann can come to my house?" Tears filled her eyes and she let the letter fall to the floor as she turned, climbing onto her knees and wrapping her arms around Elsie's neck.
"Yes. Mary Ann can come to your house, baby. We'll take her around the farm so she can pet all the animals and she can cuddle with Hope and the other kittens and you can play and play all day." Standing up, she began to lightly bounce her weeping child, gently patting her back as she smiled through her own tears.
"Why are you crying, Poppy?" Livy asked. "Mary Ann is coming to see us. You should be happy!"
Looking over her mother's shoulder at her sister, the older twin sobbed, "This is how my happy is coming out!"
Beryl and Elsie exchanged weepy grins while Livy merely shrugged and joined her brother in looking at the paintings Raj, Colin, Julia, Arthur, and Jack had sent.
They were in the middle of bath time that evening when the phone suddenly rang.
His hand landing on her shoulder, Charles stood from his place on a small stool and assured his wife, "I've got these squirmy wormies, honey. You run. It most likely is for you."
Drying her hands on her apron as she sprinted down the corridor, lifting the receiver on the fifth ring. "Carson residence."
"Hello, little mother!"
There was a flutter in her stomach as she lowered herself into the telephone chair in anticipation of Lily giving her a decision regarding the offer she and Charles had made.
"How is everyone?"
"Happy as clams, or fish I should say. Three little fishies are splashing their daddy in the bath as we speak."
"My precious peanuts. Give them each a hundred kisses from me. Their daddy, too."
"I will," Elsie promised before taking a deep breath. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm alright. Little pains here and there, but nothing too awful. Have lost my appetite a bit which I know is worrying Purley, but goodness knows I have enough blubber that it won't hurt me to miss a meal or two."
Elsie closed her eyes as she recalled Richard mentioning loss of appetite as a sign of the cancer growing, but forced a smile onto her face as she asked, "I hope you are calling to give me some good news."
Lily was quiet for a moment, but eventually answered, her voice weary and soft. "I'm so worried you are going to regret this offer, Elsie. The doctors can't tell me much other than that things aren't going to get better. I may last a month, I may last years."
The tremble in the woman's voice triggered a lump's formation in Elsie's throat, but she swallowed hard and countered, "However long we can be with you, we want to. Louise is welcome to stay whenever you want; any visitors, anytime for that matter, for however long you want them to stay, and I told you the house is going to be set up so that you and Purley have privacy. I promise I will keep the children out of your hair and Isobel will help and Beryl and Phyllis, and Richard has been in contact with your doctor there in Whitby, so you'll be so well cared for here, Lily."
"You're so generous, sweet girl." The older woman whimpered on the other end of the line.
Elsie let out a teary laugh. "I'm not generous. I'm selfish. I need you, Lily. And Charles told me about how good you were to his mother. Joan would want us to do for you what you and Purley did for her. Let us do this, Lily. For Joan. Please, Lily. Please."
Sobs coming through the receiver faded into the background as Purley's gentle voice suddenly filled Elsie's ear. "She wants to. She wants to come and I want whatever she wants, so is it alright if we wait to come the first week of the year, little mother? I'd like to give her one more New Year's kiss here in in our little cottage, just her and me."
Her hand over the receiver, Elsie stifled her own sob before managing, "Oh, Purley, of course. Whenever you want to come. Whatever you need. You just let us know."
"Thank you, little mother. I'm ever so grateful. I'll never be able to tell you how much."
"I'm the one who is grateful. For both of you."
Purley's voice broke as he whispered, "You're such a good girl, Elsie. We love you."
Returning the receiver to the cradle, thirty-seven year old Elsie Carson wept having finally heard the words she had been waiting to hear since she was three years old.
You're such a good girl, Elsie. We love you.
Adding to the ten already working on the house, three more men were brought in for the final two weeks of construction, but neither Elsie nor the children had laid eyes on them given the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping and tree decorating, as well as a visit from Laura and Mr. Pettigrew who set a deadline for the Little Farm book when they dropped off a new set of contracts, necessitating several phone calls with Mr. Murray, not to mention Elsie and Charles spending two weekends selecting a palate of soothing colors of paint for the walls, along with purchasing rugs and suitable furniture.
The evening before the day construction was set to be completed the Carson's had prepared a small party for the men which was set up in Elsie's studio, a spread of Beryl's sandwiches, soups, cakes, pies, and cider presented on long tables, with each of the men being presented with an envelope containing a Christmas greeting and a ten pound note for those who had worked the entire construction period, five pounds for those who had been added over the last week as a show of thanks for their hard work and sacrifice in finishing the house two days early.
Not having met many of the men, Charles made a point of shaking each of their hands and offering a personal thanks with Mr. Adams by his side to make introductions.
"I think that's everyone, Mr. Carson," Adams informed him as he made glanced about the large space.
"I've one more envelope. Charles Gregory."
"Ah. One of the new fellows." Looking all about the room, the foreman finally gave up and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe he had to get home."
"You'll see he gets this?"
"Of course." Mr. Adams nodded as he accepted the envelope. "Thank you again. This is so very generous of you, Mr. Carson."
"Nonsense," Charles dismissed the statement with a shake of his head. "Elsie and I are so pleased with everything. Thank you."
"I have to say I was very happy with young Nathaniel. He proved himself to be quite an asset over the last few weeks."
Charles smiled at the mention of the young man's name. "You mean "Red."
"Ah, yes. The hat," the man answered with a laugh. "It stands out doesn't it?"
"It does, but that's also what our children call him. I think he has a very ardent admirer in Livy. It's 'Red this' and 'Red that' at our dinner table every night."
As if they knew they were the subject of the conversation, Nathaniel and Livy suddenly appeared from the far side of the room, her perched on his shoulders, the red hat falling drooping down from the back of her head.
"I'm taller than even you, Daddy!" she shouted, giggling as she leaned over to pat her father's head.
Giving her foot a tug, Charles remarked, "You must be very special, Livy Loo, if Nathaniel let you wear his hat."
Father and daughter looking at one another, Mr. Adams burst into laughter as he watched two Carson's wiggle their eyebrows at exactly the same time and in the same manner. "She may look like her lovely mother, but no one could ever doubt who her father is."
As Livy and Charles continued to make funny faces at one another, neither they, nor Mr. Adams and Nathaniel noticed the bald, clean shaven, and bespectacled man standing alone in a far corner, his figure obscured by shadow as he gazed squarely on the father and daughter, lightly tapping the outside of his thigh with a small, well-worn leather bound book.
The work crew took only a short break for lunch on their final day at the Carson's house with only the clean-up left before they would be able to call the job complete.
"I'm afraid I can't stay long," Nathaniel explained as he stuck his head into the studio where the children were waiting for him on a blanket in the floor with a lovely picnic spread laid out courtesy of Beryl.
"But Auntie Bee made you cake carrots!" Livy cried as she ran towards the young man.
"Carrot cake," Elsie explained.
"That's my favorite!"
Being led by the hand, he followed the grinning little girl to the blanket where he quickly wolfed down a series of sandwiches and a generous chunk of cake.
Livy gave his hat a gentle tug as she leaned against his shoulder and asked, "When will you come play with us again, Red?"
Nathaniel gave Elsie a quick smile before turning to the little one. "Well, Freckles, if it is alright with your Mumma and Daddy, maybe I can come out sometime and we can play with those goats you always tell me about."
"Please, Mumma?" Livy pleaded.
"Of course. The next warm spell we get or maybe even when we get some snow. Do you know how to build a snowman, Nathaniel?"
All three children turned expectantly to their guest.
"I think I do, but I would probably need some help."
All three children cried out, "Me! Me!" as Poppy and Pete crawled across the blanket and began climbing onto the young man.
"It's a shame they don't like you," Elsie teased as the quartet tumbled backwards, all giggling heartily.
Walking through a small stone archway draped in the remnants of what had been lush vines of ivy, Charles was happy to see a smile on JoMo's face as they began making their way through Belle Vue Boy's School's parking lot towards the Rover.
"You're already riding home with me, why don't you call Phyllis and ask her to meet us at our house. Stay for dinner and see the new bedrooms and conservatory. The children have been missing you. Pete has asked me every night for the last two weeks when Uncle JoMo is going to come over and play with his cricket bat and ball."
The Christmas Holiday having officially began when they had exited the large building behind them, the smaller man's mood was light and he agreed, contingent on his wife's willingness.
Elsie stuck her head into the nursery, smiling as she watched Poppy who was dressed in a tulle tutu skirt over her dress carefully drop the needle on the portable record player before joining her princess attired sister as the strains of "Sisters" from their favorite movie "White Christmas" began to play. Each holding a paper fan in front of her face, they swayed in opposite directions, singing along with Rosemary Clooney and her own sister as Pete sat attentively in front of them like a good little audience member.
Sisters, sisters, there were never such devoted sisters…
Livy turning to her right and Poppy to her left, the duo bumped into one another which led to the younger twin scowling as she reached over and stopped the player.
"You went the wrong way, Poppy!"
"You did! We go to the window and then to the door."
Livy shook her head and began to argue back when their unobserved mother spoke up. "Be sweet, girls. Make a decision together and start again. I'm going to fold and put away laundry so come and find me if you need me."
"Okay, Mumma," Pete offered over his shoulders his sisters continued to grumble.
"Be patient and kind," Elsie reminded them with a smile. "Work it out." Waiting until they each gave her a nod, she disappeared towards the other end of the house.
"To the door first, Poppy. Just go that way every time."
Frowning, the older twin plopped down in the floor. "You're not the boss, Livy."
"Work it out," Pete knowingly reminded them.
Her arms folded across her chest, Livy shot her brother and then her sister a dirty look. "I don't even want to sing with you, Poppy."
Poppy pointed her finger at Livy. "You're not being a nice girl."
"You're not be a nice girl." Strawberry curls bouncing as she stomped across the room, Livy stopped at the doorway, her arms crossed as she narrowed her eyes toward her sister. "I'm going potty and when I come back, you better be sweet, Poppy."
"You're the one who needs to be sweet!" Poppy marched over to her brother, plopping down on the floor next to him, her arm going around his shoulders as she threatened, "Or we're not going to play with you."
Growling from the back her throat, the four year old made a dramatic sweet with her princess skirt and huffed down the corridor towards her parent's room.
Climbing down from the stool in front of the sink after washing her hands, Livy had just walked back into the bedroom when she heard the hinges on one of the French doors creak.
"Excuse me, miss, but Nathaniel asked me to find you. He said he wants to see you one more time before we go."
Frightened by the strange bald man who was leaning into the room, Livy stumbled backwards, jumping as she hit the door which fell closed behind her.
"It's alright, darlin'." Pushing his thick black framed glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, he moved his hand from behind his back and produced a bright red balaclava, waiting until he could see recognition in the little girl's eyes before continuing, "See. I know your friend Nathaniel. He gave me his hat to show you that it's alright and that I'm his friend, too."
Little warning bells were going off in her head, but the sight of the familiar hat inspired her to take a few steps towards the man.
"That's a good girl. We have to hurry or we'll miss him."
Livy was at the bed when she stopped. "What's your name?"
"Charles like your daddy, but you can call me Charlie. I know your daddy, too. I've known him a long time." Reaching into his pocket with his free hand, Charlie Grigg pulled out the small leather bound book he had been holding in the shadows the night before. "See? He gave me this. It has his name in it."
Each taking a few steps towards the other, Livy was focusing on her father's recognizable handwriting and signature when the red hat was suddenly pushed down over her head and face, the man's hand covering her mouth as he grabbed a nearby quilt which he bundled her into before carrying her out through the still open French door.
Turning onto the lane off which their cottage was situated, Charles didn't recognize the solitary, beat up old lorry parked on the side of the road a hundred meters or so from the turn into the drive. "Looks like they builders have mostly gone. I really only met them last night, but they seemed like a good bunch of chaps. They've done very nice work. All we have left are the decorators early next week and the furniture, and then Lily and Purley will move in the week after New Year."
"It's a lovely thing you and Elsie are doing. I know your mother would be so pleased that you are going to help take care of Lily."
Charles nodded as he turned into the drive. "I think you're right about Mother. Lily was so good to her. Bathed her, fed her, stayed with her on the nights I couldn't be there. Means a lot to Elsie that we do this, too. Lily has been the closest thing she has ever had to a real mother. I'm just worried how she will cope when the end comes."
"Just say the word. Anything Phyllis or I can do, you know we will."
"I know and I appreciate it." Turning off the ignition, Charles hesitated before turning to JoMo. "You know you can tell me anything, don't you, Joe?"
A small, worried smile crossed the man's face as he glanced up at Charles before looking away. "Thank you. That means a lot. I know I've been a bit…off lately."
"You deserve to be happy, mate. You're a good man. A wonderful friend, and husband, and uncle, and teacher..."
Looking at his lap, JoMo muttered, "But I'll never be a father, Charles. I'll never have what you have. I'll never know what it's like to hold my own child in my arms."
Charles swallowed hard before reaching out and resting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "There are so many sweet little children in this world that need a good home and kind, caring parents. You and Phyllis have so much to offer and so much love to give and you certainly deserve to be loved in return. They might not have your eyes or Phyllis' smile, but any child would be lucky to have your love."
Sniffling, JoMo gave his head a subtle nod before clearing his throat. "I'll think about it."
Both men climbing from the car and making their way towards the front door, they stopped at the same time, Charles looking at the dining room window while JoMo stared at the front door.
"What are those, Charles? Notes from the children?"
Making his way to the window he shook his head, not believing his eyes as he focused on his own handwriting displayed on a series of small sheets of paper which had been cello-taped to the glass.
"No. It can't…"
"What? What is it?" JoMo looked back and forth between the window and the door. "There are more here on the door."
Charles' hand was visibly shaking as he stretched his fingers towards one of the papers which was lightly flapping in the light late afternoon breeze. "He took it. It's not possible…he took…"
An alarmingly pale Charles turning to look at him, JoMo reached out and grabbed his arm. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Grigg," He hissed through clenched teeth. "It's the pages from my journal he took in France. Jesus Christ. He's here. He must be here." Reaching out, he turned the door knob, relieved to find it securely locked. Shoving his keys in JoMo's hand, he pushed his friend towards the front door. "I'll make sure the new back door is locked. Lock this door behind you and then find my family. Get them locked in a room upstairs."
Struggling to get the key into the lock, he looked up at Charles. "What are you going to do?"
"Find him and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone ever again."
JoMo briefly watched Charles head towards the far side of the house before finding the right key and opening the door, stepping in and closing it behind him, his own hands shaking as he fought to secure the latch back into its locked position. Turning, he met the curious faces of Poppy and Pete who were watching him from down the corridor just outside the nursery.
"Uncle JoMo?"
"Where's your mumma, Poppy? Where's Livy?"
Poppy shrugged. "Livy went to the potty a long time ago." Her mother not appearing from the kitchen, the little one pointed towards the stairwell. "Mumma must be upstairs."
Turning and directing his voice up the stairwell, he called out, "Elsie!? Elsie it's Joe! Where are you?"
A basket of laundry on her hip, she quickly appeared at the landing. "I was putting the girls' laundry away. What is it, Joe? Where's Charles?"
"Is Livy up there with you?"
Bewildered, she stared at him. "She's not with me."
"We weren't being very nice to each other, but she was being bossy, Mumma, and then she got mad and said she was going to the potty, but she's been gone a long time." Poppy's voice had a tinge of worry as she and Pete made their way into the sitting room.
"I'm sure she's fine, baby. She's probably cuddled up with the kittens in the closet. It's her favorite hiding place." Elsie moved quickly down the stairs as JoMo rushed down the corridor and opened the cupboard door to find only a sleeping Barley, Mumma cat and her four snuggling kittens.
"She's not here! Where else would she be?"
"You're scaring me, Joe. What is it? What's going on?"
His face filled with anguish, his voice was strained as he broke the news. "Grigg. Pages from Charles' missing diary were taped to the front window and door. He's here on the farm somewhere so Charles has gone to find him. We have to find Livy and you have to go lock yourselves in a room upstairs!"
Tossing the laundry basket aside, she took off towards the master bedroom. "Livy! Baby, come out! Come out quick! We can't play games right now! Mumma needs you! Quick now! "
Surprised to find the bedroom door closed, Elsie's heart stopped when she turned the knob and was met by the shocking cold air pouring into the room through the open French door. Her eyes landing on a small, leather covered book on the floor just inside the door, she had to grab onto the bed post to keep her legs from buckling as she let out a blood curdling scream. "LIVY!"
Charles stumbled a few times as he quickly made his way down the hill towards the barns, no sign of Charlie Grigg in the vicinity of the newly constructed rooms or back garden. His stomach twisted as he considered the five outbuildings on the property which would provide the man with a myriad of hiding places, but quickly discounted Elsie's studio, the visible padlock on the main door assuring him it was secure. Passing it, he stopped briefly at Bill's cottage, banging on the door, but after receiving no answer, took off towards the small tack room just beyond the main barn which housed the majority of the animals; their relatively calm demeanors suggesting a stranger wasn't among them.
Holding his breath, he was gingerly turning the knob on the tack room door, when he suddenly froze, turning his head sharply in the direction of the cottage as he heard JoMo calling out as he sprinted down the hill.
"LIVY! SHE'S MISSING! HE HAS LIVY, CHARLES!"
I know. Cliffhanger. How much do I suck? The good news is the next chapter is 85% completed and will posted either tomorrow or Tuesday. BUCKLE. UP.
Although I am being an absolute twerp by ending this chapter here, please know how very much I appreciate your kindness and lovely reviews. So grateful. :) Jen