Chapter 5

If there was one thing Nathan had learnt from years of carrying out investigations it was how to spot an untruth. Even the most practiced of liars had tell-tale signs, usually in their eyes. There was no standard, for some it was a shift sideways, while others stared straight at you. But the one common factor was that it went against the norm. He knew that Chloe was lying about something, most probably her involvement with the starting of the fire. Now he had to tread carefully to work out what she was trying to hide or, more importantly, who she was protecting.

Handing her his handkerchief he waited while Lillian helped her dry her eyes, refilling the glass with water so that she could take a sip and compose herself a little. He had to remember that she was only eleven years old, yet underneath this show of fear and upset he still sensed that band of steel running through her. What had made this girl so defensive?

Finally she handed the glass back and after a final dab at her face she scrunched the handkerchief up and put it in her pocket. There was a look of defiance on her face as she did that, almost challenging him to say something about it belonging to him. He stayed silent, his face impassive. This was not going to be easy but he knew that patience was the key and now that Allie was here in Brookfield he had all the time in the world to find out the truth.

"Can you tell me what you mean by that Chloe? What is all your fault? What did you do?" He watched her shift her eyes downwards and knew she was working out what to say, so leaning back in his chair he made it clear that he was in no hurry. "Take your time", was all he said, not wanting to give any indication that he already doubted what she would tell him.

Silence hung in the room for a while, the only sound the ticking of the clock above the fireplace. It was a dark marble piece with gold columns either side, reminding Nathan of one his mother had in the lounge when he was a child. Then one day it was gone but nothing was said. It was only later that he discovered it was yet another thing his father had sold to pay off his gambling debts.

Finally Chloe looked up, the vulnerability back again on her face. Lillian remained quiet beside her, the girl no longer clasping tight to her hand although she still remained close enough to be touching. There had been quite a number of children pass through the orphanage over the past few years, some traumatised from their experience but most just very lost and sad until they realised that there was enough love here for them all. But there was something different about Chloe and Lillian didn't envy Nathan having to work it out. For now all she could do was be here, supporting both of them in different ways, hoping that the final outcome would be something this young girl could live with.

Straightening up Chloe started to speak, her voice clear and her manner almost calm. "I started the fire. I was angry with my father for saying that I couldn't have my own pony for Christmas so I took the tin of paraffin out of the cupboard and poured it on the plant by the front door. Then I ignited some rolled up paper from the embers in the stove and lit the fire. It was only burning a little when I went back upstairs to bed and I thought that my parents would smell it and put it out. I just wanted to teach them a lesson."

Nathan watched the throbbing at her temple and noticed that underneath her apron her hands were fidgeting as she spoke. Was this because she was feeling guilt and remorse? Or perhaps it was her nerves as she stumbled over the lie she was telling. Whichever, she was doing a good job of hiding what she was really thinking.

"Which side of the door was the plant?" This was a straightforward question and one she should be able to answer easily, after all she must have passed it numerous times every day. But when a person is lying they often stumble over the simplest facts and this was what he was hoping to see happen here. He had a feeling that once she knew she had been caught out it would be more difficult to keep up the pretense.

When the girl hesitated before answering it was enough for Nathan to be certain that she was lying. Now came the hard part, finding out why. Before he could speak there was a knock on the door, something he had expressly asked would not happen. Whomever it was would not like what he had to say.

In the kitchen the last of the dishes from lunch were being put away. Elizabeth had struggled to suppress a giggle when Abigail had marched into the lounge and thrust a dishtowel into Lucas's hands, proclaiming that if he was going to hang around then he needed to make himself useful. The stupefied expression on his face was something she would never forget and one thing he wisely seemed to remember from the time Abigail was in Hope Valley was that it was wise not to argue with her. With only one breakage and a number of scowls from Mrs Winter he completed his task, looking more like someone who had been in the ring with Tommy Burns than his usual dapper self by the time he finished.

The housekeeper had been unsure whether to set a place for the three who were shut up in the office but Bill and Gabe quickly told her no, suggesting that she plate up something for them and keep it warm. They realised she had missed the moment in the lounge when Nathan had asked not to be disturbed once he started talking with Chloe. It was so easy for the flow of the conversation to be broken at a crucial point and he was not willing to risk that. As cruel as it may sound, they also knew that feeling hungry often helped to loosen the mouth of many people.

Lunch had been stew, filled with some of the meat and vegetables sent over from Hope Valley with Elizabeth. Most of this had been added to the cold store dug into the floor of the barn, which other than canning was a way of making them last, a necessity with so many mouths to feed. On the opposite side of the hallway from the kitchen by the back door there was a larder where hams were hung, sacks of flour and grains were stacked on the shelves while potatoes and other root vegetables were stored in crates along the walls. Tonight they would have soup, made from what was left of the stew so as to stretch out their supplies, followed by the apple pies that had been cooling on the marble table since they came out of the oven this morning.

Lucas had made a show of bringing in his contribution from The Queen of Hearts, like a small boy seeking approval as he presented the basket of pates and cheeses to Mrs Winter, along with bags of exotic fruits such as kumquats and persimmon. So proud was he of this that he didn't notice the turning up of her mouth at the corners as she very politely thanked him and suggested that perhaps they should keep those for the adults on Christmas Day. It was only when he had left the room that she allowed herself to laugh, looking at Abigail as if to ask "is he all there"?

All but the teenage children were soon ready for a sleep, full tummies and fresh winter air having done enough to tire them out. Abigail and Elizabeth joined Grace in the lounge, settling the young ones on the large cushions placed across from the fire, the two littlest in the cots in the corner and the oldest of them curled up together on the sofas. Allie sat on the floor, her back resting against Elizabeth's knees, while Little Jack was tucked into her side. This feels so right, Elizabeth thought, being together like this. She looked towards the closed door to the hallway, knowing that Nathan was not far away. She could almost feel his presence and found herself imagining evenings like this when they would sit together as a family. She tried to imagine the same with Lucas but the picture eluded her. Even if he was willing she couldn't imagine having the same life with him and in that moment she understood why. She didn't love him.

Yes it was nice to be feted, wined and dined in the way she had been accustomed to in Hamilton. But she had left that behind for a simpler life, one where listening and being there for each other was more important than fancy meals and gifts. Had she been so scared to commit to someone who would give her the same things that Jack did because she was afraid of losing them? Had she pushed Nathan away one time too many for him to be willing to give her another chance? She knew that she would have to take the first step, be honest with him about her feelings and why she had behaved as she had for some time. Fear had a way of shutting down so much of who you were, like a protective shell around your heart.

She and Abigail had poured out their feelings to each other this morning, for the first time each admitting what they had been fighting inside for so long. She wondered if things would have been different if Abigail had not had to go away. It was impossible to ever hide anything from her friend who had a way of seeing not just what you wanted but what you needed. Her words of wisdom earlier had cut through so much of what had been holding Elizabeth back. "You need to be kind to yourself," she had said, "for it is hard to love two people at once. But since you have known loss you will also have a greater understanding of love. Don't waste that. It will be difficult some of the time, you will doubt so much and it will take a very special person to take that journey with you. I think you have found that one, don't let him go."

There was a moment then when it seemed as though Abigail was talking to herself and so Elizabeth waited, feeling something change inside of her as she realised that it was time. When Jack had written those final words telling her to open her heart to love again he would have meant her whole heart. He was a man who loved deeply, selfless in what he would want for her. She realised that she could use those same words to describe Nathan. Both men wore their hearts out in the open, giving everything of themselves to those they loved.

Finally she spoke, "I think you have too. You let him slip away once before, now it is time to make that right. The man loves you Abigail, it is written on his face every time he looks at you. God has given you another chance and you need to take it."

Now as they sat listening to Grace reading a chapter from A Christmas Carol, words that she had heard ascribed to Charles Dickens came to mind. But I am sure that I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round…as a good time, a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time, the only time I know of in the long calendar of the year when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely.

She looked across at Abigail, her arms around a child on either side but her mind clearly somewhere else. If neither of them did this now when would they? She wondered if she should speak to Bill again, put the idea into his mind that sometimes things aren't quite as cut and dried as we think. That life is full of second chances and it would be foolish to ignore it when so much happiness could be found. So much love.

On the other side of the room Abigail was half listening to the story being read out loud, her mind also going back over the conversation she had with Elizabeth this morning. Was she too old to be thinking about romance? Especially with a man set in his ways from having been alone for so long? Thinking of their times together in the café she remembered how much they had fought over silly things, but was that simply because they were trying so hard to repress the feelings they had for each other. Was she brave enough to find out?

Seeing Elizabeth sitting so contentedly with the Allie and Little Jack she had a sudden sense of right. This is what her friend deserved, this simple happiness in life. Some people may not agree but she knew there were no airs and graces about Elizabeth once you stripped back the protective layers she had built around herself. She had seen her blossom with Jack's love and nothing would make her happier to see that happen again. Should she speak to Nathan, ask him to give her another chance?

Her reverie was broken as the little one to her left shifted around and Grace's words grew clear again. Most of the children were sleeping, only the older ones sitting captured by the description of Tiny Tim as he entered on his father's shoulders, his crutch in one hand and his limbs supported by an iron frame. There were little gasps as they pictured the young boy, wondering what it must be like not to be able to run and play as they could. Grace's voice cracked a little as she continued, with Mr Cratchit's reply to his wife's question on how their son had behaved making them all go still. "As good as gold, said Bob, and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church because he was a cripple and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day who made lame beggars walk and blind men see".

Grace paused then, not sure whether to continue but looking around the room she knew that those still listening understood the meaning of this. Often it was the ones with the least who gave the most, had the strongest faith and cared for others without thought for themselves. Having seen so much kindness offered to the young Scott children over recent weeks she knew that God was working here through all of them. And these children were so much like Tiny Tim, seeing the good in the world despite their own hardship.

Just as she was about to continue a shout could be heard from the hallway, rousing some of the little ones who began to cry. "Bouchard! What part of do not disturb did you not understand?"