Rose Rivers Read online

  ‘Still, Mr Dolly was delighted, because the baby doll was very expensive. Your papa proved to be an excellent customer. He bought a doll’s-house family for Clarrie and even insisted on a doll for little Phoebe. I helped him choose this time,’ said Clover. ‘It’s small enough for her to grasp, but not so small that she could swallow it. It’s wooden – very stoutly jointed and unpainted, because Phoebe will suck things so …’ Clover paused.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I’m just wondering if my own baby brother, Bert, remembers me at all. I carried him around everywhere. He used to suck my fingers,’ she said softly.

  I wondered what it must feel like to lose contact with your family. I don’t think I’d mind as much as Clover. I shall try to make a bit of a fuss of her tomorrow. I have a special present for her.

  When I was little, Miss Rayner encouraged me to make presents for Mama and Papa. I spent hours and hours knitting comforters and constructing cross-stitch purses, and they always received them with delight, even Mama – but as I grew older I realized that Mama never once used her purse or her blotter or her glove holder, and Papa wore his knitted items for only a day or two, and then managed to ‘lose’ them.

  I can’t say I blamed them. My handicraft skills are frightful, in spite of Miss Rayner’s encouragement. I once gave the worst of my purses to her because I’d managed to misspell the greeting on the front. I knew Mama would scoff if I presented her with a purse saying Merry Chistmas. I’d run out of red thread too, so half the message was in green. It was probably the worst home-made Christmas present in the world, and yet Miss Rayner seemed thrilled with it. She still keeps it in her bag.

  I wondered about getting up and making Miss Rayner a proper purse with a sentimental message sewn on the front – maybe Best Governess in the World, even though she isn’t. But I won’t be seeing her until after we come back from our trip to Dundee. I decided it could wait. Maybe I will make it on the long train journey. Or maybe I won’t. I’m often full of good intentions, but rarely act on them.

  At least I’ve got Clover’s present ready. I’m going to give her my coloured pencils. They aren’t new, but I’ve sharpened them all and tied a ribbon round the box.

  WE HAD THE usual early-morning Christmas Parade. Papa gets up first and comes to the nursery in his nightshirt and dressing gown. He is always respectably covered, but the very idea alarms Nurse. She gets up even earlier and puts on her corset underneath her nightgown and pins up her hair, and then climbs back into bed and pretends to be asleep. She rubs her eyes and acts surprised when Papa comes bouncing in, but she doesn’t fool anyone. She’s always changed and fed the current baby of the family too, so that it isn’t damp and screaming when Papa plucks it out of its cot.

  This was Phoebe’s first time as the star of the ceremony. She behaved perfectly, chuckling happily as Papa lifted her up to give her a Christmas kiss. Then he took her to the next youngest, Clarrie, who was also feigning sleep, quivering with excitement under her eiderdown. He bent down and helped Phoebe to give her elder sister a Christmas kiss. I was watching slyly from the doorway, feeling surprisingly fond of them all, even when Algie baulked at kissing poor Sebastian and made a silly rude noise instead.

  It was Sebastian’s task to wake Beth – but none of us knew how that would turn out. No one had warned Nurse Budd about our family tradition. She leaped out of bed, outraged, her nightcap lopsided, looking so comical that we couldn’t help sniggering.

  ‘Mr Rivers! What is the meaning of this!’ she demanded.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Nurse Budd. This is our special Christmas Parade. We have come to wake Beth with a kiss. I’m sorry we startled you,’ said Papa.

  ‘Oh my goodness, Mr Rivers! What a pity no one warned me. Still, Merry Christmas to you all. Could you wait a couple of minutes while I prepare Miss Beth? She finds it hard to manage surprises. I’m sure you understand,’ she said, and she shut the door in our faces.

  Papa frowned but stood there meekly.

  ‘Take no notice, Papa! Let’s go straight in,’ I said.

  ‘I can’t, Rose! Perhaps Nurse Budd is performing some private ablution,’ he replied. ‘We’ll be patient for five minutes.’

  When Nurse Budd opened the door, she was still in her nightgown, but she’d changed her nightcap for a nurse’s cap. Beth was awake, but still lying in bed, licking her lips. Perhaps she’d already been given her dose of Godfrey’s Cordial. Sebastian went up to her and blew her a kiss. Beth looked worried, but was distracted by Montmorency, who was peeping out of his nightshirt pocket. She started twitching her own nose in imitation.

  At that point I flew back to my room so that she would find me in bed. Papa led her along the corridor, and she sidled through the door, looking down at the carpet. She wouldn’t come over and kiss me, but when all the other children made encouraging kissing noises, she copied them, smacking her lips together.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Rose,’ they chorused on Beth’s behalf.

  Then I had to lead the way to Rupert’s room. He seemed genuinely asleep, and lay sprawled on his back, hair tousled, mouth open.

  ‘Oh, let’s drop a penny in his mouth as if he’s a slot machine!’ Algie chortled.

  Rupert woke up and seized hold of him. He turned him upside down – not a pretty sight as he wore nothing beneath his nightgown. Then Rupert led the parade to our parents’ bedroom.

  They don’t usually share this room any more. Papa uses the bed in his dressing room instead. He moved there when Mama had Phoebe, and he’s stayed there ever since. But now he climbed into the big bed beside Mama and we all piled in as well.

  Mama must have got up earlier too, because she smelled of cologne, her hair was carefully brushed, falling past her shoulders like a young girl’s, and her nightgown was fresh and uncrumpled. She looked surprisingly pretty. She played along with the kissing game, sighing happily when Rupert kissed her cheek.

  ‘Happy Christmas, my dear boy,’ she said. ‘It’s so lovely to have you home again. My own family, all together!’ She kissed Papa and then each of us in turn. I clung to her for a few seconds, wishing she could always be like this, so soft and warm and playful.

  ‘The stockings, the stockings, the stockings!’ Algie clamoured, rushing over to the fireplace. Six woollen stockings hung there side by side, with one little sock for Phoebe. Previously they’d hung from our own bedposts, but last year Algie had run riot at two in the morning, opening not only his stocking but everyone else’s too.

  Algie snatched them down now and distributed them. My stocking contained a little purse, a handkerchief, a plaster rabbit, a tin of toffees, an orange and a handful of nuts. The others had similar small trinkets. Phoebe’s sock contained a tiny blue stuffed monkey, a rusk, a soft hairbrush and a little silver bell.

  Beth took a fancy to the bell. She snatched it and rang it again and again.

  ‘No, Beth, no!’ said Mama. ‘Perhaps we should send her back to Nurse Budd.’

  ‘Let her play with it if she wants,’ Papa said quickly. ‘I’m sure Phoebe doesn’t mind.’

  Phoebe seemed content to suck the end of her hairbrush instead. Mama said the constant ringing was giving her a headache, but at least it kept Beth quiet until breakfast time.

  After we’d eaten our bacon and eggs we had our main presents in the drawing room. The servants joined us too. Papa dressed up as Father Christmas, with a false beard – Algie kept trying to pull it off. He’d stored the big presents in the boot room, and led us all down there blindfold before revealing the exciting packages. There was a great to-do as they were all brought upstairs by Mr Hodgson and Jack Boots. I took advantage of the general fuss to wish Clover a happy Christmas and thrust the box of crayons at her.

  ‘Oh, Rose! Sorry, Miss Rose!’ she said, her green eyes filling with tears as she peeped inside the wrapping.

  ‘Run and hide them, quickly,’ I said.

  Clover was back in time for the start of the family present-giving. As she pass