White Christmas - a short story Read online

White Christmas

  By EH Walter

  Copyright 2011 EH Walter

  White Christmas

  The smells from the kitchen were almost overpowering, roasted meats of every variety, vegetables draped in thick butter, the Christmas pudding steaming in its spices. The effect was intoxicating and even Felicity found herself smiling.

  "Does all go well Mrs Carr?" she asked the cook who was almost hidden under the sweat gleaming over her face. She was busy with the main meal as her kitchen maids prepared the breakfasts. It was almost as if Christmas was just about the food - at least it was all about the food for Mrs Carr, this was her biggest day of the year.

  Mrs Carr frowned. Felicity knew the woman disapproved of her, the youngest housekeeper anyone had heard of. No matter that she was also the best housekeeper in London. It seemed some people made all their judgements on age, not experience and expertise. No matter. Felicity had grown with this family since she was eleven and had risen through the ranks. She knew she was good at her job. When the old housekeeper died suddenly, Felicity found herself temporarily promoted and then, after a few months, it was as if she had always been in the job. Of course the old master might have tried to appoint an older woman, but the young master was running things now as his father devoted himself entirely to a retirement of hunting and fishing. This house was his son's now, as were all the happenings in it.

  "It's as expected," Mrs Carr snapped, "now out of my kitchen and leave me to my business if you please."

  Felicity was more than happy to leave, she had plenty of other business to attend to herself. It was Christmas morning after all and the young mistress would want to check all was going to plan, this was her first Christmas at the helm of the family after all and she had exacting standards to follow - the de Veyney Christmases were famous all over the country.

  The one thing that would make it perfect would be snow, but when Felicity stuck her head out of the back door the sky had not looked promising.

  The breakfast trays had gone up, there would be no formal breakfast this morning to enable all to ready themselves for the big day. The servants needed time to set up the dining hall and cook the mammoth feast . The family had to ready themselves for church.

  As a child Felicity had found the steps from the bottom of the house to the top made her breathless, these days they posed no problem and she bounded up the servants' staircase in leaps of two at a time, only slowing to a more refined pace when in the family's section of the house. She was the perfect servant in every way.

  She caught the maid about to enter the young mistress's bed chamber and took the tray from her.

  "Go assist with the young misses," she suggested. The young master's sisters always tried to look their best for church on Christmas morning, as they never knew who would be home for the holidays and they were of an age, and had been for some time now, that made them keen for male company and attention. They had best be married off soon to save them from themselves, Felicity thought.

  Felicity skilfully balanced the heavy tray in one hand and knocked gently on the thick wooden door before entering. The mistress would be asleep still, she didn't ever stir until the morning sun hit her pillow.

  Inside the room Felicity put down the tray on the lacquered dressing table and went to the windows, drawing the heavy curtains that had enclosed the room in darkness. She still thought it strange, even after living here for fifteen years, that her betters slept separately from each other. If she thought of her parents and siblings all crowded into the one room and compared it to this lot, it seemed very strange indeed. Why would a man not want his wife by his side every night? At least they made use if all the rooms in this large house. And of course, the young master and mistress didn't have an entirely normal relationship - she had been the sister of his dearest friend and that was why he had married her. Despite that, he was a good and caring husband, better than many of his class that Felicity had seen at first hand, she had occasion to fight off enough of their attentions over the years to know.

  As the morning light hit her face the young mistress muttered and turned over in bed.

  "Morning madam," Felicity said and fetched the tray to place in front of the young woman. The breakfast trays did look beautiful this morning, she had to give that credit to Mrs Carr's management, each one garlanded with festive holly and scattered with paper snow. Everyone in this house, including the servants, loved Christmas - it was the best day of the year. And tomorrow the servants all got to visit their families and take gifts with them. All except Felicity and the cook that was. Mrs Carr had no family and Felicity found visits to her own family too depressing, she was of more use here anyway. Here she knew what her place was.

  "Is it morning already?" the mistress asked, "It was such a late night it barely seems possible. I'm sure I got no more than a wink of sleep."

  It had been a late night for the staff too, except they did not have the chance to sleep in to compensate, and neither would they expect it.

  "Christmas morning madam," she said. "Now eat your breakfast or Mrs Carr will be most upset. You will need all your strength for the festivities today."

  She helped the mistress to a sitting position and plumped he pillows up behind her. She was such a bony one. She would need all the strength possible for the long day ahead with the family and friends. The number at dinner alone was expected to be thirty and there would be more arriving in the evening.

  When had she started treating the mistress like a child? It was hard not to, she had such an innocence and naivety about her and it was not like the mistress minded, she seemed to find it reassuring, as if she was content for someone else to take charge. She had been an indulged younger sister and now she was an indulged young wife.

  "You are so good to me Felicity," the mistress always called her this when they were alone and sometimes slipped up in public too. All housekeepers were called 'Mrs' even if they weren't married, such as Felicity, as a mark of respect for their position.

  "Nonsense madam, now eat up."

  The mistress reached out a slender hand and grasped Felicity's wrist. Her eyes looked directly into her own.

  "No Felicity, I know how good you are to me - truly I do."

  Felicity smiled neutrally, it really didn't do to get too involved with the family - that had been the hardest lesson she had learnt as an eleven year old. She had been whipped for playing with the young master. He had never forgiven himself for that one and the marks were still clear on her back. Just thinking about it made the old scars tingle.

  "Will the day be good?"

  "It will be the best Christmas ever Madam."

  The young woman smiled. She knew the family would be watching her, comparing her to her mother in law.

  "If that's all madam, I must get back to my jobs. Ring for the maid when you wish to dress."

  "Of course, of course. I did not mean to keep you."

  Felicity checked all the maids were in their appointed position, then it was time for her and Mr Jakes, the butler, to meet with the young master to discuss the day. They would only have a few minutes with him before the family left for church. They met, as usual, in the masters' private sitting room. It was a room that was slowly changing to reflect his tastes and not his father's; gone were the cases of stuffed fish and in were the books.

  He sat at the desk, they stood before him.

  There was not a trace of the young boy in the man. He had worries on his mind and a house and business interests to run. That in itself was enough to age anyone.

  "Anything unexpected?" he asked.

  "No sir," the butler replied.

  "It is still thirty
for dinner?" Felicity asked.

  It was then she saw a glimmer of the boy. He smiled awkwardly. His dark eyes twinkled.

  "My cousin Jasper didn't manage to find his way home after the supper party. I think we had best plan him into the celebrations."

  "Very well sir, that should not cause a problem."

  He did not need to say any more. The servants were all used to picking up after the master's cousin Jasper. The party last night had started as a civilised affair with the reading of Mr Dickens' A Christmas Carol, but of course - when the sexes parted after supper - the men had drunk the best port saved for this time of year and smoked enough cigars to fumigate a small