On Christmas Day

  A family at breaking point. A nation at war…

  1914. Young Lexi doesn’t want much – just her family’s happiness. She’s been working all the hours she can at the local sweet shop to help her mother lift her little brother and sister out of poverty. Maybe one day, if she tries hard enough, they can save enough to leave their tiny, cramped flat – and terrifying landlord, Mr McCann – behind. Although Lexi can’t help but wish her friendship with the landlord’s son, Johnny, could turn into something more.

  They say it will all be over by Christmas. But with the country still at war when the snow begins to fall, Lexi turns all her attention to making the sweet shop’s windows cheery, and keeping her family’s sprits high. And, with courage, she might one day manage to give her family a magical Christmas, the like of which they never dared to dream of…

  On Christmas Day

  Rosie James

  ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

  Born in Bristol of Welsh parentage, ROSIE JAMES has always been a compulsive writer, her early enthusiasm kept alive by winning the occasional childhood literary prize, and much later by seeing her articles and short stories published. She is a trained singer, and as a lyric coloratura soprano, her roles include many in opera, operetta and oratorio, her church choir music taking her to many parts of Europe. She enjoys theatre, eating out with friends, and she entertains regularly at home – slightly hindered by her new, very lively puppy, who insists on digging up all her plants and chasing birds, squirrels, and neighbours’ cats. She has three grown-up children, and six grandchildren who regularly visit with their parents and who still expect to play paper and pencil games after the meal. Rosie lives in Somerset.

  Contents

  Cover

  Blurb

  Title Page

  Author Bio

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  March 1914At ten minutes to seven, and using her key to open the door, Lexi entered the sweet shop, the familiar, mouth-watering smell making her smile. To fourteen-year-old Lexi, it was like coming home, because during the summer holidays last year she’d been entrusted to run the place during the lunch hour each day so that the owner, Miss Jean Lewis, could have a rest. And the responsibility had been just up Lexi’s street – though she’d had to beg her mother to let her take the little job. Cecilia Martin was very protective of her three children and had tried to dissuade her elder daughter from entering the world of work too soon.

  But Lexi had been determined, and had worked for the whole five weeks for a couple of hours each day, learning quickly along the way. Miss Lewis was a generous employer, and soon Lexi’s little cardboard box which held her pocket money had begun to feel quite heavy.

  But now Lexi had left school for the last time – despite her mother’s pleas that she should stay on longer. But why, Lexi had argued, why didn’t her mother want her to grow up? Cecilia still had Phoebe, six, and Joe, three, to coddle and fuss over.

  Then, as if it was meant to be, Miss Lewis had advertised for part-time help once again – which is why Lexi was back where she felt she truly belonged - behind the counter of the town’s prosperous little sweet shop. And her hours, from 7 to 10 in the morning and again from noon to 2 in the afternoon - plus the occasional extra hour in the evening to help with stock-taking - fitted in perfectly with all the domestic chores which Lexi did each day for her mother. Washing and ironing, sweeping and cleaning, and looking after the younger ones while Cecilia worked three nights a week at the laundry as well as toiling away each day at their scrubbed wooden table with her Singer sewing machine, mending, altering, patching, the turning of bed sheets sides to middle for all the hotels and guesthouses. Cecilia’s meticulous handiwork was how she kept her family fed and the rent paid. Her husband, Albert, a travelling salesman, was away far more than he was at home, his irregular contributions to the family purse leaving Cecilia the main bread winner - a role she accepted without complaint and with certain pride. Unlike many of the poor in the area who would let their children run around all hours of the day and night in hand-me-down shoes, or no shoes at all, Cecilia protected her children with the determination of a tigress, and all in all, she considered herself luckier than most. She was a decent citizen of Bath, never in debt, and bringing up well-mannered children, while many others barely existed, relying on parish relief to just about stay alive. Yet despite that, a lot of the women smoked, their men often coming home drunk

  Now, Lexi took off her coat and scarf and tied her neat green shop apron around her waist. Then she glanced around her, noting that as usual, Miss Lewis had left everything in place for the day’s trading.

  It was quite a dark little shop, but brought to sparkling life by the rows and rows of fat glass jars all up there on the shelves … full of boiled sweets, toffees, bulls’ eyes, aniseed balls, hundreds and thousands, chocolate drops, and sticks of liquorice to dip into sherbet. The cigarettes and tobacco were always kept high up on a shelf.

  Turning, Lexi unlocked the small safe under the counter and took out the bags containing all the coins, emptying the money into each little compartment ready to receive the day’s takings. Any pound or ten shilling notes were tucked in safely at the back.

  Handling money had never been a problem for Lexi and she didn’t need to count on her fingers to work out the right change. And weighing up 1 oz or 2 oz or a quarter pound of things, was part of the fun of the job. Instinctively, Lexi moved the heavy weights of the scales to form a neat pile on the counter, then took a cloth to give the shallow brass pans a quick wipe-over. The little dustpan and brush kept for clearing up any spillage of sugar or sherbet was there on the side. Miss Lewis liked everything kept nice and tidy which was something else that came easily to Lexi. She did plenty of that at home

  Any early customers were the children spending their farthing or half penny pocket money on their way to the nearby school – the school which Lexi had only recently left and which Phoebe now went to and Joe would, too, next year – but not many children had money for sweets. It was largely men coming in for their cigarettes or tobacco.

  But this little shop held far greater significance for Lexi than finding her first real job, because it was here that she’d made her very first purchase with her own money – money earned singing carols outside public houses a couple of Christmases ago. Somehow, she’d found the courage to do this entirely by herself and hadn’t told a soul, not even Johnny who was her best friend. She and Johnny didn’t usually have secrets from each other, but Lexi had wanted to do this alone, had thought it important to stand on her own two feet. The pubs and beer houses had been
full of men on that cold morning, all spilling out on to the pavements as they’d toasted the festive season, and nearly all of them had put something, a copper or two, into the enamel mug which Lexi had held out hopefully.

  Lexi loved music, loved to sing, knew every carol by heart as well as all the popular songs which her Dada had taught her as he accompanied her on his harmonica or banjo when he was home. And she’d always been the one chosen to sing solo at school, her clear treble voice reaching the top notes like a bell.

  But the sole purpose for her carol singing that day had been so that she could buy her mother a beautiful present.

  Lexi had seen the little beaded purse here, in the sweet shop window for several weeks and had made up her mind that, somehow, she would find the money to pay for it. As well as the confectionery always on display, Miss Lewis did sometimes buy small gifts to put in the window, especially at Christmas time - jewelled trinket boxes, pretty handkerchief sachets, ladies’ dainty ivory fans – but it was the beaded purse which had caught Lexi’s eye. And as the money had clinked into her mug while she’d gone on singing, it had made her realize that if she was determined, and worked hard, she could get whatever she wanted. And the moment there’d been enough money to buy the present, and even some left over to buy sweets for her sister and brother, had been the moment when Lexi had made her big decision.

  One day, she was going to be rich – perhaps even as rich as Mr McCann.

  Mr McCann was Johnny’s dad, and he not only owned property all over Bath – including their ancient cottage in the run-down rank of dwellings on the edge of town – he was also a money lender, charging high interest. Most people were afraid of him, calling him “Foxy McCann” behind his back. But Cecilia said that was very disrespectful and that he must have worked extremely hard for his money. He was certainly never called Foxy in their house.

  Lexi knew that she loved Johnny almost as much as she loved her brother and sister. Johnny used to go the same school as Lexi, and on her very first week, after she’d fallen down in the playground, there’d suddenly been this boy helping her up and dabbing her grazed knee with his clean white handkerchief. And as she’d gazed up into those kind dark eyes her tears had stopped almost at once. And that had been the start of a friendship which had grown stronger with every year that passed.

  Now at almost sixteen years old, Johnny was nearly as tall as his brother Alfred who was two years older. But Alfred was not nearly as nice as Johnny. In fact, Alfred could be quite horrible at times. Johnny was never horrible and had the sort of face you wanted to keep looking at, a smiley, kind face, surrounded by soft black curls. All the girls loved Johnny but he was Lexi’s best friend so no one else got a look in. Lexi hated the thought that he would soon be going away to college, like Alfred, because that would mean they’d only see each other during the holidays.

  Johnny and Alfred lived with their dad in the big house at the far end of the street called Grey Gables. Everyone knew that their mama had died a long time ago and Lexi was really sorry about that, because she and Phoebe and Joe had a mother and a father – even if he didn’t come home very often. It must be awful not to have a mama to look after you.

  One of the worst things about Johnny’s dad was that he had a very loud voice, which sometimes made Lexi shake inside. And he never smiled, probably because his twirly moustache got in the way, or perhaps it was because he always walked with a limp and so his legs hurt. He was also very tall so that Lexi had to bend her head right back to look up at his face – which wasn’t often because she tried to make sure he was out when she visited Johnny at their house.

  Despite being a bit afraid of him, Lexi couldn’t help admiring Mr McCann and was determined that she, too, would work hard and be successful like him, and she wouldn’t care if people called her names because one day she was going to earn her way to the very top of the world. She wasn’t too sure how she was going to make that happen, she only knew that one day she would.

  And Lexi Martin certainly had plans.

  First of all she was going to buy them a house of their own so that they would never have to pay rent ever again. Thanks to her mother’s tireless working hours they were never late paying their rent – but many people weren’t so lucky and were sometimes evicted when they couldn’t find the money in time. Lexi knew all about this because quite often she would go with Johnny on the rounds when he collected the rents for his father, taking her turn in carrying the strong leather bag which held all the money. Johnny always gave her a penny from the tiny wage he received for the Friday evening task. And later, whenever Mr McCann was safely out of the way, the two of them would go upstairs to the study at Grey Gables to lock away the rents and they’d sometimes take it in turns to sit in the huge leather chair by the desk and swing each other round and round until they were dizzy. Once or twice they’d even played shove ha’penny because the desk was just the right size. But Lexi only ever went upstairs at the big house when Mr McCann was away.

  It was getting on for ten o’clock when Miss Lewis came through from her living quarters to take over. Lexi glanced at her quickly, thinking how pretty the owner must have been when she was young. She was a small, dainty woman, her thick hair, which would once have been dark brown, was now almost all grey and held on top in a neat bun. She had a ready smile and shrewd grey eyes which always lit up when she was speaking to anyone – especially to children.

  ‘Oh Lexi,’ she said, ‘it is so lovely to have you here again, my dear! Thanks to you, I don’t have such an early start in the mornings, and I’m also able to have a hot dinner and a bit of a rest at midday.’ She tutted. ‘I really should not have waited this long before seeking more permanent help, but after my sister died I felt it was my duty to keep the business going exactly as she would have wanted. It had always been just the two of us, you see. We bought the shop together many years ago, long before you were born, Lexi – and I haven’t felt able to bring a stranger in, if you know what I mean.’

  Lexi nodded. She had never seen anyone else behind the counter of the well-known sweet shop.

  ‘But for some reason you have never felt like a stranger, Lexi,’ Jean Lewis went on. ‘You have always been one of our regular customers, of course, but from the moment you came in to buy that Christmas present for your mother I felt I knew you, I felt I knew the sort of person you were. The sort of person who I could get along with … perhaps like the daughter I never had.’ The owner looked away for a moment. ‘Neither my sister nor I ever married, so no sons or daughters for us, I’m afraid,’ she added.

  Lexi sensed Miss Lewis’s sadness and said quickly, ‘Well, I loved being here last year, and am enjoying every single moment of working for you now, Miss Lewis. I’ll be very happy to help with stock-taking again, any evening you would like me to, and the time just flies when I’m behind the counter.’

  Jean Lewis nodded. ‘That’s because we see so many different customers, isn’t it? We soon get to know the ones we hope will call on us again, and those who are more difficult to please. But you got the hang of things straightaway and have an excellent attitude Lexi … which is essential in the business world.’ The owner raised one eyebrow. ‘And you are far quicker adding up than I am! When we’re doing a count I find it hard to keep up with you and your young brain!’

  Lexi smiled happily. ‘I love figure work and have never found it difficult.’ She paused, then said, ‘One day, Miss Lewis, I am going to have a business of my own because I want to make enough money to buy us a house, a really nice house. For my mother and my sister and brother.’ There was a brief silence before Lexi went on slowly. ‘You see, my father can’t help because he’s not often at home – his work takes him away all the time. So – I’ve decided that it’s up to me to earn all I can as soon as possible and working for you, here, is the start of that long climb up the ladder to succeed in my aim.’

  Miss Lewis’s eyes softened at Lexi’s enthusiasm and obvious loyalty to her family. She knew very little about
the girl’s background but was only too aware that there were plenty of absent fathers who left their work-weary wives to shoulder the parental burden. She touched Lexi’s shoulder.

  ‘Well, if I am any judge of character, Lexi, I am sure you will succeed in whatever you do. Any employer will be extremely fortunate to have you on their books, and if I have one word of advice it’s that you continue to have faith in yourself, faith in your ability. Hold your head up high, and be proud. If you believe in yourself, others will believe in you.’

  Just then, as Lexi was preparing to leave, the door opened and a large man entered. Removing his trilby hat, he came forward.

  ‘Good morning Miss Lewis!’ he exclaimed heartily, ‘And can I have 4 oz of my usual Capstan, please?’

  ‘Of course, and good morning Councillor Larson,’ Jean Lewis replied, reaching up for the tobacco.

  As Lexi moved towards the door to leave, the man frowned suddenly and put a hand out to stop her. ‘Just a moment,’ he said. ‘I know you, young lady, don’t I?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Lexi faltered. She’d never seen him before.

  ‘You are the girl with the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard!’ the man went on. ‘You sang carols outside The Star, a couple of Christmases ago, didn’t you? And I have never forgotten it! Tell me that you’re still singing!’

  Lexi smiled, relieved. She’d wondered what was coming! ‘Oh yes – I still like to sing,’ she said shyly.

  Now Jean Lewis broke in. ‘Of course you are right, Mr Larson,’ she said brightly. ‘This is Lexi Martin, the young lady who sang carols that morning … which she did so that she could buy her mother a present she’d seen here in the window! And I remember, very well, how soon afterwards you came in to the shop for your tobacco and couldn’t stop telling me how this delightful young girl’s voice had enchanted everyone!’

  Feeling almost overcome with embarrassment by all the compliments, Lexi opened the door to leave. Mr Larson stopped her a second time, looking down at her.