Dilly Court - The Christmas Card - The perfect heartwarming novel for Christmas from the Sunday Times bestseller

‘I’ll ask Uncle Rory to buy her some sweets,’ Flora said in a whisper as she followed Alice downstairs. ‘I’ve never thought about how poor people live before. It’s not nice.’

‘No,’ Alice agreed. ‘Poverty is dreadful.’ A vision of Horace Hubble sprang to mind and she shuddered. Would such a marriage be preferable to living hand to mouth? She led the way to the drawing room, putting such thoughts aside, and was about to knock on the door when Flora pushed past her and barged into the room. She dropped a dramatic curtsey for the benefit of the visitors and smiling angelically she marched up to her parents.

‘Merry Christmas, Mama and Papa, and everybody. May I have my presents now?’

A ripple of amusement greeted her theatrical entrance, and Lydia managed a tight little smile. Her husband leaned over to pick Flora up and he dandled her on his knee. ‘Merry Christmas, my darling.’ He kissed her on the cheek and set her back on the floor. ‘You may open your gifts.’

Alice stood at the back of the room watching Flora’s apparently carefree performance. She could only wonder at the resilience of children, and a quick glance in Rory’s direction convinced her that he was thinking along the same lines. Flora was sitting on the floor unwrapping the large present he had given her, and he edged his way through the assembled guests to stand beside Alice. ‘She’s quite remarkable,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I was afraid she would be devastated.’

‘Children are tougher than we imagine,’ Alice answered in a whisper. ‘She’s convinced herself that Molly Bishop is not who she claims to be.’

He frowned, shaking his head. ‘I was wrong to take her there. I should have known better.’

Alice was prevented from replying by a cry of delight from Flora as she opened a large wooden box and showed off its contents. ‘It’s a paint box,’ she cried gleefully. ‘With brushes so that I can make proper pictures. Maybe I could be an artist at your printing works, Uncle Rory.’

‘An able apprentice, I’m sure. You’re a lucky little girl, Flora.’ A large man with a red velvet waistcoat straining at his corpulent belly slapped Rory on the back. ‘That’s a splendid gift.’

Flora closed the box, stroking the polished lid with the tips of her fingers. ‘I want to be an artist like Alice.’

Heads turned to stare at her and Alice felt the blood rush to her cheeks. ‘Thank you, Flora, but I’m sure you are more talented than I.’

‘There is still our present, Flora,’ Lydia said icily. ‘Why not open it now?’

Flora reached beneath the tree and took out a much smaller gift, which she opened carefully. ‘A Bible,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Thank you, Mama and Papa.’

‘A leather-bound Bible,’ Lydia said firmly. ‘With your initials embossed on it in gold leaf, Flora. Aren’t you a lucky little girl?’

‘It’s very nice.’ Flora laid it aside, peering under the tree. ‘Where is the other present from Uncle Rory? He said he brought it especially for me.’

Once again heads turned to stare at Rory. ‘Did I forget to put it under the tree?’ he said loudly. ‘My fault entirely, Floss.’

‘You said you went to your office to fetch it,’ Lydia said icily. ‘Let us all see it, Rory.’

Flora jumped to her feet. ‘I can’t wait. I’m sure it’s something very special.’

Rory leaned closer to Alice. ‘It wasn’t for her. I thought she might forget with all her other gifts to open.’

‘You have to give her something,’ Alice said in a whisper. ‘You can’t disappoint her now.’

‘Well, Rory, we’re waiting,’ Frederick Dearborn rose from his seat. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve lost it.’ He glanced round at the flushed faces of his guests. ‘This is typical of my brother. He always was a scatterbrain. I could tell you stories of our childhood and the pranks he used to play. Our father beat him so often that at times he could hardly sit down.’

‘Don’t be vulgar, Frederick,’ Lydia said primly. She glared at Rory. ‘Well, where is it? We’re waiting.’

Rory patted his pocket. ‘I must have dropped it in the hallway. Perhaps Miss Radcliffe will be kind enough to help me look.’ He held his hand up as Flora danced towards him. ‘Wait there, poppet. This won’t take a second.’ He opened the door and stepped outside, followed by Alice.

‘Did you have anything for her, or not?’ she demanded angrily. ‘You can see how disappointed she was by her parents’ present.’

‘That would be Lydia’s doing. She’s not over-generous when it comes to her daughter.’

‘That’s not an answer. Have you something for her or not?’

He shook his head. ‘No, I’m afraid not. I just said the first thing that came into my head.’

‘So what was in the little parcel?’

‘It was a small gift for you, Alice.’ He took the package from his pocket. ‘I know it was a liberty, but I also knew that my sister-in-law would never think of giving you a present, even though you’ve done so much for Flora in such a short space of time. She’s a different child.’

‘I wasn’t expecting anything. You must give it to Flora.’

‘I can’t.’ He laid it in her hand. ‘It’s not suitable for a nine-year-old, and it’s only a trinket, but you’ve been so kind to Flora, and I thought you’d like it.’

She opened it and found a gold ring with a single pearl in a claw setting. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘I saw it in a jeweller’s window and I thought of you.’

Alice shot him a sideways glance and realised that he was being serious. She knew she was blushing, but she was more concerned about Flora than she was for herself. Thinking quickly, she took off her precious butterfly brooch, which she had hidden beneath the stiff white collar of her uniform dress. She placed it in the paper and wrapped it, placing it in his hand. ‘The ring is beautiful, but I can’t accept it. Give this to Flora; she’ll love it as I always have.’

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