out a scream. “It looks like it’s broken.” He looked at Gertie and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “I’m so very sorry.”
Struggling against tears herself, she said roughly, “It’s not your fault. I told him not to hang over the side.” She shuddered as the wind whipped her scarf against her cheek. “What do we do now?”
“Give me your scarf.” He unwound his own scarf and held out his hand for hers.
She gave it to him, aware of her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t bear to see her little boy in so much pain. She would give anything to take his place. It was her fault. She should have been more strict with him. She was a rotten mother. Daisy would never have let this happen.
Somehow Clive must have sensed what was going on in her tortured mind. He put an arm about her shoulders and hugged her against his big body. “Cheer up, luv. We’ll get him to the doctor and he’ll take care of him.”
He let her go and turned to the boy. “Now, James, this is going to hurt a little, so I want you to be really, really brave, all right? Let’s show your mama what a brave boy you are.”
James gave him a scared nod, tears still running down his cheeks.
Gertie watched in awe as Clive eased the broken arm against her son’s chest and tied the two scarves tightly around him to hold it in place.
Apart from a whimper or two, James hardly made a sound, though he couldn’t stop the tears from soaking the collar of his coat.
Gertie ached to hold him, but she was afraid of hurting him more. Instead, she stood back and let Clive pick him up. Stepping carefully through the slushy snow, he carried the boy to the sleigh and sat him down next to his sister.
Lillian was shivering and crying, and Gertie quickly scrambled onto the seat and put her arm around the little girl. Being careful not to touch her son’s injured arm, she hugged him close, and held on to them both as Clive drove the sleigh carefully down the path to the town below.
Luckily, Dr. Prestwick was in his surgery when they arrived. He gave James some medicine to dull the pain and set the arm in a plaster cast-a procedure that seemed to take forever and made poor James cry out in pain. Gertie felt sick by the time it was all over.
Dr. Prestwick assured her that the fracture was a simple one and that James would heal in time. “Thanks to Mr. Russell,” he added, as Gertie thanked him. “If he hadn’t bound the arm just the way he did, it might have been a different story.”
Still drowsy from the medicine, James fell asleep on the ride back to the Pennyfoot. Anxious to get the children back to the comfort of their room, Gertie had little time to express her thanks.
“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there,” she said, as Clive carried James down the kitchen steps. “You saved his life.”
Clive shook his head. “It wasn’t that bad, though I know you must have been terrified. I feel responsible for what happened.”
“Please, don’t.” She took James from him at the door. “It wasn’t your fault. James was being a bloody twerp and I wasn’t firm enough with him.”
“Well, I hope his arm doesn’t give him too much pain.” He started to move away, then added, “I’m so sorry the afternoon turned out so badly. I know how much the twins were looking forward to the sleigh ride.”
Gertie smiled. “It was a lovely sleigh ride. And your sleigh is beautiful. Thank you, Clive.”
He looked at her for a long moment, making her feel self-conscious. “It was my pleasure, Gertie.” With a swift wave of his hand, he walked briskly away from her and up the stairs.
It wasn’t until he disappeared that she realized she’d forgotten to ask him two things. One was about his past. The other was why he’d acted as if the devil was after him in the woods.
Pansy dumped a pile of serviettes onto the nearest dining room table and grabbed up a silver serviette ring. Here was her one chance for doing something really exciting and old Chubby had to go and spoil it all. It wasn’t fair.
She snatched up one of the white linen squares and rolled it into a thin sausage before shoving it through the ring. Throwing it down on the table, she was about to reach for another ring when Gertie’s voice spun her around.
“Whatcha doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Pansy waved the ring at her. “I’m playing Ring a Ring o’ Roses with the serviettes.”
“All right, you don’t have to be cheeky. I was just asking.” Gertie walked over to the next table. “Here, give me some. I’ll help you.”
Feeling sorry for snapping at her friend, Pansy handed over a pile of serviettes. “Did you have a nice sleigh ride?”
“Yeah, we did.” Gertie gave her a sharp look. “You’re not cross with me because I took the time off, are you?”
Pansy shook her head. “Sorry. I’m upset at Mrs. Chubb. She won’t let me help Doris with her costumes in the pantomime.”
Gertie gasped. “Phoebe Fortescue asked you to help her?”
Pansy turned to her, all her resentment flooding to the surface. “No, it was
“All right, all right, don’t get your flipping knickers in a twist.” Gertie started threading the rolled-up serviettes through the rings. “I’ll have a word with Chubby. We’ll find a way for you to do it.”
“It’ll mean going to rehearsals. At least the dress rehearsals, as well as the pantomime.”
“Leave it to me.” Gertie smiled at her. “Don’t worry. You know I can get around old Chubby.”
Pansy sniffed. “Thank you, Gertie-you’re a real friend.” Feeling much better, she moved on to the next table. “So tell me what happened on the sleigh ride.”
Gertie shrugged. “Not a lot. We went up to the woods to get some mistletoe, and James fell out of the sleigh and broke his arm.”
Pansy paused, a serviette dangling from her fingers. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not.” Gertie sighed. “It was awful, seeing him disappear over the side like that. I thought he was dead. Scared me to bloody death, I can tell you.”
“Is he all right?”
Gertie rolled up another serviette. “Well, he’s got a plaster cast on his arm. Solid as a rock, it is. He has to keep it on for weeks. That’ll bloody slow him down a bit. It will probably mean he won’t be in the pantomime.”
“Oh, Gertie, I’m so sorry.” Pansy rushed over to give her friend a hug. “Poor James. I hope this doesn’t spoil Christmas for him.”
Gertie snorted. “Once he sets eyes on what Clive is making for him he’ll forget all about his blinking arm.” She shook her head. “That man is so clever with his hands. Too bloody good he is to be working here.”
Pansy gave her a sly smile. “You really like him, don’t you?”
Gertie turned away with a careless shrug. “He’s all right. I don’t really know him, do I. I mean, just when I think I know him well, he goes and does something really strange. Like in the woods this afternoon. He acted as if he was really scared of something. Took off in the sleigh like a bleeding bat out of hell. We were going so fast we hit a bump and that’s when James went flying. Mind you, he was hanging out of the sleigh, so it wasn’t really Clive’s fault, but I never did find out why Clive had acted so strange.”
Pansy put the serviette down on the right side of the place setting. “P’raps he was scared of the Christmas Angel.” She caught her breath, silently cursing the slip of her tongue.
Gertie raised her head. “The who?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Pansy hurriedly moved to the next table.
Gertie walked over to her, her hands on her hips. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”
“I shouldn’t have said nothing. Samuel told me not to say nothing to nobody.”
“I’m not nobody.” Gertie leaned forward. “So bloody well tell me.”
