
Image by V.M.Sang using Bing Image Generator.
Picture shows a well-dressed Victorian woman with small blonde girl and a slightly older boy walking along a snowy street. A ragged man and boy watch them pass.
Goldie could not believe what was happening. This must be a dream, and soon she would wake to hunger and cold, not to mention fear of Mr Smith.
She sat on a small stool before the fire. Warmth. Lovely warmth. Even with no clothes on, she felt warm. Warmer than she ever remembered.
This was a beautiful house. She had never been inside a house like this. It was clean, with furniture that was not broken or torn. Thick curtains that would keep out the cold. Clutching Jacob Rabbit to her naked chest, she stood and wandered to feel them. Soft. Almost as soft as Jacob.
“Is this real?” she whispered to the rabbit.
The door opened and Mrs Beare came in.
Mamma, she said I was to call her.
“I’ve borrowed these clothes from the vicar’s wife, Emily. She has a little girl about your age. Come and let me help you to dress.”
I’m Emily again. I have my proper name back.
Mamma dressed her in what looked like expensive clothes. She had always worn clothes passed on to the poor by richer folk. They had been worn out in places, and the fabric thin.
Mamma held up a white dress. “Arms up,” she said.
When Emily complied, she dropped the dress over the child’s head. “Now turn around so I can do up the buttons.”
When the buttons were fastened, Mamma tied a blue ribbon around her waist.
The dress was not as long as Mamma’s. It came halfway down her calves. A hint of the frill around the legs of her bloomers peeped from below.
Mamma picked up a brush and teased out the tangles from her golden hair. “I can see why they called you Goldie. And you have a soft natural curl to your hair. It will be easy to fashion.” She held Emily at arm’s length. “You are exquisite. Now let us go and eat dinner before Mrs White has a fit.”
They left the sitting room and entered the dining room.
Mr Beare’s eyes opened wide. “I can’t believe this is the same little girl that was asleep in Harold’s room. She’s beautiful.”
Emily smiled and cast her eyes down.
Jane had set a fourth place, and when all four were seated, Mrs White entered carrying a platter on which sat a large goose. She was followed by Jane with a tray of dishes. The pair placed their burdens on the table.
“I’m sorry about the soup, Ma’am,” Mrs White said. “There was not enough to feed you all.” She glared at Emily.
Emily felt her face heating.
“That is all right, Mrs White. It wasn’t your fault,” Mrs Beare replied.
Emily squirmed in her seat and kept her eyes down. It was her fault there was not enough soup.
Mr Beare, Papa, carved the goose and served everyone.
There were potatoes, and a sauce made from some kind of green fruit. Mamma said they were gooseberries, so called because they were served with goose. Another dish had sprouts, and yet another had carrots.
After eating all these delicious foods, Emily had never felt so full in her life. She thought of the thin gruel she had eaten at Mr Smith’s, and grimaced.
After Jane cleared the remnants and dirty crockery, Mrs White returned with a plum pudding. She placed it carefully on the table and Mrs Beare served each of them.
When they finished eating, Harold looked at her, and took a deep breath. “It’s Christmas, Mamma. We had our presents, but Emily hasn’t had anything.”
Emily grinned. “Yes, I have. I have a new home and family. That’s the best Christmas present ever.”
“But I want to give you something.” He pulled Jacob Rabbit from under the table. “You are now my little sister. You love Jacob, and so I’ll give him to you.”
His parents smiled.
After eating, the family repaired to the sitting room, Emily clutching Jacob Rabbit to her chest. Mamma sat at the piano and played Christmas carols, to which they all joined in singing. After a while, Papa got out the dominoes and they played until Emily ‘s eyes began to close.
Jane had made up a bed for her in her very own room. As she lay, her eyes closing, she believed this was the best day ever.
*****
Mr Smith stomped around the sparse loft room. “What d’you mean, no one’s seen ’er? She can’t just disappear.”
Jack spoke quietly. “P’rhaps she ran away after you beat ’er.”
“Then she’ll be ‘idin’ somewhere.” He turned to the other children. “All of you. Go out and search. Look in every corner, every empty ‘ouse, ware’ouses; everywhere you can think of.”
A few weeks later, Jack went up to Mr Smith, cowering. “I seen Goldie.”
Mr Smith grabbed the boy. “Where? Why didn’t you bring her back?”
“Couldn’t. She were with a well-to-do lady. Dressed nice, she were. Lady were ‘oldin’ her ‘and, like she were her mother or summat.”
Mr Smith sank into his chair. “Couldn’t be ‘er. A girl what looks like her. That’s who you saw.”
Jack shook his head. “Was ‘er a’right. Saw me, she did. Shook her ‘ead at me. Rekernised me for sure.”
“Well, we’ve searched for ‘er for weeks now. We need to get back to business. There’s no money coming in while you are all out searchin’. If that were Goldie you saw, she’s lost to us.”
The End
I hope you enjoyed the story of Goldie. Please let me know what you thought in the comments.
