I was touched as I had rarely been. Jenny’s love for that child was beautiful to see. The child’s happiness meant everything to her. I thought Lucie deprived when compared with Belinda, but how could she be with love like that?

It was a joyous occasion. Now I could talk about the exploits of conjurors with the utmost freedom.

We laughed and chatted. I could not believe that Jenny was the same person whom I had seen singing in the lanes.

Belinda with Leah helped to dress the Christmas tree. She was a little imperious giving orders. “This is where I want this …” and so on.

There were to be presents for all the children and these would be distributed before the conjuror arrived. I had chosen a doll for Lucie. It had long flaxen hair and eyes which shut when the doll was held backwards.

There were candles on the tree which would be lighted at dusk.

Belinda shrieked with delight when she saw the candles. She said it ought to be Christmas every day.

And at last it came.

All the family from Pencarron were with us. They were going to stay the night because it was a fair way to Pencarron Manor and we did not know what the weather would be like.

Then there were Jack and Marian with the twins, Jacco and Anne-Mary; and the Wilminghams with their son and daughter and three grandchildren were to come for Christmas Day. There would also be another little girl and boy from about a mile away.

My grandparents had said that Christmas Day was for the children and that it should be devoted to their pleasure.

Jenny arrived with Lucie who looked very pretty in her blue flounces. Her eyes lit up with pleasure when she saw me and she ran to me and hugged me round the knees as she usually did. I found this very endearing. I sensed that she was a little overawed and rather eager to keep at my side.

My grandmother kissed her and, taking her by the hand, led her into the hall. I was thrilled to see the wonder in her eyes as she contemplated the tree.

The other children were all gathered there. Belinda came over and I was amused to see with what dignity she greeted Lucie. I had already spoken to her and told her that Lucie was coming and that as she was the hostess she must make sure that all her guests were comfortable.

She had liked the idea of that.

“This is my house,” she told Lucie immediately. “I am the hostess.”

Lucie nodded but she could not take her eyes from the Christmas tree.

My grandmother and I gave out the presents and when I saw Lucie’s joy in her flaxen haired doll I felt a wave of happiness. Then I felt rather guilty to be so contented without my mother. I uttered a little prayer to her. “I have not forgotten you. I never shall. But I am so happy to be able to do this for the child.”

In that moment I almost felt that she was beside me, sharing in my happiness and that gave me immense comfort.

The conjuror had arrived. As we arranged the chairs for the children I heard Belinda say: “Lucie, you’ve got my dress.”

Lucie looked down with dismay at the flounces of which she was so proud.

“I didn’t say you could have it. It’s mine.”

I took Belinda’s arm and whispered: “Don’t be silly. I told you you have to be polite to your guests.”

“But she’s got my dress. It’s mine.”

“It’s her dress.”

“It’s just like mine.”

“Be quiet or you won’t see the conjuror.”

Belinda put out the tip of her tongue. It was a gesture of defiance and disrespect. She had done it before and been admonished; she had then sworn that she did not know her tongue was there. Sometimes I had uneasy qualms about her. Even Leah, who doted on her, admitted that she was “a bit of a handful.”

There was silence in the hall as the conjuror took his place and began to perform his tricks. He folded paper; he tore it; and when it unfurled it had become a ship. He threw little balls in the air … many of them and caught them all. He brought eggs out of his ears and a rabbit out of a hat.

The children were entranced. It had been a brilliant idea to get a conjuror.

Sometimes he wanted help from one of the children—someone to hold his hat and assure the company that there was nothing in it, someone to make sure that the handkerchief was a blue one before it disappeared into his pocket and came out red.

“Now, one of your children …”

It was always Belinda. She was the one. If any of the others attempted to get up he or she would be pushed aside. It was as though she could not help reminding them that this was her house and if anyone was going to take part in the show, she was that one.

She was quick and intelligent, of course, but I wished she would sometimes allow one of the others to share the glory.

The last trick had been played; the conjuror was getting his props together and Belinda was dancing round him asking questions.

Jacco boasted that he could do a trick, tried and failed and there was general derision.

It was time that the candles were lighted. The children watched with wonder while this was done. The tree looked very pretty.

Pedrek was at my side.

“He was good, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, and I should like to know how he does some of those tricks.”

“That’s the last thing he’d want you to know.”

Belinda was looking round for something to-do. She saw Lucie standing there.

She said: “You have got my dress.”

“It’s mine,” replied Lucie fiercely. “Miss Rebecca gave it tome.”

“It’s not hers to give.”

I was about to protest when Pedrek said: “Let’s go for a ride tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, I’d like that,” I replied.

Jenny came in with a tray of lemonade for the children. She set it down by the tree. Lucie noticed her and ran to her, possibly to escape from Belinda’s taunts. Belinda snatched one of the candles from the tree and brandishing it ran after Lucie.

“It’s my dress. It’s my dress. I’m a witch. I’m waving my wand. I’m going to turn you into a toad. It’s magic.”

It all happened so quickly. She touched the flounce of the dress with the candle. I felt stunned as I saw the flames creep round the skirt and up … Lucie was a ball of flame.

I heard the screams and shouts, but before any of us could reach the child Jenny was there. She flung herself on top of Lucie, beating out the flames with her hands. She pushed the child away from her … Lucie lay on the floor, her dress no longer alight, but Jenny’s clothing was a mass of flames.

It had all happened in a few seconds. Pedrek was the first to move. He picked up a rug and wrapped it round Jenny. He battled for a few moments before the fire was extinguished.

Jenny lay there, her hair burned from her head … her skin horribly discolored … moaning faintly.

My grandmother shouted for Dr. Wilmingham but he was already there, kneeling beside Jenny.

There was pandemonium.

Lucie was in a state of shock and it was to her that Dr. Wilmingham gave his care. There was no saving Jenny.

She had given her life for the child’s.

What a terrible ending to that never-to-be-forgotten Christmas.

I was relieved to discover that Lucie was not as badly hurt as I had feared. Jenny had been so quick to beat out the fire with her own body that all the child had suffered from were a few superficial burns which Dr. Wilmingham was able to deal with.

Pedrek too had burns on his hands but fortunately nothing serious.

Leah had taken Belinda away. I was wondering what effect this would have on her. Did she realize that she was responsible for one death and might have been for another?

We should have to talk very seriously to Belinda; but at the moment Lucie was our concern. I asked that she should be put in my bed that I might be with her throughout the night. I wondered what we were going to tell her. There was the even more pressing problem of what would become of her.

At the moment she was deeply shocked and in some pain from the burns. I knew my presence comforted her to a great extent and I was glad that I had had the foresight to insist that she was put into my bed.

What a strangely long day that was. Lucie was given a sedative and I was glad she slept.

Gathered downstairs were my grandparents with Pedrek and his family with the Wilminghams. Jack and Marian had thought it best to take the children home and all the other young people had left also.

“What a terrible thing to happen,” said my grandmother. “It is that child I’m thinking of most.”

“Miraculously she is not badly hurt … physically,” said Dr. Wilmingham. “That heroic woman saw to that. But naturally this sort of thing is a great shock to the system. We shall have to watch that. The poor child has lost her mother. I don’t know what will come out of this.”

“The question will be what will become of her?” said my grandmother.

“We shall see that she is all right, won’t we, Granny?” I said.

She nodded reassuringly. “Poor, poor little thing. She was so happy watching the conjuror.”

“And Belinda …” I began.

There was silence.

My grandmother said at length: “Leah was so anxious about her.”

“Anxious about her!” I cried. “She was the one who caused it all. What is she going to think? Jenny Stubbs … dead … because of her.”

“I know,” said my grandmother. “It’s a terrible thing to happen to a child.”

“She deliberately took the candle and set fire to Lucie’s dress.”

“Children don’t understand the dangers of fire. She’s very young … and seeing all those tricks … she probably thought she was going to transform Lucie into a dragon or something.”

“We mustn’t be too hard on her,” said my grandfather. “Something like this could scar a child’s mind for ever.”

“I know,” agreed my grandmother. “It’s a terrible situation. It was my fault for giving Lucie Belinda’s dress.”

My grandfather said: “Oh come. Don’t let’s start blaming ourselves. We would all have done anything to avert such a tragedy.”

“I am glad Lucie is with you, Rebecca,” said my grandmother.

“If she awakened in the night, she wouldn’t know where she was … so I thought it best …”

“Yes, you are right.”

Silence fell upon us. We were all thoughtful—every one of us preoccupied with Lucie and the terrible tragedy which had come upon us.

I lay beside the child, thankful that she was still sleeping. She looked very young and vulnerable. I wanted to weep for the cruelty of life which had taken my mother from me … as Lucie’s had been taken from her. That made me feel doubly close to the child.

I would be there when she awoke. I would hold her tightly and comfort her.

On that Christmas night I had a strange experience. I was not sure whether I was awake or sleeping. I thought I was awake but afterwards I supposed I could not have been, for it seemed to me that my mother was in the room. Remembering back I did not see her but I almost felt that I did. It was just that I knew she was there. I did not hear her voice but the words were in my mind. She was calling to me … telling me what I must do.

I lay there, my heart pounding. I was exultant suddenly because she was with me … because she had come back. I tried to call out to her but I did not hear my voice.

I just know that she was with me … urging me to act.

I was wide awake. The room was silent. The child was still sleeping beside me. I could see the shapes of the furniture in the pale moonlight.

I got out of bed and put on my dressing gown and slippers.

“Where are you, Mama … dearest Mama, where are you?” I whispered.

There was no answer.

I went to the window and looked out. There was moonlight on the sea; I listened to the silence all around me, broken only by the gentle swishing of the waves.

I could not stay in my room. Some impulse made me go to the door. I looked out. All was quiet. I went down the great staircase to the hall.

There was the Christmas tree … an object of tragedy now. The burned-down candles… the symbol of tragedy. I sat down beside it and covered my face with my hands.

“Come back,” I murmured. “Come back, Mama. You did come back … for a while.”

And as I sat there, I heard a soft footfall on the stairs. I looked up eagerly. It was my grandmother coming into the hall.

“Rebecca,” she said. “I thought I heard someone moving about. What are you doing down here?”

“I … I couldn’t sleep.”