Chapter 58 Francis
FRANCIS
Nanny Pam is snoring next door. Nanny doesn’t wake up when she is snoring even when I make noise. Snoring means Nanny got the bottle of drink from the shop in the village.
I’m hungry. I didn’t eat my dinner except two potatoes because it was beef casserole and I hate casserole.
Mrs Wilson gave me a biscuit when Nanny Pam wasn’t watching, but it was only one biscuit.
The kitchen is a long way from the nursery and two floors down.
There are lots of ways I could be seen if I go down there.
If it was daytime I could use the servant’s passage, which has two secret doors, but then I would come out in Mummy’s bedroom where the secret passage ends.
Mummy said in the olden days they needed the secret passage because people wanted secret friends to visit, and you could go all the way to the second gate underground if you wanted to.
But I like the normal hallways, because the moon comes in the windows, and you can see all the way to the kitchen where Mrs Wilson keeps the treats.
On the landing of the second floor, Daddy has a suit of armour, and it looks like a man holding a sword.
It has some dents in it from when it was in a battle.
Daddy said it’s from the sixteenth century, which was a very long time ago.
I’m not scared of it. Mummy always says I’m her brave little soldier because it’s in my blood from my ancestors.
She says they were nice and jolly interesting people, but when I walk along the great hall and look at the pictures, they stare back like mean ghosts.
I sit at the top of the nursery staircase. I can hear a loud voice down below that I know is Daddy’s. He sounds angry so I will have to wait to go downstairs in case they see me and Daddy gives me a smack.
I move my bottom down each step until I am sitting on the landing and can see through the gallery railings.
They have pretty shapes on the spindles.
Mummy is all the way over the other side of the big space through the circle of spindles.
She is speaking in her quiet voice to Daddy, who has his angry face on and is holding her arm.
I look down and keep my eyes on the Christmas tree in the hall below.
Tomorrow Mummy and I will wrap all the presents to put beneath it.
The top of it reaches up into the gap in the landing, and when we put the star on the top I could nearly reach through the spindles and do it.
The tree is so big we had to use two saws to cut it down and bring it in the horse float.
It has colourful lights that are twinkling, and I look at them instead of Mummy who sounds like she is going to cry and keeps saying, ‘Please, Edward, please, please, please.’
My tummy feels ill. Mummy has her back against the railing at the top of the staircase and keeps saying ‘please’ and Daddy keeps getting angry.
I put my hands over my ears because I hate hearing Mummy cry and I want Daddy to be kind.
There is a loud noise and even though I don’t mean to look, I do.
Daddy has his arms on both of Mummy’s arms, and then she is lifted up, up, over, then a shriek like a fox in a trap.
She is gone.
It is quiet. I scrunch my eyes and hide inside my arms. Daddy begins yelling and even though my eyes are closed I feel the lights go on.
Running and calling and screaming is everywhere and I open my eyes.
Katie runs from her room near the chapel and Clive comes from his bedroom which is behind the green parlour, and everyone is making horrible screams and Daddy is saying, ‘She tumbled down them. Oh, my god. She fell down the stairs.’
I look down. Then I am rocking and rocking, until I am in The Hundred Acre Wood and climbing a big old tree to the highest branches.
And my eyes are closed but from up here I still see Mummy.
She is Sleeping Beauty on the black and white marble tiles next to the Christmas tree, but there is a river coming from her head.
A beautiful red river, like ruby silk. Tomorrow I will draw a handsome silk dress and tell Mummy that she must have a dress made of red, because it is Christmas, and she always says, ‘Too much red at Christmas is never enough, Francis!’ And she will kiss me and say, ‘Good morning, darling boy,’ and we will wrap all the presents to put under the tree.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and Mrs Wilson is pulling me away and she is tucking me in and she says, ‘Close your eyes now, Francis, there’s a good lad.
’ And she sits on my bed and my eyes are shut tight and behind my eyes is the river of red.
All I can feel is Mrs Wilson’s heavy hands.
One is on my head and Mrs Wilson must be cold because she is shivering.