Free Silence in Hanover Close by Anne Perry

kitchen. All the lights were blazing. Charlotte and Emily sat at the table, putting the finishing touches on the icing of a great cake, and Gracie was stuffing the goose. Emily had arrived an hour earlier with a footman in tow, laden with colored paper, boxes, and ribbons. Edward, Daniel, and Jemima had clustered round him, speechless with excitement, Edward hopping up and down from one foot to the other, his blond hair flopping on his head like a silver-gold lid. Daniel was doing a little dance on the floor, round and round in circles until he fell over.
    Pitt put Jemima down, kissed Charlotte, welcomed Emily, and acknowledged Gracie’s presence. He took his boots off and stretched out in front of the stove, warming his feet and legs, and watched contentedly as Gracie moved the kettle over onto the hot surface and got down the teapot and his large breakfast cup.
    After the meal he could hardly wait for the children to go to bed so he could bring out his carefully hidden gifts and begin to wrap them up. He and Emily and Charlotte sat round the scrubbed kitchen table, now piled with scissors, bright paper, and pieces of ribbon and string. Every so often someone would disappear into the parlor, demanding not to be disturbed, and returning with a satisfied smile and gleaming eyes.
    They went to bed a little before midnight, and Pitt only heard Charlotte get up once in the pitch darkness when a small voice on the landing asked plaintively, “Isn’t it morning yet?”
    He woke properly at seven to find Daniel at the door in his nightgown and Charlotte fully dressed at the window.
    “I think it’s snowing,” she said softly. “It’s too dark to see, but there’s a sort of gleam in the air.” She turned round and saw Daniel. “Happy Christmas, darling,” she said, bending over to kiss him. He stood still; he was nearly five and not sure about being kissed anymore, at least not in front of other people.
    “Is it Christmas?” he whispered into the soft hair around her cheek.
    “Yes—yes it is! Get up Thomas, it’s Christmas.” She held out her hand to Daniel. “Do you want to come and see what is under the tree in the parlor before you get dressed?”
    He nodded, his wide eyes never leaving her face.
    “Then come on!” And she whisked him out, leaving the door wide open behind her and calling for Edward and Jemima to follow.
    Pitt scrambled out of bed, pulled on his clothes in even worse disarray than usual, and, after splashing his face from the pitcher on the dresser, ran downstairs. Charlotte, Emily, and the children stood in the parlor staring at the tree and the pile of bright parcels under it. No one spoke.
    “Breakfast first, then church; then we’ll see what’s in there,” Pitt said, breaking the spell. He did not want Emily to turn and see his face, and think of George.
    Jemima opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it.
    “Where’s Gracie?” he asked.
    “I sent her home last night,” Charlotte replied. “With two of us we can do everything quite easily.”
    “Wouldn’t she rather have been here, with us?” Pitt thought of the difference between Gracie’s home and this house with its warmth, its happiness, and the goose in the oven.
    “Maybe,” Charlotte agreed, leading the way to the kitchen. “But her mother wouldn’t. Emily gave her a chicken,” she added under her breath, then went on briskly. “Breakfast in thirty minutes. Everyone go and get dressed— come on!” She clapped her hands and Emily took the children back upstairs while she went to prepare porridge, bacon, eggs, toast, marmalade, honey, and tea. Pitt went back up to shave.
    Outside there was a fine dusting of snow and banners of pearl-gray cloud across the winter blue of the sky between the rooftops. They walked together to the church half a mile away. Everywhere bells were ringing; the cold air was full of the sound.
    The service was short, and they sat packed together in the narrow pews while the vicar