Lizzie's Song

Chapter 9- Christmas Day

Late the next morning, Thomas hears music coming from behind the door at the end of the hall. Someone is playing the piano. There is laughter, and the smell of good food cooking.

Malachi comes through the door with Mr York, "I think you're a damn sentimental fool, Reg, but if you're sure, I'll trust you."

Mr York opens Thomas' cell, "Come on, son. You deserve a proper Christmas at least once in your life."

"Excuse me?"

"You said you'd never celebrated Christmas. That's what we're doing. I'm inviting you to join us."

He hesitantly steps out of the cell; Malachi stops him before they proceed, "Mr Sharpe, Reg here may be softhearted, but I'm not going to hesitate to put you in your place if you step out of line. When he says 'enjoy yourself', I add 'remember you're still in prison for killing three women'- do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now come on."

Mr York shakes his head, "Always reminding me to stick to business, Mal. Don't worry, Mr Sharpe. You'll be fine. It's just a little party and some supper."

They pass through the door. Ezra and Nathaniel are playing cards. Lizzie is in the kitchen with an older woman. Another girl plays piano. There is a large table in the middle of the room with a festive cloth draped over it and candles in the middle.

Mr York walks Thomas around the outside of the room towards the stairs, "Before you join us, I want you to make yourself comfortable. There's a bath drawn upstairs for you. Clean clothes. Follow me, I'll take you up."

Lizzie waves to him from the kitchen and Thomas waves back, "Thank you. This is far more than I expected anyone would ever do for me."

"I said when I took you in that we'd take care of you. The more of your story I hear, the more sorry it is. You're going to have at least one right and proper Christmas." They go up the narrow stairs to a light and airy second floor, the windows along the hallway overlooking the village square. It is snowing, the flakes large and fluffy. He cannot help but stop and stare.

"Mr Sharpe?"

"Thomas, please. Just...Thomas. I don't need the reminder I am my father's son."

Mr York nods and leans on the wall, waiting, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's beautiful. The snow coming down, the sun glittering off the flakes when the clouds break. And the village itself- there is...life here. It is so different than Crimson Peak. The white makes everything look so pure and nothing seeps red." He pauses, "The churchyard seemed so much farther away..."

"It's not that big of a place. We stay close to one another- no sense in building farther away from your people than you need to."

"Such as all the way to Allerdale Hall."

"Never could quite make sense of why your people built way out there. I know, that's where the clay is, but the house is so remote and it takes too long to get there. It sure made it harder for the miners to get out to work. Nobody liked getting up before dawn to travel to the clay fields, or getting home after dark. Your father worked men hard."

"I know. He was a brutal man."

"I remember your confession. Brutality didn't end in the clay mines."

"No, it started at home."

Mr York gestures to the bathroom, "I try to be a fair man. You don't get much in the way of comfort in the jail, but your needs are met. But today's a holiday. So here's your bath. Rest. Relax. And enjoy it. Really enjoy it. Nobody's going to tell you you're taking too long or try to make you come down before the water's cold. There's a good hour before supper's ready. We'll be ready for you when you're ready for us." He pauses, "And because Mal would insist, I'm going to remind you that I'm putting a lot of faith in you as my guest. I expect that you remember that and don't try anything stupid."