Read Online Christmas Tales of Terror by Chris Priestley - Free Book Online Page B

only ever called her that when there were other people about. It was as though he was deliberately setting out to annoy her.
    ‘I’m sure it wasn’t the wind, Daddy, because –’
    ‘So,’ said Uncle Gregory loudly. ‘Who’s for breakfast? Ah – here she is!’
    Theresa re-entered the room and was lifted up by her father and given a hug and a kiss.
    ‘Good morning, darling!’ he said.
    ‘Good morning, Papa!’ she said. ‘I made you a lovely present yesterday but I can’t tell you what it is because it’s a surprise till tomorrow.’
    More Isn’t-she-adorable? chuckles from Elizabeth’s aunt and mother, and more sighing from Elizabeth herself.
    ‘It wasn’t the wind,’ said Elizabeth.
    ‘What was that, sweet pea?’ said her uncle.
    ‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Elizabeth sullenly.
     
    Elizabeth was surprised to discover that Christmas Eve at Farthing Lodge was not quite the circle of hell she had expected it to be.
    Try as she might to resist it, she soon succumbed to the festive atmosphere her uncle and aunt created. Though she tried to remain annoyed about having to share a room with Theresa, as the day went on she began, despite her best intentions, to enjoy herself.
    Lunch had been, by everyone’s agreement, the very best meal that any of them had ever tasted, and Elizabeth’s mother declared that the treacle pudding was so light, she was forced to eat it to stop it flying away.
    In the afternoon they played game after game, and consumed mince pie after mince pie, until eventually they all slumped exhausted by the fire, and Uncle Gregory read them stories from The Jungle Books .
    Later, while the grown-ups played whist, Elizabeth helped Theresa make a jigsaw. The picture showed a farmyard scene with chickens and pigs and horses. The pieces were very large and the jigsaw very easy, but Elizabeth rather enjoyed doing it.
    ‘It was Father Christmas,’ said Theresa, as they tried to find the top of the barn.
    ‘What was?’ said Elizabeth. ‘Look – here it is!’
    ‘Who left that sooty mark,’ whispered Theresa. ‘He kissed me on the cheek. He always does.’
    Elizabeth smiled.
    ‘Might it not have happened when you looked up the chimney?’
    ‘Oh no,’ said Theresa. ‘I was very careful.’
    ‘Well, did he look like he does in the pictures?’ asked Elizabeth.
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Theresa. ‘You aren’t allowed to look at Father Christmas, else he won’t bring you presents. I’ve never looked at him any of the times he’s come down the chimney.’
    ‘How many times has he been?’ said Elizabeth with a giggle.
    ‘Every night since we moved in,’ said Theresa. ‘So . . .’ She counted on her fingers. ‘Six times. He’s come six times.’
    ‘Six! You must have lots of presents, then.’
    ‘Well, actually, he hasn’t left any yet.’ Theresa sighed.
    ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll leave them tonight,’ said Elizabeth.
    ‘Yes,’ Theresa said. ‘I feel so sorry for him, though.’
    ‘Why’s that?’
    ‘He’s so very cold.’
    Elizabeth’s mother chuckled to herself upon hearing this last snippet and smiled at Elizabeth as the two girls got on with their jigsaw.
    By the time Elizabeth had eaten her cold supper of a ham sandwich and piece of pork pie, she was very tired. She didn’t even mind being sent to bed at the same time as Theresa. It would take more than that to dent her good mood. Besides, they were only there another day and night. She would survive. And, best of all, she was almost certain that for Christmas her mother had bought her the lovely green velvet dress she had begged for.
    Elizabeth’s mother hugged her at the bottom of the stairs.
    ‘That was very sweet of you, dear,’ she said, ‘to play so nicely with Theresa. I had to stop myself bursting out laughing when she talked about Father Christmas being so cold. Oh my. The young have such vivid imaginations.’
    ‘Goodnight, Mother,’ said Elizabeth.
    ‘Goodnight, darling,’ said