The Twelve Days of Christmas

Chapter 12

Agnes quickly started fussing around me, fetching me a glass of water to sip at while she busied herself looking through the items I had hung in the wardrobe. There was much tutting as she did so. She wasn’t at all what I would have expected of Ben’s wife. She was about as warm and chaotic as he was, reserved and calm.

She was wearing a simple black dress over her slightly larger frame. Her eyes seemed to glisten like honey as she smiled up at me. “Don’t worry, dear. We will sort something.” Just like that, she went back to fussing about, focusing her efforts on my suitcase instead. I watched silently as she started hanging my items up. I wanted to tell her it was unnecessary, but she was in her element and I didn’t have the heart to stop her.

Her brown hair was heavily laced with grey and pulled back into a simple and tight bun. There was something about her that eluded motherly vibes. I was certain she and Ben must have had a whole brood of children. Likely all grown. I considered it for a second and thought they must be around my age.

It was odd watching her. Thinking that she must have been about the age my mum would have been. She reminded me of her. I didn’t have a lot of memories, but I could remember my mum always fussing about. She always kept herself busy with some kind of task. Most of them didn’t really matter, of course, but it was about doing the best she could for her family.

Agnes struck me as being the same way. Doing the extra things that I soon realised were not essential when I moved to the home. It was the silly things. My mum always had a clean and pressed school uniform laid out for me each morning. That sort of thing didn’t happen afterwards. I would get my uniform on the Monday and if it was dirty before the end of school on the Wednesday I would be in trouble.

The staff at the home weren’t awful. They just weren’t our parents. I heard stories of things that went on in other homes or when kids were fostered and considered myself lucky.

The air of motherly love that eluded from Agnes took me back to something I hadn’t even realised for such a long time that I had missed. It was like being in a real home, almost. “Right, dear. I know just the thing to do. Don’t you worry your little head about a thing. We will have you all sorted in a jiffy. I won’t be long.” As she left the room, I smiled again at the difference between her and Ben. It was a wonder they managed to coexist.

It wasn’t until after she had gone that I realised how calm I had been in her presence. All the worry and nerves had vanished. Even knowing she would be coming back was enough to keep them from returning.

The relief when she returned to the room without knocking was overwhelming. Which was only heightened when I saw her arms filled with fabric. The mound was barely contained in her arms. I jumped up from my position and started to help her settle her load on the bed. Removing the dresses one at a time. Each one seemed more exquisite than the last, and I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful gown existing.

With the lifting of the final gown, it revealed a rather large tartan fabric box with wicker handles, hooked over her arm as though it weighed nothing. “Right, dear. Let’s get to it.”

“These can’t all be for me. Where did they come from?” She shooed me away slightly with her hands, and I moved to one side.

“Never mind the where. They most certainly are for you. I think the coral one would look particularly splendid with your colouring, my dear.” She held it up to show me, but I already knew which dress she was referring to.

It was a simple evening gown compared to some of the more showy items on the bed. Coral from the bust down, but with cream, slightly sheer fabric covering my shoulders and arms. The sleeves seemed to flow with a mind of their own. I brushed my fingers over the silk. I could feel the quality. It was like nothing I had ever felt before.

I felt unworthy, but still I couldn’t resist. I felt like Cinderella, being assisted by her fairy godmother. It was more than I could have ever dreamed of. I nodded slightly. It was all I could manage. My ability to converse in English seemed to be at an all-time low recently.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the huge oval golden mirror, staring at myself in disbelief. I knew it was me, but it wasn’t all at the same time. The cool fabric hung from me in all the right places and pooled at my feet. “It will need taking up, my dear, but I can have that done quickly enough.” She stooped down to the floor as though it was something she did every day. “Just a few pins and I shall head off and get it adjusted, so it’s perfect for you.”

“Agnes?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Thank you. It will never come close to explain how much this means to me, but it is the best I can do.”

“That gleam in your eyes is the only thanks I need. I take it that you are not used to this kind of thing?”

“I must admit, I am not. It is all rather surreal.” As She busied herself, she kept chattering away. I couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror, but I listened as she spoke about her job at the palace. She was a seamstress and had been since long before the Queen had died. She had been close to the late queen and worked primarily on any last-minute alterations or repairs to her outfits.

Agnes lovingly talked of her daughter and how she had been able to adapt some of the clothes that were no longer needed for her over the years. Telling me how they had three boys first, and she had longed for a girl. To be able to put her skills to good use to make her daughter smile the way a young girl did in a nice new dress. She said that was the look she had seen on my face and that it had reminded her of her Sarah so much.

I was sure I had seen her tear up a little. It was clear there was an emotional story behind the remark, but I decided it was best not to pry. Before long, she was retreating from the room and ordering me to shower and get ready while she got to work. Given the motherly tone, I complied without question. Realising I hadn’t been quite so happy in a very long time.