Christmas Tales of Terror Read Online Free PDF Page B

buttons on his chest and the snowman was finished. John smiled, satisfied. It was by far and away the best snowman he had ever built. It was also the biggest.
    Snow began to fall as his mother called him in. He was cold and hungry and happy to go inside. The light was already beginning to fade. He gave the snowman one last pat and headed into the house.
     
    Dinner dragged on as expected. John’s father was as intimidated by Uncle Henry as John was by Charles, while John’s mother, Henry’s sister, hung on her brother’s every word.
    Uncle Henry dominated proceedings, telling anecdote after anecdote, most of which John had heard several times before. Every now and then, this performance would be punctuated by one of his uncle’s unnerving laughs.
    John found himself constantly looking towards the carriage clock on the mantelpiece, only to discover that it was never as late as he hoped it would be. He just wanted to get to bed and go to sleep and get Christmas Day over and done with. Uncle Henry and Charles only stayed until Boxing Day. For this reason, Boxing Day had become John’s favourite day of the season.
    There was some compensation in the fact that Uncle Henry was very generous with his gifts and – rather surprisingly, John felt – clearly put quite a lot of thought into their purchase. His presents were nearly always more considered than the ones from John’s own parents.
    But this small bonus was nevertheless cancelled out by the fact that John was expected to pay from his own allowance for a present for Charles. Were he left to his own devices, he might have been brave enough to try to find some way of insulting Charles through this choice of present, but his mother always insisted on accompanying him on such shopping expeditions, so a perfectly sensible (and usually expensive) gift was always bought.
    He assumed that Charles faced the same difficulty, because the presents he gave John were never the cheap and cheerless things John was sure he would have bought him otherwise. Uncle Henry was clearly involved.
    The boys would ceremoniously swap presents every Christmas, feigning enthusiasm both in the giving and the receiving. It had the effect of curdling any Christmas spirit John was feeling and he would spend the rest of the day trying to avoid any contact with Charles at all. This year was to be no exception.
     
    On Christmas Day, John’s parents insisted that the family presents must wait until after the meal had been eaten and the servants had received their gifts. The light was already fading outside by the time the unwrapping finally began. John caught a glimpse of his snowman, lit by the glow from the windows, just as the curtains were being closed. It seemed nearer to the house than he remembered.
    He found the hours after the presents had been opened a torture. They had been the ones that John used to enjoy the most, when the fire was built up until it was roaring and the Christmas candles were lit and games were played and songs sung. That was until his Aunt Margaret had died and his parents thought it would be a kindness to invite Uncle Henry to spend Christmas with them. He had been coming every year since. And so had Charles.
    As was tradition, the servants were relieved of their duties after they had received their presents and it was his mother who brought out the cold cuts and cheeses for their supper.
    All day, John had noticed that Charles was constantly looking at him and smirking to himself as though he was enjoying some secret joke at John’s expense. But it was not until supper that John found out what the source of this amusement was.
    ‘Charles and I have some news,’ said Uncle Henry as he pushed his plate away and poured himself another glass of port. ‘Charles and John are to be schoolmates!’
    John stared at Charles, who grinned back at him darkly.
    ‘Oh, that’s wonderful, isn’t it, John?’ said John’s mother hesitantly.
    John could think of nothing to say. There