The Christmas Mouse Read Online Free PDF

ajar, her lashes making dark crescents against her rosy cheeks.
    Jane’s vigil seemed lonelier and bleaker every minute. What’s more, she was hungry, she discovered. The thoughtof the blue biscuit tin, no doubt standing by the teacups below, caused her stomach to rumble. Cautiously, she slid her skinny legs out of bed, took a swift glance at the two empty pillowcases draped expectantly one each end of the brass bed rail, and crept to the door.
    The wind was making so much noise that no one heard the latch click, or the footsteps on the stairs. The child opened the bottom door, which led directly into the living room, and stood blinking in the light like a little owl caught in the sunshine.
    ‘Mercy me!’ gasped Mrs Berry, putting down her cup with a clatter. ‘What a start you gave me, child!’
    ‘Jane!’ cried her mother. ‘What on earth are you doing down here?’ Her voice was unusually sharp. Surprised and startled, she could have shaken the child in her exasperation.
    ‘I’m hungry,’ whispered Jane, conscious of her unpopularity.
    ‘You had a good supper,’ said Mary shortly. ‘Time you was asleep.’
    ‘Let her come by the fire for a minute,’ pleaded Mrs Berry. ‘Shut that door, my dear. The draught fairly cuts through us. Want a cup of tea, and a biscuit?’
    The child’s face lit up. ‘Shall I fetch a cup?’
    ‘Not with those bare feet,’ said Mary. ‘I’ll get your mug, and then you go straight back to bed as soon as you’re finished. Your gran’s too good to you.’
    She hurried kitchenwards, and the child sat on the rag rug smiling at the flames licking the log. It was snug down here. It was always snug with Gran.
    She put a hand on the old lady’s knee. ‘Mum’s cross,’ she whispered.
    ‘She’s tired. Done a lot today, and you know you should really be abed, giving her a break.’
    They always hang together, these grownups, thought Jane rebelliously; but she took the mug of weak tea gratefully, and the top biscuit from the tin when it was offered, even though it was a Rich Tea and she knew there were Ginger Nuts further down.
    ‘Is Frances asleep?’ asked Mary.
    ‘Yes. I couldn’t get off.’
    ‘You told me you didn’t intend to,’ replied her mother. ‘Trying to see Father Christmas, silly girl. As though he’ll come if you’re awake! The sooner you’re asleep the sooner he’ll come!’
    Torn with doubts, the child looked swiftly up into her grandmother’s face. It told her nothing. The familiar kind smile played around the lips. The eyes looked down at her as comfortingly as ever.
    ‘Your mother’s right. Drink up your tea, and then snuggle back into bed. I’ll come and tuck you up this time.’
    Jane tilted her mug, put the last fragment of biscuit into her mouth, and scrambled to her feet.
    ‘Whose presents are those?’ she said, suddenly aware of the parcels on the table.
    ‘Not yours,’ said Mary.
    ‘Neighbours’,’ said her grandmother in the same breath. ‘You shall take some round for us tomorrow. And I want you to carry a bottle of wine very carefully to Mrs Burton. Can you do it, do you think?’
    The child nodded, hesitated before her mother, then kissed her warmly on the cheek.
    ‘You hussy!’ said Mary, but her voice was soft, and thechild saw that she was forgiven. Content at last, she followed her grandmother’s bulk up the narrow stairs.
    The flame of the night light was burning low in the little hollow of its wax. The shadows wavered about the room as the old woman and the child moved towards the bed.
    ‘Now, no staying awake, mind,’ whispered Gran, in a voice that brooked no argument. ‘I don’t know who’s been stuffing your head with nonsense, but you can forget it. Get off to sleep, like Frances there. You’ll see Father Christmas has been, as soon as you wake up.’
    She kissed the child, and tucked in the bedclothes tightly.
    Jane listened to her grandmother’s footsteps descending the creaking stairs, sighed for her