Gertie couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked for so many people. She was glad that her vegetable crops had been successful that year. She had plenty of potatoes and carrots, and even managed to acquire a chicken to roast.
Charles was the first to arrive. “Something smells good, Gertie,” he said as she took his coat and led him into the living room. He greeted Hedy like an old friend, and the two sat chatting companionably while Christmas carols echoed softly from the gramophone.
Mrs. Constantine arrived next. She handed over a bottle of sherry with a wink. “Something to keep out the cold.”
Gertie was pouring glasses for them all when a knock at the door signaled the arrival of Billy and his mother. The little boy stood on the doorstep holding up a model spitfire for her to admire. “Happy Christmas, Gertie Bingham.”
“Happy Christmas, young man. Was that a gift from Father Christmas by any chance?”
Billy nodded in delight. “And I got a bar of chocolate, a walnut, and an orange. But it was funny because the orange didn’t have any peel on it.”
“That’s because I used it in the mixture for this,” whispered Elizabeth, handing over a blue-striped basin with a cloth-tied top.
Gertie laughed. “Thank you, dear. It was good of you to make the pudding.”
As they sat down for dinner, Gertie looked around at the faces of the people in this unusual gathering. If you had told her two years previously that she would be celebrating Christmas with an exiled Russian aristocrat, a Jewish refugee, and a five-year-old boy, she would never have believed it. And yet, she couldn’t imagine anywhere she’d rather be. Of course, she dearly wished that Harry were by her side, along with her parents and brother, but that was no longer the reality, and in this topsy-turvy war-ravaged world, you had to hold on to the ones who were still with you. Each person sitting at this table was without someone dear to them. Charles had lost his best friend, Billy and Elizabeth were without the boy’s father, Mrs. Constantine had no family at all, and Hedy—dear Hedy—she was caught in that dreadful no-man’s-land of constantly waiting and hoping for news. As she watched her laugh at something Billy said, while Charles and Mrs. Constantine discussed Russian literature and Elizabeth reached out a hand to tousle her son’s hair, Gertie realized she was happy. There was no telling what tonight or tomorrow would bring, but in the glow of this moment, she felt nothing but joy.
She rose to her feet and held up her glass. “I would like to propose a toast,” she said. “To friends and loved ones old and new, absent and present, but forever in our hearts. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas!” they chorused.
The moment was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Excuse me,” said Gertie. The woman standing on the doorstep was a stranger, but there was something about her dark brown eyes that seemed familiar to Gertie. She was dressed in a smart red wool coat with matching hat and a fur stole over her shoulders.
“I’m most terribly sorry to bother you,” she said, “but I was wondering if you knew of the whereabouts of Elizabeth Chambers.”
“Mother?” said Elizabeth, appearing at Gertie’s shoulder. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Oh, Elizabeth, I had to see you.”
“Grandmama!” cried Billy, bolting down the hallway into her arms. “I got a model spitfire!”
“Oh, my dear heart,” said the woman, clutching him to her as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Would you care to come in?” asked Gertie.
“Oh, well, that would be rather—”
“No. It’s all right. We can say what we need to on the doorstep,” said Elizabeth, folding her arms.
“Oh, Mummy, please, can Grandmama stay?”
Elizabeth stared at her son’s pleading face and sighed. “As long as we’re not intruding on Gertie.”
“Not at all, my dear. Your mother would be most welcome.”
Elizabeth turned to her son. “Billy, why don’t you show Grandmama what you got for Christmas.”
“Actually, I have something for you in the car.” She glanced over her shoulder, gesturing to the chauffeur, who retrieved a large box from the back seat and brought it over.
Billy’s eyes grew wide. “Is that for me?”
His grandmother nodded. “Shall we take it inside?” She held out a hand to Gertie. “Lady Mary Wilcox.”
The woman had such a regal air that Gertie had to fight the urge to curtsy. “Delighted to meet you. I’m Gertie Bingham. Would you care for some tea?”
“That would be most kind.”
Despite her aristocratic pedigree, Gertie was tickled to see Lady Mary crawling on her hands and knees with her grandson when she returned with the tea. Much to Billy’s delight, his grandmother had brought him a tin hat and a wooden rifle. “I am Sergeant Billy Chambers,” he said to them all. “And I will protect you from the Jerries.”
“Oh, how wonderful. Thank you, Sergeant Chambers,” said Lady Mary, placing a hand on her heart.
Gertie noticed Elizabeth standing on the sidelines, watching them with a reserved expression. “Tea, dear?” she asked.
“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, taking it from her.
“It’s lovely to see Billy having fun,” said Gertie.
“Yes. It’s just a shame he can’t see his grandmother more often,” said Elizabeth with a note of bitterness. “Excuse me.” She disappeared from the room.
Gertie was about to follow when she caught sight of the time. “Gather ’round, everyone,” she said. “The King’s speech is about to start.”
They sat in silence. Even Billy was quiet, swooping his spitfire through the air as they listened: We must hold fast to the spirit which binds us together now. We shall need this spirit in each of our own lives as men and women, and shall need it even more among the nations of the world. We must go on thinking less about ourselves and more for one another, for so, and so only, can we hope to make the world a better place and life a worthier thing. Gertie caught Hedy’s eye and they shared a smile.
When it was over, Lady Mary rose to her feet. “I should go now.”
“Oh, please stay, Grandmama,” said Billy.
She cupped his face in her hands and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll see you again soon, dear heart,” she said. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. God bless.”
Gertie followed her out to the hall as Elizabeth emerged from the kitchen. Mother and daughter stared at each other for a moment. Lady Mary moved toward her daughter with her hand outstretched, but Elizabeth took a step back. “Please don’t be angry with me, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth regarded her coldly. “How is Father?”
Lady Mary’s eyes misted. “It’s hard for him, you know.”
“It’s hard for all of us.” She stared at her mother for a moment before turning away. “Thank you for Billy’s gift. Goodbye,” she said, disappearing back into the living room.
Lady Mary sighed before following Gertie to the door. She paused on the threshold. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Bingham. As you may have noticed, I have a turbulent relationship with my daughter, but I love her and my grandson dearly.”