What Child Is This

by Rhys Bowen

“Just because everyone’s doing it doesn’t make it right. Wrong’s wrong, even in a ruddy war.”

We just have to make the best of things and be happy with what we’ve got.”

but I’ve too much time on my hands to think.

Jack wasn’t a real bad boy but a typical Cockney, ready to take advantage of anything that might come his way, like that sugar falling off a pallet.

“I can’t stay down here, love. I really can’t. It’s awful. All these people, crammed like sardines. And the smells. It fair turns my stomach. It’s like my vision of hell.”

I need you with me, Maggie.” He squeezed her hand now. “I need you. I can’t get through this alone. A wife’s place is with her husband. Isn’t it?” Eventually she nodded. “I suppose it is. But you just tell me where our place is in this world. We don’t have no place, do we?”

“Well, I have given up, haven’t I? I lost my little girl. And now I’ve lost my home, all my things. I’ve got nothing, nowhere. Why shouldn’t I just sit here until I freeze to death?” Jack stroked her cheek. “You’ve still got me, Maggie. I need you,” he said. “Yeah, right. To cook your meals and keep your clothes clean.” “Not just that. I’ve got nothing, either. And I’m nothing without you.

“Come and see what I’ve found!” he called to her. “You won’t believe it. A real miracle.”

For a moment she thought she had seen a white face, peering through the railings on the landing above. “I don’t like it,” she whispered. “I think I saw a ghost.”

Jack gave her a knowing look. “Now who’s wanting to take something that isn’t theirs?” “It’s not the same at all, Jack Harris. I just want to do the best for the boy. He’s lonely. He needs love, and I have the feeling that the Good Lord might have sent us to this house for that very reason.”

She tried not to think, but she could picture it so clearly—she and Peter, running across the fields, playing with dogs, feeding the chickens, and he growing strong and healthy. It was like a Christmas miracle.

She stood staring at the empty street, listening. No bells. On Christmas Day there would always be bells ringing from all the churches—a great cacophony of sound to herald the day. And now silence. Bells were only to be rung to warn of an invasion.

He’s been put into my life for a reason.

“You’ve got me, Maggie,” he said. “You’ve got someone who loves you and who’s going to take care of you. We’ll make it through together, I promise. I’ll take you down to your sister in the morning, and you stay there until I’ve found a new place for us. All right?”

Tears were welling up again in Maggie’s eyes, but this time there was a small bubble of hope. Perhaps there were Christmas miracles after all.