Martha’s Christmas Wish

Author’s notes: This story was written for the annual Jix author Secret Santa. The original recipient, who chose the criteria, was Robin. Merry Christmas, Robin! I hope you enjoyed the story. Mary N. (Dianafan) very kindly edited. Thank you, Mary! I really appreciate your help and encouragement. Merry Christmas, everyone!

* * *

Martha Templeton glanced around the room and gave a soft sigh. The old, familiar furniture looked a little strange against its new, rather bland, backdrop. In one corner, an ancient record player was softly playing Bing Crosby, as he dreamt of a white Christmas. A gentle smile creased her face as she picked up the framed photograph of her late husband.

“A little lonely, love,” she murmurred. “Still, it’s easier than staying in the old place all alone. I’m sure I’ll make some new friends soon.” She let out another sigh. “I’d like a little young life around the place, though.”

Her eyes strayed to the other photographs on display: children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, weddings, babies and family events. A twinkle came into her eyes as she gazed upon her own wedding photograph.

“Do you remember the Christmas you proposed to me?” she asked her husband’s picture. “So romantic. I’d like to go to a wedding, and Christmas is the perfect time for a proposal.” Her brow creased as she considered each of her grandchildren in turn. “Now, who could be next?” she wondered. “Melissa is too young… Catherine can’t seem to keep a boyfriend for two weeks together… Not one of the boys – I’d rather be related to the bride… Definitely not Sophie – I don’t think it really counts when she’s been living with the boy for the past two years!”

The supply of eligible grandchildren having been exhausted, Martha considered where else she might find a potential bride. Her gaze settled upon a picture of her childhood home, Crabapple Farm. Her nephew Peter had a daughter of about the right age and, if memory served her correctly, the girl had a steady boyfriend. A few other memories of the young lady in question brought to mind the beginnings of a scheme.

Her old face alight with mischief, Martha picked up the telephone and dialled. It was answered, a few moments later, by a woman.

“Helen?” the old lady asked. “It’s Aunt Martha.”

“How good to hear from you!” the younger woman responded. “How are you settling in?”

For a few minutes, Martha made conversation, sharing a few details of her new home and asking after various family members. She was gratified to hear that her memories of her great-niece’s situation were correct. When the time was right, she brought up the purpose of her call.

“I was wondering whether your daughter might help me with a few things,” she suggested, in the most tentative of tones. “Could I, by any chance, speak to her?”

Helen answered in the affirmative, and promised to fetch Trixie. In a few moments, Martha had the opportunity she sought.

“Now, Trixie,” she directed, after greetings had been exchanged, “there are a few things I need done and I think you will be the one to help me. Your father has always told me how helpful you are to old folk.”

“I like helping people, Aunt Martha,” Trixie agreed, with a smile in her voice. “What do you need?”

“This and that,” the old lady replied vaguely. “If you could come to see me, I could explain them all – oh, and you’d need to bring your boyfriend. I have a few things that we’ll need someone tall for – he is tall, isn’t he, dear? I’m sure I remember your mother saying so, once.”

“That’s right, Aunt Martha.” To Martha’s satisfaction, the amused tone was still present in her great-niece’s voice. “When would you like us to be there?”

After a short discussion, they settled a tentative time, to be confirmed after Trixie had spoken to Jim. Martha’s face creased into a smile as she ended the conversation. All in all, her plan looked very promising, indeed.

* * *

“Hello, Aunt Martha? Are you there?” a young, female voice called faintly, as the old lady shuffled towards the door. She had heard the bell, and had been anticipating the arrival eagerly, but it still took a little time to answer.

“Coming!” she replied. She threw open the door and welcomed the young couple inside. “Can I get some something warm to drink? Something to eat?”

“Maybe after we’ve done some work,” Trixie replied, smiling. “What did you want us to do?”

“Well, now,” the old lady mused. “Shall we begin with the Christmas decorations? I have everything ready here, and the nice young man who delivered the tree has it all set up. I do like to have a tree, but it’s a little too much for me to decorate it all by myself.”

Within minutes, the small living room was swathed in strands of lights, as Jim checked them over. Martha sat back in her comfortable chair and watched as the pair transformed the bare tree into a beautiful sight.

“Oh! I seem to have forgotten something!” she cried, as the finishing touches were put on the tree. “Now, where did I put that other box? Trixie, dear, could you please check in the other room? I’m sure that I took out the box of special ornaments, but I don’t seem to have brought it in.”

“Sure,” the young woman replied, easily.

“Now, I’d like a word with you, young man,” Martha whispered, when her great-niece was out of ear-shot. “I understand that you’ve been seeing Trixie for some time, now.”

Jim nodded, and a slight blush suffused his face. “Yes, ma’am. That’s right.”

And I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Very significant.” She gave him a shrewd look. “I don’t suppose you understand what that means.”

“No, ma’am,” Jim replied. “I can’t say that I understand at all.”

“I thought as much.” Martha suppressed a smile. “What are your intentions towards my great-niece?”

“Entirely honorable!” Jim breathed, while the redness of his face increased markedly.

“I’m an old lady, now, you understand? I don’t have time for beating around the bush. Besides, I’ve seen plenty of life, and what I know is that sometimes young men need a little help in doing what’s right.” She patted him gently on the arm. “Christmas is a very romantic time for a proposal, you know.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Jim replied faintly, as his girlfriend re-entered the room.

“The only box of ornaments I could find was this one,” she began in dubious tones, before noticing the strange tension in the room. Her eyes narrowed, but she made no comment. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” her elderly relative replied. Delicately, she extracted one of the novelty ornaments, a Snoopy with antlers, and dangled it from a finger. “I hang these for the grandchildren. Make sure they each get a good spot.”

Trixie’s face took on an indulgent smile as she turned to do her aunt’s bidding. She glanced at Jim as she hung Snoopy in the prime position. Martha nodded slowly and gave Jim a significant look of her own. In answer, he blushed once more, and bent to his task.

* * *

The small apartment was fully decked in its festive clothes and a variety of odd jobs had been performed. Her list exhausted, Martha served her two helpers with refreshments and looked for an opportunity to begin the next stage of her plan. Through the kitchen window, another elderly lady came into view, as she strolled across the courtyard.

“There is something else I think you could help with, dear,” Martha said to Trixie, with a significant glance towards the window. “That’s Mrs. Sandbourne, who lives just over there, and I’ve noticed something strange happening between her place and mine late at night.”

Martha’s own apartment was the last in the row. Between her building and the next one, a small garden had been planted, with a paved area in the middle. Even now, in the last days of the year, it was fringed with the green branches of conifers and other evergreens. Almost all of her windows looked out upon this pleasant view.

Trixie’s face lit up with curiosity. “What sort of strange thing?”

A gentle smile graced the old lady’s face. “Well, now, at first I thought I was imagining things, but I’ve stayed up on purpose to check. Each night, at exactly a quarter to eleven, there is an odd scraping noise which seems to come from that direction. A moment or two later, a man walks past my bedroom window.”

“A security guard?” Trixie suggested, with just a hint of scepticism.

Martha shook her head. “I’ve checked with the management, and they say that it’s none of their employees.”

“How about a relative of Mrs. Sandbourne, who’s coming to check up on her?”

“She says she has no close relatives,” the old lady contradicted, “and, even if she did, she wouldn’t like to be checked-up upon – she’s really rather reclusive and stand-offish. I’ve had no success in trying to get to know her at all!”

Trixie considered the matter for a moment. “Would you like us to come back later and check it out for you?” she offered.

Martha beamed with approval. “That’s a wonderful idea! But, you don’t need to leave and return. I’ll fix us a nice dinner and you can stay here inside and watch. The telephone is right over here. Why don’t you both call home and say you’ll be late?”

After a moment of consultation, the pair agreed and soon all of the arrangements were made. Satisfied with her afternoon’s work, Martha sat down to chat with her guests.

* * *

“What time is it now?” Trixie asked in a low voice.

“I make it a quarter to eleven,” Jim replied, with a glance at his watch. “It should be any time, now.”

Even as he spoke, an eerie scraping noise came from somewhere outside. Trixie strained to see anything through the window, but could only make out a shadowy shape. A few moments later the noise was repeated, and after a pause of a second or two, the man of whom Aunt Martha had spoken appeared. Tucked into the crook of his arm was something small and swathed in fabric. He took a glance or two over his shoulders as he moved quietly away.

“Quick! Let’s follow him!” Trixie cried, in a low voice.

Together, the pair scampered for the door. Jim’s longer legs allowed him to reach it first and he gently eased it open, so as not to make a noise. Behind him, Trixie was bouncing with impatience. Once outside, they hurried to the corner of the building, hoping to catch up with their quarry. Peering past a convenient shrub, they saw him up ahead.

“Easy,” Jim warned, as his girlfriend was about to rush after the man. “Better stick to the shadows so he doesn’t see us.”

As quietly as possible, they followed until they reached a quiet, ill-lit street. The man took another glance around to see if he was being watched, then got into a parked car, tossing the bundle he had held into the passenger seat. The engine turned over and the vehicle moved smoothly away into the night. It passed under a street lamp, which illuminated it enough to reveal that it was a dark red.

“Could you read the plate?” Trixie breathed, as the car disappeared around a corner.

Jim shook his head. “Too dark. I know the make and model, though.” He turned back the way they had come. “So, what now?”

“We go and see if we can find what made the noise,” Trixie suggested. “Maybe, if we can figure that out, we can try again tomorrow night and catch him in the act.”

A short time later, they returned to the courtyard and began their search. It did not take Trixie long to fix her attention on a decorative birdbath of heavy appearance.

“The top should come off, to make it easier to change the water,” she mused, in a whisper. “Do you think, maybe, there’s a space underneath?”

“One way to find out,” Jim replied. He gripped the bowl on opposite sides and lifted, generating a slight grinding sound as the two parts grated against each other.

“That’s it!” Trixie cried, in the lowest voice she could manage. “That’s exactly the sound, and just look here – there’s a hollow in here a bit bigger than my fist.”

Without another word, Jim replaced the bowl in its original position and ushered his girlfriend inside. When the door had closed behind them, he turned to her. “Maybe we should be calling the police about this. There’s something very strange about the whole set-up, and I expect that a crime is being committed, though I’m not certain what it could be.”

Trixie frowned slightly. “What would we tell them?” she asked. “It’s suspicious, but there’s not really any evidence.” She paused, looking up into his face. “I say we try again tomorrow, only that we start watching earlier, and from somewhere closer.”

There was a sound of movement, before the sound of Martha’s voice. “Did you have any luck, dear?”

Trixie shook her head. “There is a man, and he’s doing something very suspicious, but we’re not sure what it is.” Quickly, she explained the things they had seen. “Would you mind if we tried again tomorrow? We don’t want to be in your way.”

“I asked for your help,” her aunt reminded her. “Yes, please come again tomorrow – any time you like.”

“I think we’ll start watching earlier,” Trixie suggested, “and we’ll need to be somewhere closer to the courtyard. When do you think someone might leave a package there?”

“Certainly not until after dark,” Martha asserted. “At the very earliest, it would be when I sit down to dinner. Before that, I’d be sure to see the person through the kitchen window.”

Trixie nodded with agreement. “In that case, we’ll need to be in place before then.” She smiled. “We’ll get to the bottom of this real quick, Aunt Martha. You can count on us.”

* * *

“I didn’t think it would be this cold,” Trixie admitted, a half-hour into their vigil the following night. Overhead, cloudy skies threatened to bring the season’s first snow. “When this is over, I’m heading home for some hot chocolate in front of the fire.”

In the dim light, she could just make out Jim’s answering smile. A few moments later, there was a movement from the door they were watching. It opened slowly, until it was wide enough to allow a slim figure to slip through. As she emerged into the moonlight, the watching pair recognised the elderly lady they had seen the previous day, Mrs. Sandbourne. Trixie barely dared to breathe as she observed the woman cross to the birdbath and carefully remove the bowl. A small package, similar to the one they had seen the previous night, was inserted in the cavity and the top replaced. In a few moments, she had returned inside.

“I don’t think I would have believed that if I hadn’t seen it!” Jim declared softly. “She didn’t make a sound.”

“The man must be pretty careless to make so much noise,” Trixie replied. She peered through the gloom, trying to see if the old woman was watching. “I’m going to try and see in her window. If she’s not watching, we could take a look at the package.”

Before Jim had time to reply, she was off. Keeping to the shadows, she moved in a large arc to the doorway where they had last seen the woman. The window next to it was in darkness. Glancing back to their hiding-place, she could not see Jim, though she knew he was watching. She peeped through a crack in the curtains, but could see no movement. Turning, she waved to the place she knew Jim was waiting. Swiftly, he emerged from the shadows and retrieved the package. A few moments later, they met in their former position.

“What is it?” she demanded, before he had a chance to untie the knot which held it closed.

“It feels… lumpy,” he replied. “It’s a number of small things.”

Impatiently, Trixie pulled the bundle away from his fumbling fingers and had soon opened the package. Moonlight glinted off a gold watch, some earrings, a bracelet and the large stone in a ring. There was little doubt that these must be stolen goods. The silence took on another character as the two considered the position.

“I think we should put it back,” Trixie decided, finally. “Then, we’ll split up. One of us can go and call the police, then wait here to follow the man; the other can go to the place he parked his car last time, in case he uses the same place tonight.”

Jim nodded slowly, his face filled with concern and tension. “You stay here,” he suggested, with an air of resolve. “If he does park in the same place, I’ll see what I can do to stop him driving away afterwards.”

Surprised at his acquiescence, Trixie shot him a dazzling smile, then got to work. In a few minutes, the trap was set. The minutes dragged past as Trixie waited by the window. For the tenth time, she glanced at her watch and was relieved to find that the wait was almost over – if, of course, the man had not been scared away. A shiver ran up her spine as the eerie scraping noise began. Relief and anxiety warred in Trixie as she waited. A moment later, she heard the bowl being replaced, and soon saw the shadowy figure approach.

With barely a sound, she slipped outside and followed along. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as she saw that the man was getting away and a doubt emerged in her mind as to the assurances of the police officer to whom she had spoken. She kept to the shadows, as the man took the same route he had used the previous night. They arrived at his vehicle, without a hint that he had been observed by anyone else, and he got inside.

Trixie was beside herself, thinking that the man was about to get away. The engine started. Trixie’s heart sank. Nothing happened. The car did not pull out from the curb. A moment later, the engine revved, but still he did not pull out. Through the rear window, she could see the man becoming agitated. He thumped the steering wheel and threw open his door to investigate the problem.

There was the sound of a vehicle approaching, as the man knelt down beside the car. He reached underneath and began to struggle with something he had found. At that moment, a police cruiser rounded the corner at an easy pace and the man scrambled to his feet. He reached inside the car to grab the small bundle and took flight on foot. Red and blue lights blinked to life as the pursuit began. The chase did not last long. Half a dozen yards away from his vehicle, the man tripped and fell headlong into the pavement. With a screech, the police car halted and two officers had soon apprehended the man.

Secure in the knowledge that he was well in hand, Trixie turned her attention to the reason why the man had tripped and soon found that he had encountered Jim’s foot.

“You did it!” she cried, hurling herself into Jim’s arms.

“We make a pretty good team, don’t you think?” he replied, while returning the embrace. “How about we make it a little more permanent?”

Trixie stopped short. “What do you mean?” Her voice was filled with wonder and excitement.

“Trixie, will you marry me?” he asked.

“Yes!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him fervently.

* * *

“Well, that all worked out very well, my dear,” Martha murmured to her husband’s picture a few days later. “Helen assures me that I’ll be invited to the wedding and that nasty, unfriendly woman next door has gone and won’t be back.” She settled back in her chair, ready for a long discussion of the matter.

“And to think that she lied to me about not having any close family. A son is close family, no matter what he’s done! Of course, the very fact that he was fencing stolen goods for her would be ample reason to keep quiet about him. I just hope that someone nicer moves in soon.” She sighed. “I do miss you the most at Christmas, Hugh. And, this year, I miss having a front porch to decorate. I had to give the reindeer to Helen and Peter, though I’m sure that they’ll look after it well.”

She set the photograph down and gazed across at the tree, with its time-worn ornaments and twinkling lights. “So nice of those two to come and help an old person like me,” she continued. “So helpful of Jim to take my hints, too. I like a little romance at Christmastime.” Mischief lit her eyes as another thought occurred. “Maybe, next Christmas, I can give them a hint about babies.”

* * *

Merry Christmas, Robin! (Merry Christmas to everyone else, too!) I hope you enjoyed the story. I had a great time writing for you, especially since I love mystery/romances, too. I hope you have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year (and the same to all of the readers!). — Janice

Please note: Trixie Belden is a registered trademark of Random House Publishing. This site is in no way associated with Random House and no profit is being made from these pages.

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