I awoke with a start.

I had fallen asleep!

I shook my head in an attempt to wake up more. How long had I been asleep? I would be in trouble now. Smith was not a patient man and he would…

‘Oof!’

What was that?

I looked up, and in the faint glow of my lamp, I saw a pair of boots waving about a bit.

The boots were attached to red-covered legs.

I was a bit hot and feverish, and I wondered whether I was still dreaming. I put my hand out and touched one of the boots...

---

‘Go on, get up there boy, now or I’ll strap you so help me!’

So, unhappily, I reluctantly made my way up the chimney, as usual.

I would never dare go against my master. He was a cruel man who was often drunk and barely capable of pushing his cart but perfectly able to hit me with his belt or stick if I did not do his bidding.

It was dark up there, and the chimney was narrow. The problem was that I was now eleven years old, and I was getting bigger despite being fed next to nothing. I was finding it difficult to squeeze through some of the tight spaces.

The house was grand, and the housekeeper was stern and did not want any mess on her precious, clean floors.

Like all cleaning boys, as we were called, around my body, I had a belt with which I carried the cleaning tools of my trade, like wire and bristle brushes and a scraper. Around my neck, I had a cloth bag to hold any of the black soot that I was able to dislodge.

After an hour or so, I had no real idea of the time; I was finally finished, only happy that my master did not see fit to light a fire beneath me to hurry me along. This was not as unusual as you might think, and at least one boy, to my knowledge, had died as a result of a sweep using that terrible practice. As it was, Smith clipped me around the ear for taking too long to do the job.

So, I suppose I should say a few words about my history and how I finished up with this heartless man.

I was born in a workhouse and named Albert by the workhouse authorities. I never knew my mother as she had died in childbirth, common enough, to be sure. My father could have been anyone and I have no information regarding him.

I received a very rudimentary education. I was able to read and write a little, but I did not have any great talent. I was taught just enough to get by.

I thought that living in the workhouse was bad enough, but at the tender age of 8, I was cast out and apprenticed to Bert Smith, a local parish chimney sweep who had another boy apprenticed who had become too ill and large to do the harsh work expected of him. I never saw him and have no idea as to what happened to him.

And so I replaced the other boy and without any training except what Smith called, ‘On the job’.

It was like Hell on Earth. I was fed just enough to at least have the strength to carry out the work, but it was never enough. I slept in a damp, tiny room without heat, in the attic of Smith's house.

I had been in this situation for about three years, and I saw little hope of getting away and living any sort of decent life, except for the fact that all too soon, I would become too big to be a climbing boy. I did not doubt that when that time came, I would be handed over to someone else to work for. There were plenty of tradesmen looking for cheap labour to do disgusting work. They say that slavery had been abolished, but what I was doing was slavery under a different name.

As it was, I was covered in sores that did not heal, had a hacking cough from the dust and never felt well. I wondered if I would manage to stay alive until my twelfth birthday. I had heard about others in my situation who did not manage to live to their teenage years. It did not bear thinking about, although, occasionally, I wondered if I would be better off dead than in the situation that I found myself in.

I must admit to feeling jealous about the people who lived in the fancy houses where we visited to clean out chimneys.

We mostly saw the maids and servants in those great houses, and I must admit that I would not have minded in the least to be in their position where they had clean clothes and a nice place to live where they were fed well and looked after.

On the rare occasions that I glimpsed the owners or the family in the houses that we visited, I marvelled at the luxury of their surroundings and the splendid clothes that they wore.

In my squalid bedroom, if you could call it that, I occasionally dreamed that I was a child in one of those places where I was loved and cared for in a manner that I had never experienced in my short life.

It was strange, though, as I always dreamt that I was not a boy but a girl in a wonderful, pretty dress with long, shiny hair of loose curls and pretty ribbons. In my dreams, I had a sister who was very similar to me, who was fun to be with and my best friend, too. It was always a very happy dream, and during those times, I really felt that I was that girl and lived a life of luxury with parents who loved me so much…

Then I awoke to the reality of my situation, and I felt all the sadder for it.

I often wondered why my dreams always presented me as being a girl rather than a boy. After a while, I accepted it and just could not wait until I fell asleep and continued my fanciful journey as Laura, a name I coined for myself as one that I would have liked to have been if I had been born a girl.

Late one day I was helping my master, Smith to pull the cart to our next destination, a regular customer in the mansion just outside of town.

It was very late on what had been a very cold day and the sky was dark, threatening even more snow than we had already had.

It was Christmas Eve.

We had just finished cleaning a particularly dirty and clogged-up chimney at a house in town, and my feet and hands were nearly frozen.

On the way to that house, we went through the cobbled main street with its dusting of snow. Many shops were still open, and lots of people were milling about getting their final goods before Christmas. The smells from some of those food shops made my parched mouth water somewhat, especially the bakers.

Smith stopped at the baker's, and my spirits soared. Being the season of goodwill, I hoped against hope that he would show me a bit of kindness of the season and perhaps get me a cake or pie to eat before going on to our next call.

‘Stay here and watch the cart,’ he grumbled.

He went into the shop and my anticipation rose as I wondered what he would buy me. Perhaps he was not such a bad man after all.

To take my thoughts away from my grumbling stomach, I looked over to the other side of the road, where some children were making happy noises as they stood and looked into a toy shop window. They all looked happy and excited as they pointed at the various bright and colourful things with their parents. Some of them went into the shop. One girl, I noticed was wearing a lovely bonnet and a warm Christmassy coat and, to my shame, I felt some envy of her. I would have loved to be that girl.

I wondered why I felt that way. Why did I not wish to be a little boy going into that shop? Just then, a rosy-cheeked boy came out with what I assumed was his father. He was, I guessed, about my age and he looked as happy as anything as he carried a parcel down the road with his father. He was chattering away and his father was laughing as they went.

It made me smile for a moment and I wondered what it would be like to be in the shoes of that boy, but somehow, I knew that it was a girl I had wished to be, just like in my dreams…

‘Here boy,’ said my master as I was suddenly brought back to reality.

He shoved some stale bread into my hands as he bit down on a hot steamy pie.

This was my reality, and I nearly cried at the selfish gluttony and lack of care that he had for me.

I should not have been surprised; he had shown no love or care for me before, why would he change now?

It took but a moment to eat the hard bread, and after Smith had finished his pie, the smell of which was torture to my senses, he washed it down using a flask of brandy that he always had about his person. We carried on to our destination. We arrived late, very late. It was only the fact that it was an urgent job with a regular client who evidently paid well that we were out that late at night.

The walk up the long drive with the cart seemed to take forever. Snow had started to fall again, and if I was in a better mind, I would no doubt wonder at how pretty the scene was. However, I was cold, tired and hungry, and I wondered, not for the first time if I would be strong enough to climb up the chimney.

To the side was the great park, I could see deer grazing in the distance near the large lake. Trees were rustling in the breeze, and I wondered if we were in for a storm.

Smith was guzzling at the rum bottle that he always kept with him. He could have offered me some, but he was too stingy for that. However, the one time I tried the strong liquid, I nearly coughed my lungs up.

Looking up, there was a break in the clouds, and I saw a shooting star, which made me smile. Was that a sign of good luck?

‘Get a move on boy, before I beat the hell out of you!’ slurred Smith, and my thoughts came tumbling back to Earth.

The mansion was imposing, with huge columns on each side of the large double doors, but we would not be entering that way, we would have to go around the back as befitting our standard in society, or lack of it.

There were some carriages outside, with horses and drivers waiting patiently to carry people from the house at some later time.

The men looked cold, but at least they were well clothed for the elements, unlike myself.

I could see that the house was well-lit and heard music, carols and laughter coming from somewhere inside.

Eventually, we arrived at the tradesmen’s entrance. After Smith took a large swig of rum and hid his bottle, he wiped his mouth and nose with his sleeve, burped loudly and then knocked on the door. I waited there, head bent, shivering so much that my teeth were chattering. I could not feel my feet; it was that cold. My breath was laboured, my poor lungs feeling the strain of my exertions that day.

After a few moments, the door was opened, and a man wearing an apron opened it and stared at us with some distaste.

‘You took your time Sweep.’

‘Sorry,’ slurred Smith, swaying slightly, ‘we ‘ad anuver job.’

The man sniffed.

‘You’d best come in then, and I’ll show you where to go. Wipe your feet, and don’t make a mess carrying your stuff.’

‘Yesh Mr Brown,’ replied my master subserviently.

We carried our things into the hall by the side of the kitchen. I nearly fainted with hunger at the wonderful smells that I breathed in. Soon, though, we were led along a plain passage obviously not used by the owners and the family but by the various servants that the great house employed.

We were then up some stairs to a door.

At least it was warmer in the house, away from the biting winter wind, and for that, I was truly grateful. I was feeling very tired, which was not a new thing for me. It was late, and we had worked longer hours, even more than we usually did. It was Christmas time, and for the past week, the calls on us had been even more than usual.

The servant led the way, keeping up a rather fast pace as though he didn’t want to be with us any longer than necessary.

The brushes and other tools were heavy for me and Smith made sure that I did most of the carrying whilst he took the occasional crafty drink from his bottle, out of sight of the servant.

The corridor we were now in was much nicer than the one we had just come from, with thick carpeting and lovely, expensively decorated walls with many pictures hanging along them. We finally reached a door, and the servant turned to us.

‘Be very quiet; the young Miss is asleep in the bedroom next door, and you must not make noise. It is her bedroom that the chimney needs sweeping, and she is using a guest one. Can I trust you to do your work and leave the way you came? I am very busy downstairs and do not have time to stay and supervise you.’

‘Of course, yer can rely on me, and ‘im, I shuppose,’ he replied, pointing a shaky finger at me.

The servant shook his head and sighed for some reason.

The door opened and we went through.

‘I will leave you to it. If you make a mess, you will not be paid, so be careful.’

With a sniff of derision, he took a final look at us, said something unintelligible under his breath, and left us to it.

I looked about the room. It was a lovely room, and it was obvious that it was a girl’s room with nice pastel shades, toys in the corner and a large bed with colourful covers and a pretty dolly sitting on a pillow.

How I would have loved a room like that. There was a large, mirrored wardrobe to one side and I would have loved to look in it to see the no doubt pretty dresses hanging there…

‘What yer day dreamin’ about boy? We need ter work fast. I have anover nice bottle of rum to drink later an’ I don't intend to stay long.’

We covered everything we could with sheets that had been provided, and then it was time for me to do my work.

I will not go through what we did to clear the chimney. Eventually and inevitably, I was sent up to do my work. I carried a lantern so that I could see what I was doing.

As I disappeared up the chimney, Smith cursed.

‘Bugger me; I’ve not got me small brush. I’ll have ter go an’ get it. You carry on and don’t make a mess yer little devil.’

I heard the door open and close as I carried on up the chimney.

I made my way slowly up, cleaning as I went and trying not to breathe in the cloying dust.

I stopped for a moment and, using a dirty cloth to cover my mouth and nose, tried to get my breath back.

There are strange things that happened sometimes when I was up a chimney; you could hear conversations coming from other rooms.

Two women were talking from somewhere and I could hear them quite clearly. By the sound of them, they were maids or suchlike.

‘Well Molly, they are having a fine time downstairs.’

‘Yes, the master and mistress always put on a good do.’

‘Such a nice couple and so polite, even to the likes of us. My previous place was so different, and I hated the master there, but here, it’s like chalk and cheese.’

‘Well, I have been here since I was thirteen, and they have never spoken a cross word to me. And Miss Angela, she is such a pretty young thing and just like her parents. No airs and graces there. It’s a pity that her twin sister did not survive her birth. I wonder what she would have been like?’

‘Just as nice as Miss Angela, I’ll warrant. Anyway, the cook has said we could have some punch if we finish our work quickly. Let us finish off and go down.’

I heard no more, and I wondered what it would be like to work in a place like this. Perhaps I could run away and try my luck away from my horrible master, Smith.

I sighed; I had no time to daydream. I would get the belt if I did not do the work to the satisfaction of my master.

I made my way further up the chimney. It was fairly wide compared to the more normal, narrow ones that I had often dealt with, which was a good thing.

I was getting so tired by now that all I wanted to do was sleep. It was strange that Smith had not returned, or perhaps he was being quiet because of the sleeping girl in the next room.

I came across a narrow ledge and decided to take a little breather. I could not continue without a rest.

I put my feeble oil lamp down and just sat there, breathing hard and feeling not a little light-headed. I had a paroxysm of coughing. Perhaps I was becoming ill, an occupational hazard in my work. Many boys have died as a result of being a climbing boy through illness or accident.

I shut my eyes for a moment…

I dreamt that I was that little girl again, the recurring dream where I was a happy little girl with loving parents who looked after me, and it was all so real…

I awoke with a start.

I had fallen asleep!

I shook my head in an attempt to wake up more. How long had I been asleep? I would be in trouble now. Smith was not a patient man and he would…

‘Oof!’

What was that?

I looked up, and in the faint glow of my lamp, I saw a pair of boots waving about a bit.

The boots were attached to red-covered legs.

I was a bit hot and feverish, and I wondered whether I was still dreaming. I put my hand out and touched one of the boots.

‘Hello? Is anyone down there?’

‘Erm yes, it’s me.’

‘Well “me”, give my leg a pull, will you? I am stuck.’

Without thought, I gave the leg a pull.

There was a cloud of soot, and I coughed a bit, and then before me was the face of a rather large man with a white, almost white full beard speckled with soot.

He struggled a bit and then, with another ‘oof sound’, joined me on the ledge. I had to move over as it was somewhat tight there.

‘That’s better. I thought that I might find you here.’

What did he mean by that? I wondered.

‘Well,’ he continued, ‘you must be Albert.’

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I know a lot of things, including the names of all the children born now and before’.

‘Who are you?’

‘Do you not recognise me?’

‘Erm, Santa Claus?’

‘That is me. I am sometimes called that or Father Christmas and occasionally St Nicholas. Close your mouth, you are creating a draft.’

I did as he asked; was I still dreaming?

‘You may be wondering why I am here.’

I said the first thing that came into my head.

‘Well, it is Christmas Eve.’

‘Clever child, that is right, and on this day, I am rather busy delivering presents to deserving children.’

Yes, I was obviously dreaming, and I just accepted that fact and carried on this strange conversation from inside my head.

‘How do you visit all the children on this one night to deliver your presents?’

‘That is a secret that I cannot divulge except to say that time is somewhat different for me than you, both past, present and future.’

That was confusing, what did he mean by that?

He had a jolly, kindly face and his nose wrinkled slightly when he smiled.

‘Why did you get stuck in the chimney?’

‘Too many mince pies and other good things. But I do not usually get stuck as I can normally alter the size of my body to fit into the smallest of spaces. However, on this occasion, I wanted to draw your attention to me.’

‘Why?’

He frowned slightly.

‘Are you happy in your life?’

With little hesitation, I replied, ‘no, not really.’

‘Hmm, I thought not. If you had a wish for things to be different, what would you wish for?’

‘I…I cannot say.’

‘Why not.’

‘It is something that I cannot have.’

‘A happy life, you would wish for that?’

‘Of course.’

‘One that is free from hardship?’

‘Yes, but there are many like me, so there is no hope.’

‘I agree that many are faced with a sad life and hardship. But I can, in some small way, help certain people, and you are one of them. I wish that I could do more for many others, but that is the way of it. Now, I ask again, would you like a change in your life for the better?’

I yawned. I was so tired. I did not know you could yawn while you were dreaming. I just nodded.

‘So it shall be. Sleep little one.’

With drooping eyes, I looked at him, and he was smiling. He had such a kind face, full of compassion. It was a shame that this was just a dream…

I awoke with a start.

Smith would kill me. I knew he would. He had been saying for a while that I wasn’t up to the job and he would pass me on to someone else, no doubt to make me work at another God-forsaken place. I was apprenticed to him, but that meant nothing to him. We were tools to be used and discarded when no longer of use.

Wait a moment.

I wasn’t up that chimney; I was in a bed!

A soft bed, softer than any that I had ever been in.

Where was I?

Had I died in that chimney and gone to Heaven?

There was a glow coming from a fireplace and I felt toasty warm.

In the glow of the fire, I sat up and pinched my arm.

‘Ow!’

I then noticed that I had a headache, my nose was a bit blocked, and my throat was sore.

I must have a cold, I thought.

Then I noticed that I was wearing soft white clothes with long sleeves.

I brushed the hair out of my eyes.

That was stranger still. I had very little hair as it had been cut short due to virulent head lice and nits. No, my hair had now grown to a very long length.

This must be one of my dreams, I thought.

I will wake up soon, sitting on that ledge in that cold black chimney.

But I had felt pain when I pinched myself.

Can you feel pain like that when you are dreaming?

I pinched myself again, harder this time.

Yes, it was painful to do that.

Then I remembered Santa Claus stuck up the chimney. Was that just another strange dream?

What is the real me, up that horrid chimney or lying in this lovely bed?

All those thoughts ran through me like a hot knife through butter.

I pulled off the covers and shakily got out of the nice warm bed, I realised that I was wearing a long nightdress made of the softest cloth I had ever felt. In the soft glow of the fire, I could see that it was pure white.

Looking back, I saw that the bed was luxurious to my eyes and nothing like the hard shelf that I normally used as a bed in my master’s house.

The sheets were clean and white. I usually slept under a rough, flea-ridden blanket.

Once again, I pinched myself and felt the pain of it.

I would have to stop doing that!

I hesitantly walked over to the fire, the strange fine nightdress feeling heavenly over my body. I could see some candlesticks. There were some matches next to one of them, and after a few attempts, I managed to light one of the candles and then another.

Now that the room was more illuminated, I could see how lovely and luxurious it all was, and the room was very similar to that little girl’s room where I had gone up the chimney.

It seemed somehow a long time ago when that happened, and I was, I suppose, in a sort of shocked state. I did not know fact from fiction and or dreams from reality.

Over to the side was a large wardrobe with a long mirror on the door. I unsteadily walked over to the mirror and looked at myself.

Staring at me with wide eyes was a young girl, a pretty young girl with dark curly hair peeking out from a white nightcap tied with pink ribbons at the back.

It took me a moment to realise that the girl was me! I pulled the nightcap off my head as the hair cascaded down beyond my shoulders.

Had some kindly soul taken me in while I was perhaps deadly ill and dressed me thus? How long had I been there for my hair to grow so long?

Why was I wearing clothes so evidently made for a girl?

I turned around and lifted the nightdress up from behind.

There were no bruises that I would have expected if I had been here for a while, bruises fade, after all. My legs were clean and with no blemishes or sores on them.

The important thing was that I had no scars from where Smith had repeatedly hit me with a stick or his belt.

I then noticed my feet; once again, no sores or callouses from the awful footwear that I had been forced to wear that had been little more than second or third-hand boots that never fitted properly.

Something was missing, and I could not explain what it was.

I went back over to the bed and sat down. I was even more bemused than before, and yes, something was nagging at me.

Then I realised.

I stood up once again and with shaking hands, I tentatively lifted the nightdress from my legs.

Where once was my penis and balls, there was just a slit!

I cannot explain the shock of all this, I felt very faint and almost blacked out but managed somehow to climb back into that lovely soft bed, pull the covers up and lay my rather fevered head on the so very soft pillow.

But then I felt the rustle of paper from under the pillow.

What is this?

I sat up once again and reached under the pillow.

There was a red envelope. On it was written, Albert.

With shaking hands, I took out a slip of paper from within the envelope.

This is what was written.

Albert,

You may think that this is a dream. It is not. You are now the little girl you always wished to be. You did not say that this was your wish, but I was able to look into your heart and tell that this was what you wanted above everything.

You can now live a full and happy life as a girl. Accept this for what it is: a special gift from Santa Claus to you.

Then something strange happened.

The letter and envelope blew out of my hand and flew into the fire, making the paper go up in red smoke. This was strange, as there was no breeze in the bedroom, and the windows were closed and the curtains drawn across.

It was all too much for me to take in. I just got back into bed and fell into an almost dreamless sleep.

I say almost, but at some point, I heard some whispering, and then my hair was brushed from my face, and I felt the gentlest of kisses on my cheek…

‘Laura, wake up, come on it’s Christmas Day, oh come on you silly goose, you always do this, get up, get up!’

Someone was jumping up and down on my bed.

I cracked open an eye.

There was a girl there, wearing a pretty satin dress in blue.

‘Who are you?’ I asked croakily, my mouth was dry.

‘What!’

I coughed.

‘Who are you?’

‘Don’t be silly Laura. Are you playing with me?’

I coughed again and sniffed. My throat was very dry.

‘Water?’

‘Water?’

‘Yes, I am thirsty.’

She got off the bed and went over to the side, where there was a carafe of water and a glass. She poured some water into the glass and then came over to me.

‘There you are. I hope that you haven't got a cold on Christmas Day too. That would be a rotten thing.’

She sat on the bed, and as I sipped at the water with a slightly shaking hand, she tenderly felt my forehead.

‘Gosh, you are hot. Stay here, I will go and tell Mama.’

I did feel a little hot and thought that I might have come down with something like a cold, but that was nothing compared to how I was before.

She had called me Laura!

Yes, I was still very confused as to what had happened, and when I awoke, I did not know what to think when that girl started jumping all over the bed excitedly.

At least her leaving to find her Mama gave me a little time to compose myself if that was at all possible.

This was so unreal. What had happened to me, was I going mad? Living in squalor and having such a terrible job as a chimney sweeps boy had perhaps sent me over the edge. Then there was seeing Santa Claus up that chimney, that must have been an illusion surely?

I remembered that letter under the pillow, was that a fiction brought about by my illness?

I was still here, though, and it all looked so real. I looked at my arm and lifted the sleeve. There were slight marks from when I remembered I had pinched myself the night before.

This all seemed so real now.

I reluctantly put my hand under the covers and felt between my legs…

My boy things had gone, leaving me with…no, I could not think of that!

I took my hand away as if I had picked up a hot coal!

Am I a girl after all, and was everything that happened before true?

I coughed again, felt shivery, and my dry throat was feeling rather sore. Perhaps I was ill, and this was somehow a result of all that had happened to me.

I had another sip of the cool water.

Then, something strange happened.

I had a vague memory.

It was like a jigsaw puzzle, fragmented but piece by piece, coming into place.

I somehow recalled being very small, and memories started to emerge as I seemed to be growing up not as Albert but as a girl, a girl called Laura!

The girl that I was in my dreams!

It was like the glass the girl had filled with water for me.

The glass, once empty, had been filled, and my brain now had memories of Laura and my sister Angela...

I was the twin of Angela!

I had not lost any memories of being Albert, though, and I recalled quite clearly the conversation that I had heard whilst up in that filthy chimney the previous night where I had overheard the conversation of those maids. They had talked about a girl who had died at birth, and her name was Laura, the very name that Angela if that was who she was, called me before she left to find her Mama.

It was as if I was two people in the same body.

Was I going mad?

Who was I, Albert, Laura or both…

The door opened, and a woman, a fine, lovely woman, came in.

Somehow, I knew instantly that she was my Mama.

She looked concerned as she approached me, her long, fine, satin dress rustling slightly as she walked over.
‘Laura darling, are you feeling unwell?’

That soft, sweet voice. I had never heard of such kindness and compassion. I somehow knew instantly that she was indeed my mama.

She sat on the bed next to me.

Her soft hand felt my forehead.

‘Oh, you do seem a bit hot. Angela said as such. And you have a sore throat and feel a bit poorly. Is that right?’

I nodded.

So that girl was Angela.

Despite trying to hold my feelings in, I burst into tears.

I felt Mama come close, and then she embraced me. I could smell her sweet perfume as she said comforting things to me that made me feel instantly much better.

So, this was what it was like to have a loving mother.

After a few minutes of this loving embrace. She let go of me, plumped up my pillows and allowed me to sink in the warm embrace of the bed.

‘Just lay here and have some rest. I will get Cook to make you a nice drink to soothe your throat. It looks like you need a bit of bed rest. I do not think that you have anything more than a cold, Darling, but I’m afraid that Christmas will be on hold for you for a while. We will make it up to you, I promise. You will not miss anything, and I think Santa has left some presents for you under the tree.

‘Papa is out at the moment, doing his usual good deeds on Christmas Day, but he will come and see you when he comes home. I’ve told Angela not to pester you…no, do not say anything, save your throat. I’ll see you a bit later my darling.’

She gave me another kiss on my forehead with her oh so soft lips, and then, with a smile, she left me to my rather confused and tangled thoughts.

Was I dreaming still? I did not truly understand what was happening to me. I sniffed and felt under my pillow for a handkerchief that I knew Mama had placed there for me.

I blew my nose and then put the handkerchief back and then my hand felt a slip of paper under there.

Pulling it out and sitting up, I opened the folded piece of paper and with wide eyes, I read one word written there:

Believe

Then, suddenly, the paper flew from my hand and shot into the fire, where it was consumed by the fire, but not before there was a tiny fireworks display of all the colours of the rainbow!

Believe, that was what the paper said.

I sighed.

Another note from Santa?

It must have been.

I believed then, truly believed that I was now Laura and Albert was just a dream or perhaps a nightmare that had now been corrected. This was the true me.

I had no idea how I had been chosen to have a second chance at having a happy life, but I would embrace it with all my heart.
I lay back with a sigh.

More things about my life as Laura came back to my slightly fevered brain.

I recalled growing up with my dear sister and being as close to her as anyone who is an identical twin could be.

My happy life as a privileged girl was all anyone could have wished for, with a mama and papa who loved me dearly. I was lucky, very lucky now, and my situation was the complete opposite of what I had experienced as Albert.

I had never before believed in magic, but now magic had happened to me, and I was determined to accept the truth of what had happened to me and embrace it with all my heart.

My thoughts of Albert were now fading, but I felt in my heart that it never went away. I would remember and learn from it. I would do all that I could to help people less privileged than me.

I was young, very young, but my previous life had made me grow up far too soon. Before, I did not have the luxury of a happy childhood, but I would make up for it now, with the help of my sister of course!

I must have fallen asleep. I was awoken by someone holding my hand.

I opened my eyes and there he was.

My papa.

I smiled. I knew him. How could I not know him? My lovely, generous, and loving papa.

‘Hello Laura, had a nice sleep?’

‘Yes Papa.’

‘Feeling any better?’

‘Yes, I do. The sleep helped a lot.’

‘That is good. Will you be able to come down later for some dinner?’

‘I think so. My sore throat is a bit better and my headache has gone away and my runny nose is not so runny.’

He laughed.

‘Well, my dear, that is good.’

I reached over and held his hand. It was a soft yet strong hand; it gave me comfort and reassurance that he was really there sitting beside me.

‘Well, I had better let you rest a bit more. Are you hungry?’

‘A bit Papa.’

‘I’ll get Sarah to bring something light up. You do not want to spoil your Christmas dinner.’

He let go of my hand and stood up.

He then bent down and picked a package up.

‘Angela said that she found this under the Christmas tree for you, and she thought that you might like to open it now. I’ll leave you to it.’

He handed me the gaily wrapped present and kissed me on the cheek.

‘I will see you later and no doubt Angela will want to come up once she has finished her breakfast.’

He went to the door, opened it and then turned back for a moment.

‘I’ll send for Sarah, see you later Darling.’

Then he was gone.

I had wanted him to stay with me and was sad when the door closed quietly behind him. I felt tears well up. It was all getting too much for me, and my emotions were nearly becoming overwhelming.

My past life was so full of sadness and hardship, and this was so different. In my recollection of being Albert, I had never been happy before I was now crying with happiness!

Strange!

To distract myself, I looked at the package with its brightly coloured paper. It was an oblong box, and I had no idea as to what it contained.
I slowly unwrapped the package and I saw that the box was red. Lifting the lid, I gasped.

Inside was a beautiful red satin-dressed china doll! She was so pretty with black hair that felt real to the touch and rosy cheeks and, red lips, too.
With a squeal of glee, I took the doll out of the box and hugged her. She was so beautiful. I held her tight and sighed.

This was going to be the best Christmas ever!

Shortly after, there was a knock on the door, and then it was opened, young girl came in. She was wearing a maid’s dress and was carrying a tray.

‘Hello Miss Laura, your father said that you might be a bit hungry.’

It was strange being called Miss Laura, but it was much better than being called Albert or what Smith usually called me, scum and other unsavoury names!

She brought the tray over to me.

‘Would you like to it up Miss?’

I did as I was asked, and she carefully put the tray, which held a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, on my lap.

She put some fresh orange juice on the bedside table.

‘Will there be anything else Miss?’

‘No, thank you erm, Sarah is it?’

She looked at me strangely.

‘Of course, Miss. Your Mother has said that I should help you dress this later before you come down for dinner.’

She then bobbed a curtsy for some reason and then left me.

Of course, it was Sarah; I should not have sounded unsure. I still had a lot of gaps in what was, I suppose, my memories. I would have to be careful what I say.

As I ate my meal, enjoying it immensely, I wondered how many more “mistakes” I would make. At that moment, my mind was in a strange place.

I just hoped that things would become clearer sooner rather than later.

I remembered the note that said “Believe”, and that gave me some comfort.

I finished my meal. The food was delicious, and as Albert, I had never tasted such fine food.

I put the tray down and sipped the orange juice, which was lovely and cooing in my throat.

I lay back down on the bed and cuddled my new dolly which decided to call Jane for some reason.

My mind, as was natural, returned to my present position and condition. I had some questions that I knew no real answer to.

Why did I feel it so natural to be a girl now when I had spent all my years as a boy?

Or had I ever been a boy, and was Albert just the terrible nightmare of a young girl with an overactive imagination?

Had time changed, and had there never been an Albert?

My head was beginning to ache again, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

I awoke suddenly to an earthquake…

Only it wasn’t that, it was Angela jumping up and down on the bed.

‘Stop it Angela!’

‘Oh good, you are awake, you lazy bones. Mama sent me up to see if you are well enough to come down for dinner. You had better be. This is the most boring Christmas ever without you to play with, and Papa said we can’t open any more presents without you because it is not fair. I ask you, what about me, it is not fair that I have to wait for you to get up and come downstairs. Oooh, I like your dolly, what is her name?’

‘I haven't named her yet.’

‘You have to name her; you know that it is the rule that you have to name her the day you adopt her.’

‘Right.’ I said frowning with concentration.

‘Jemima.’

‘Ooh, that’s a nice name. I wish I had thought of that with my new one. Have called her Samantha.’

‘That is a nice name too.’

‘It is, isn’t it? Now, are you going to be dressed and come down if you feel better, that is? If you are not better, I am not going to go any nearer to you because I do not want to catch whatever you have got.’

I looked at her and smiled. More memories were seeping into my brain, and I knew how close we were and what fun we were always having. I also knew that she was the more outgoing of us and that she sort of led the way into any mischief-making. I did not mind that and I loved her dearly.

The thoughts of being Albert were slowly retreating into the background, and I was glad of that as there had been little fun in what I now considered to be my other life.

I decided there and then that I would try not to keep thinking about Albert and just enjoy my life as it was now.

‘I am alright to come down, I think.’

‘ Oh good, I’ll get Sarah to come and help you get dressed.’

‘Can I not dress myself?’

She looked at me as if I was mad.

‘You must still be a bit ill to even think of dressing yourself. You know that Mama insists on dressing properly for dinner. I know you, given the chance, would wear play clothes. Anyway, I’ll go and get Sarah. Now get up and wash your face, you look terrible.’

‘Thank you!’

‘That’s all right,’ she replied, grinning, ‘I need to change myself. Edith will be waiting for me.’

I knew instinctively that Edith was Angela’s chambermaid, just as Sarah was mine.

My sister rushed out of the room, leaving me to get up and go over to the wash basin. I put some water into the basin and washed my face with a cloth. The water was cold, but I did not mind that. It made me feel a bit better. I admit I was still a bit shaky after all that happened to me.

Over to the side was a curtain, and I knew somehow that behind it, there was the night stool with its chamber pot.

I went over, pulled the curtain aside and then, lifting the lid, I sat on the stool and relieved myself. The fact that I did not have what boys have did not seem to concern me and it all felt quite natural.

After finishing my ablutions, I wiped myself with a cloth and then went back to the bed and sat down. I was still a bit weak but determined to do my best to go downstairs and enjoy the Christmas festivities.

I would try to put my thoughts of Albert to the back of my mind and just enjoy the present. Despite all of the things that I had heard and seen in the past hours, I still felt as if I were two people in one, although, as I have already mentioned, I think that the Albert part of me seemed to be retreating into the background.

I just had to believe.

More and more things were appearing in my memory to do with Laura, like the holidays that we had, the fun and games that I had with my sister and the that I had for my wonderful Mama and Papa.

It was so strange as if I was two people in one body.

There was a soft knock on the door.

‘Come in.’

There was Sarah, the young housemaid. I suddenly recalled that although she was my maid, she was more than that for me. She was a friend and someone who knew all about me. I had shared secrets and had a giggly time when we were together. I knew that the housekeeper did not approve of such familiarity, and we were careful about saying or doing things in public. She was fifteen years old and had a bright, sunny personality.

‘Well, Miss, it’s time to get you dressed. Your Mama has told me what you are to wear. Would you like to take off your nightdress whilst I get your clothes out?’

‘All right, Sarah, but you can call me Laura in private, you know.’

She looked around to make sure that Mirs Hastings, the housekeeper, was not lurking somewhere.

‘’Yes, erm Laura.’

I removed my nightdress and slip and placed them on my bed as Sarah pulled many items out of the wardrobe and chest of drawers.

As if it was perfectly natural for me, I was dressed firstly in drawers, tied with a ribbon, then white stockings tied with ribbons. I put on, with the help of Sarah, a white chemise.

‘You are so lucky, Miss I mean Laura that your Mama does not approve of corsets at your age.’

‘Yes,’ I replied, not knowing what else to say.

After this, Sarah helped me into a petticoat and crinoline and, finally, a new dress in white satin with a lace collar and a wide pink sash around the waist, tied at the back with a large bow.

My long hair was thoroughly brushed, and then a pink ribbon tied to the back of it.

‘There we are Mi...I mean Laura, you look as pretty as a picture. Do you want to wear your cross?

‘Yes, please Sally, it is Christmas after all.’

She placed the fine chain and cross around my neck.

Sally then helped me into some polished leather slippers with nice shiny buckles.

‘There, all finished would you like to see yourself in the mirror?’

I nodded.

‘Close your eyes, Laura.’

I did as she requested, and she led me over to the mirror.

I loved the way the clothes felt on me and the slight rustle of the beautiful garments.

‘There, open your eyes.’

Somehow, I thought that I would look like Albert, dressed in the wrong clothes and looking stupid.

I opened my eyes and gasped.

There I was, so very pretty in my best dress and looking every inch the girl I now knew I was.

I moved my hand to the cross around my neck, yes, it was my hand moving. It was me and not some sort of illusion.

Albert wasn’t there and never was in this world, the world where I was and always had been Laura, sister to Angela and daughter of Lord and Lady Ravenswood.

Lord and Lady Ravenswood!

My eyes grew wide as I came to the realisation that I was, in fact, the daughter of a lord and lady. It was yet another piece in the jigsaw in my mind, helping me complete the picture of who I actually was.

I shook my head, trying to clear it.

‘Are you all right Laura, you have gone quite pale.’

‘Y…yes Sally, I am fine, just happy that I look nice.’

‘You look lovely, Laura, as pretty as a picture, you will make a fine, beautiful wife to a handsome husband someday if I might say so. But you have a long time until that happy event…oh, the dinner gong, are you ready?’

I nodded, swallowing nervously.

‘Y…yes, I am ready.’

Sarah led the way down the wide staircase with the many portraits lining the walls. My ancestors? Suddenly, there was another memory I recalled. Sliding down those very stairs with my sister. We were told off by our Nanny, what was her name? Miss Carstairs, that was it.

I would have to be careful. I could see that my memories were as holey as that cheese that I couldn’t remember the name of.

I loved the feel of my dress swishing as I walked and my hair with its pink ribbon, which tickled the back of my neck as I went down the wide carpeted stairs. It all felt so new, but I was sure that I had done this before many times. I would have to be patient; the more my memories would return, I was sure.

We arrived at the main hall, wide and tall with a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

‘See you later, Miss,’ whispered Sally as she disappeared through a side door.

I had a mild panic when she left me, and I was not sure as to what to do now. Then I saw, at the end of the hall, a large door. Outside the door was a footman, and I somehow knew that he was standing outside the dining hall.

I went over, my heels clicking somewhat loudly on the marble floor and smiled nervously at the footman.

‘Hello, Miss Laura, it is nice to see you on your feet again.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied, I did not know the man’s name, but no doubt I would remember it eventually.

He opened the door, and with some trepidation and a heavy beating heart, I hesitantly walked into the dining hall.

The room was huge. You could sit a hundred people in there, I was sure. Three crystal chandeliers were hanging from the ornate ceiling. The floor was of an intricate parquet design. Along one side was a very long dining table. Many pictures were hanging from the walls, but at the time, I was only interested in the end of the room, where there was a somewhat smaller dining table placed for the family, no doubt. Several servants and waiters were milling about, looking busy.

In the corner was a huge Christmas tree, glittering in the reflection of the chandelier lights.

I took all this in quickly, my main interest was the people over by the tree.

My family.

Mama, Papa and of course, Angela were there, and as soon as she saw me, she ran over. She was wearing the same dress as I was but with a pale blue sash around her waist and a matching ribbon in her hair.

‘There you are, Laura, where have you been? I have been waiting for ages. I am starving hungry and have not eaten for at least an hour. Are you better, you still look pale. You are not going to faint, are you?'

I giggled, she was so funny!

She took hold of my hand as we walked over to the others.

Mama came to me and gave me a lovely hug.

‘It is nice to see you on your feet again, Darling. If you feel tired or unwell, you must promise to tell me, won’t you?’

‘Yes, Mama.’ I replied, feeling rather shy for some reason as I saw that I was now the centre of attention.

‘Let us sit for dinner, everyone,’ said Papa after he kissed me on my cheek in welcome.

It was a happy meal, although I was somewhat quiet. Angela made up for this with her incessant chatter. I was trying to remember how to eat in nice company and was struggling a bit, especially with what cutlery to use with which course.

Mama noticed this.

‘Are you all right Laura?’

‘Erm, yes, Mama, I am all fingers and thumbs today!’

I then followed the lead of the others, and things got a bit smoother from then on.

Whilst we were eating, things grew a bit quieter. It still all felt a bit strange to me. I jumped slightly once when one of the servants took away a plate, and another replaced it with yet another course.

I marvelled at the fact that I was sitting there in such a pretty dress, trying not to get food over it, as my hands shook slightly.

Mama kept looking at me, and I wondered at one point if she might stand up and denounce me as a boy who should be cleaning the chimneys and not sitting with his elders and betters.

I was still having a lot of trouble dealing with who I was now.

One moment, I was accepting myself as Laura and at others, thinking that this was just a cruel joke and I would awake, still in the chimney, as a boy called Albert.

It was so unreal to my confused mind. I had my memories of Albert, and that would not go away, but I was Laura now, and I had to try to believe in the magic of my situation, sitting there as a girl in a loving family and a long way from my previous existence.

Then, I comforted myself as I recalled the notes from Santa.

Believe.

I sighed, I would try with all my heart to believe.

After the sumptuous meal, leaving us all quite full up, we went over to the tree, where some comfortable chairs had been placed, and then Angela and I opened our presents that had been placed underneath the glittering Christmas tree. Evidently, Mama and Papa had opened theirs earlier as they wanted to watch opening ours without distraction.

In the background, the staff were clearing all the dinner things away, and I wondered in passing if they were to have their own Christmas dinner and presents.

Angela, being Angela and one who evidently liked to lead rather than follow, collected her presents and then mine and we both had a nice selection of gaily wrapped things to open.

I was as excited as anyone could be to open my presents. As Albert, I had never had a present in my life, but now the complete opposite was true.

There were pretty clothes, dresses, blouses and skirts. Also, some more dolls and stuffed animals that I loved as soon as I saw them. There was a Snakes and Ladders board game, a few colourful books and many other things that I very much looked forward to using and playing with.

Angela had similar things to me, and by the squeals of delight coming from her, I could tell that she was as happy as I was.

We had been late with our Christmas meal and present opening and by the time we had finished, it was getting quite late.

We had a game of Snakes and Ladders, though, where Papa won. Angela complained that he was cheating, and Papa said that he had won fair and square. It was a fun game which I enjoyed immensely

I was continuously yawning after a while, and Mama noticed this. I was still suffering slightly from the effects of my cold or whatever it was, and it was deemed that it was time for us girls to go to bed.

‘Oh Mama, I’m not ill, send Laura to bed if you must, but may I stay up for a while longer?’

‘No Angela, you must go to bed. We have had this conversation many times, you both go to bed at the same time. Now be a good girl and do as I bid.’

She sighed.

‘Yes Mama,’

And so we said goodnight to Mama and Papa and made our way upstairs by the light of the new gas lamps. We both carried one of the stuffed animals. My one was a squirrel, and Angela had a little monkey. All our other presents had been taken up to our rooms.

I think that we were both tired by now and for once. Angela was quiet.

We reached our rooms and after a quick hug and a ‘night,’ from Angela, she slipped into her room. My room was next door and I went in.

Sarah was there waiting for me.

‘There you are Miss, did you have a nice evening?’

I yawned,

‘Yes thank you and call me Laura.’

‘Yes, Laura, sorry. Anyway, there is a hot water bottle in your bed, so it will be nice and warm for you. Shall we get you ready?’

I nodded, yawning hugely. I really was very tired.

Sarah helped me get undressed.

‘Sarah,’ I said between yawns, ‘did you have a nice Christmas meal?’

‘Yes, Cook really put on a feast for us, and the two turkeys were huge. The scullery maid, Becky, got a bit tipsy, though I shouldn’t say so.’
I smiled. I was glad that she had a good time.

I went, with Sarah, through the motions of getting ready for bed. It felt a bit strange that I should need someone to help me get undressed but it was nice and required little thought.

After removing all my clothes, I washed my face, and with help, I put on a light chemise and a pure white nightdress. My hair, after being brushed fifty times, was then put in a nightcap and tied at the back with a ribbon.

I was then ready for bed.

Sarah then left me.

‘Goodnight Saarah.’

‘Goodnight, Laura,’ she replied, turning down the gas light and leaving the room.

By the light of the log fire, I went down on my knees by the bed, said the Lord’s Prayer and gave thanks for my good fortune. Then, I got into the nice warm bed with the hot water bottle to warm my feet. I held my soft squirrel and said goodnight to it and to my new doll who was sitting on the chair by the fire.

I was so tired I just drifted off without much more thought.

I awoke suddenly as I felt some movement and heard a soft voice.

‘Move over Laura, my feet are freezing.’

Angela!

I moved over, and Angela got in the bed with me.

‘Angela, I’m sleepy.’

‘I know, but I just wanted to talk for a bit.’

‘We can talk tomorrow.’

‘It cannot wait.’

I sighed, woke up slightly more and looked at her whilst yawning.

‘What is it?’

She looked at me with a frown.

‘What?’

‘I know it sounds silly, but…’

‘But what? Come on Angela, tell me.’

She took a deep breath.

‘You will not laugh at me, promise?’

I had woken up more now, something was troubling my twin sister and I wondered what it was.

I sat up and held her hand, it was somewhat moist.

Over the other side of the room, I saw our reflection in the mirror on the wardrobe, we looked so alike. Like two peas in a pod in fact. I turned back to her.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

She looked into my eyes, took a deep breath and then she told me what was troubling her.

‘I…I had a dream. It was a dream about a boy of about our age. He was a very unhappy boy, and he was indentured to a man called Smith. This Smith treated him very unkindly and abused him terribly. The boy was always tired and hungry, and he lived in squalid conditions. He was sent up chimneys, and his health was very poor.’

My stomach churned, and I felt that I would have fainted if I had stood up. I gulped nervously as she continued with tears in her eyes.

‘The boy was sent up the chimney of a large house like ours, and he rested on a ledge as he was so very tired and ill. Then, this is the incredible thing: Santa Claus came down the chimney and saw that he was not happy and that he was suffering, and he helped the boy fulfil his dream of being, of all things, a girl. The boy was called Albert and…and the girl he turned into was c…called Laura, and she looked just like you and me!’

I could see that she was upset, and I hugged her. Memories came up about Laura’s past came to me. Angela and I were so close and often almost read each other’s minds and completed each other’s sentences.

Was her dream one of those things that had happened because we were so close?

What could I say? Yes, I was Albert, and I had previously had a horrible life and was now miraculously transformed into Laura with Laura’s and Alberts's memories.

I could not put her through this. It would be cruel and unnecessary. I would have to tell some fibs and I hoped that God would forgive me.

‘Angela, it was just a dream. It is Christmas and the time of Santa, presents and all good things. But also there are people much worse off than us. Remember Papa always helps with the poor and needy at the church on Christmas morning? All this is in your mind and you just had a dream.’

‘I…I suppose so. It was a silly dream. I thought that I would not believe in Santa as we are now eleven years old, but I wonder...’

‘I still believe and always will, no matter what others might think.’

She looked me in the eye and giggled.

‘There is no way that you could ever be an Albert!’

I smiled.

‘You are right.’

She sighed.

‘I had better go back to bed. You know that Mama does not like us sleeping with each other beds just because Miss Entwistle doesn’t like it.’

‘Miss Entwistle?’ I said without thinking.

She looked at me strangely.

‘Yes, our governess, Miss Entwistle.’

‘Oh, you mean Haddock Face!’

‘We both giggled.’

She kissed me on the cheek.

‘Thanks for listening, night-night.’

‘Night-night, don’t let the bed bugs bite!’

That led to another fit of giggles but eventually, Angela left for her bed.

It was strange how I remembered the nickname Haddock Face but not her real name Miss Entwistle.

But I had other things to think about as I lay there in bed, cuddling my squirrel with its soft, fluffy tail.

Angela’s dream was what had happened to me. She had seen me as Albert and how I magically changed to Laura with Santa’s help.

I could not sleep. Too much had happened in such a short space of time. I got up, wrapped a shawl around my shoulders and walked over to the window.

As I stood there, the gentle fall of snow gradually stopped.

Looking out onto the large snow-covered lawn I saw some deer over by the large lake which had frozen over.

It had been cloudy, but there were ever-widening gaps through which I could see some stars, and then the full moon came out, giving the snow covered ground a soft Christmassy white glow.

Was everything just a dream?

I shook my head.

As far as I was concerned, it was not a dream. It had all really happened, and the Laura that those maids had talked about when I was up the chimney, who had died at birth, was, in fact, me, and through the magic of Christmas and Santa Claus, the past had changed, for me anyway, and I could look forward to a happy future, where I was living with the love and company of my very own family.

I wondered if there ever was a chimney sweep called Smith or a little boy called Albert, I supposed not, but if not, how did I have his memories?
I would never know, but if I ever married a nice man, I would try to help a poor orphan or two and help bring some happiness into their lives.

Married, what a strange thought!

Well, that possible event would be a long time away, but I was just happy now to be a young girl with a wonderful sister and parents, and I would try to be the best person I could possibly be.

Mind you, there were lots of orphans in the world at the moment, some having to work in horrible jobs. Perhaps with the help of Angela, we might persuade our parents to adopt a few?

As I stood there, something caught the corner of my eye: a shooting star going across the sky leaving a trail of light.

The trail came down towards the ground over the lake where the deer were trying to graze through the snow.

Was it me, or did the glittering trail of the shooting star spell out the words;