A Proper Family Christmas Read Online Free Page B

She wasn’t quite so tough as she seemed. She slammed the door shut in Sophie’s face. Sophie heard the sound of a bolt being thrown to make sure she stayed out.
    ‘Money clearly doesn’t buy manners,’ Sophie hissed through the closed bedroom door.

Chapter Six
Jack
    Sophie’s little brother Jack had been working hard at being good. Apart from when he thought about touching the suit of armour on the way up the stairs, he had kept his hands by his sides at all times, just as he always did when he was following his mum through the tableware department of John Lewis in Solihull. Whenever they had to go through the glass displays, Jack would actually cross his arms in front of himself and tuck his hands into his armpits to ensure his safe passage. Sometimes, he would even hold his breath. Who knew if those crystal glasses would withstand a hearty sigh? It only became a problem if his mum wanted to take a closer look at something. Once, when she was looking for a wedding anniversary present for Grandma and Granddad, Ronnie did stop to look at a glass fruit bowl and Jack had to hold his breath for so long that he started to feel faint. Eventually, he had to take an enormous gasp that made everybody turn and stare.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Ronnie asked him.
    Jack explained his stringent safety measures.
    ‘You doughnut,’ said Ronnie, ruffling his hair. ‘You can’t blow anything over. I just don’t want you to touch anything.’
    Family legend had it that Sophie had once touched a glass paperweight shaped like a bird. She knocked it off a shelf, it broke, and Ronnie had to buy the shattered thing. It cost fifty pounds. Fifty pounds! The whole family had to eat toast for a month.
    So Jack was extra careful at the Great House. But the armour was so tempting. Jack’s imagination was well and truly fired up. Had that suit of armour gone into battle on the back of a brave prince? The size of the suit was particularly intriguing. It was so small. Jack imagined himself inside it.
    Meanwhile, the lady of the house was bringing them back down the stairs very slowly. She was talking about the staircase itself, this time, explaining that it had been carved from solid oak and incorporated the emblems of the family who had the house built. Some of the emblems hinted at a dark past, of a fortune made in battle. But there were touches of humour in there too.
    ‘Perhaps,’ said the lady, ‘one of you children will be the first to spot the tiny mouse, modelled on the beloved pet mouse of the little girl of the house.’ She gestured back up the stairs to a portrait of a sickly-looking young miss, who held a small white mouse in her hand. ‘Come on. First person to spot it is the winner.’
    Jack was more interested in the armour. And what luck! Somehow, just by following his mother, he had come to find himself right next to the ancient knight again. While the other children in the tour group dutifully sought out the rodent in the bannisters, Jack’s focus was entirely behind them. He examined the sword that hung from the armoured dummy’s belt. Was it a real sword? Had it ever been used to run someone through?
    As the other children looked for the mouse, Jack suddenly had the idea that he was standing in front of his best chance to get the sort of supernatural powers that made Doctor Who so unbeatable. If he could touch the tip of his sonic screwdriver to the tip of the sword, then surely there would be a transfer of energy. He would be invincible. Thomas, the boy at school who had made much of Jack’s second year there a misery, would never be able to bully him again.
    Slowly, silently, Jack drew his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. His parents and grandmother were focused on the bannisters. Jack lifted the plastic screwdriver towards the sword. His little heart beat wildly, as though a bolt of lightning might jump between sword and screwdriver and send him flying through the air. This was a dangerous enterprise. A