[March 2006]
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 6,207
​
Warnings: None
​
​THE GHOSTS OF CHRISTMASES PAST
by
Eleanor Ward
​
At Christmas, Heyes and Curry look back, and remember
Colorado: 25th December 1921
Jed Curry closed his door behind him and stepped out into the snow. Winter had come late this year and they’d only had an inch or two of snow yet, but as he glanced up at the sky, it was heavy and grey. It wouldn’t be long before more came. He turned his coat collar up against the chill wind and, tucking a wrapped package into the crook of his elbow, he shoved his other hand into his pocket and headed off up the street, arriving several minutes later outside a pleasant, blue painted, two storey house with a broad garden fronted by a picket fence.
He walked up the pathway and knocked on the front door, admiring the holly wreath which had been hung on it since his last visit.
A few moments later the door opened, and the smiling face of his friend Hannibal Heyes greeted him.
“Hey, Jed. Come in.” he said, stepping aside to allow him entry.
“Thanks.” smiled Curry.
“Let me get your coat.” Heyes helped him out of his overcoat and hung it on the coat stand in the hallway.
“Come on in.” Heyes led the way into the front room of the house where a fire was burning brightly in the hearth. Putting the package he'd brought with him on the base of the coat stand, Curry followed.
“Drink?” Heyes enquired, holding up a bottle of brandy, as Curry moved to sit in a chair near the fire.
“Mmm, please.” replied Curry, holding his hands in front of the fire to warm them.
Heyes poured two measures and crossed to hand him one before moving to sit in another chair at the other side of the hearth.
“Have you been to the cemetery?” he asked, eyeing Curry with a compassionate expression.
Curry nodded. “I went earlier this morning.” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames of the fire.
Heyes made no reply, merely watching him as he sipped his drink.
Curry shook his head to himself. “Where does the time go, eh?” he muttered, as much to himself as anyone.
Heyes nodded agreement.
Curry looked across at him now. “I can’t believe this’ll be the third Christmas since Emily died.” he told him.
Heyes nodded again, sympathetically.
“If it hadn’t been for Jed junior, and Columbine… and you… I don’t think I’d have survived it.” Curry continued.
Heyes eyed him, his expression clouding as he remembered that dark day, three Novembers ago, when Emily had died of influenza, and the weeks that followed when Jed had just sat around the house almost in a trance. It had taken all the coaxing of Jed junior, Columbine, and Heyes himself, to get him to eat, or speak, or even to get out of bed and get dressed each day. But, gradually, he’d begun to function again, although this time of year was still difficult for him to deal with.
“I know.” he said now, meeting Curry’s gaze with a look of mutual understanding, “But you had more than thirty good years together. That’s more than a lot of folks get.”
Curry nodded. “I guess.” he muttered, his mind back on the day he’d met her, at a horse fair. She had walked in with a horse he’d fallen in love with and, as he’d bartered with her, over the price, he had asked her out. They had married the following year with Jed junior being born almost a year to the day afterwards and Columbine three years later.
Presently Heyes said, “How is Jed junior? Still the rising star at the law firm?”
Curry smiled now, suddenly looking much younger than his sixty eight years. His hair, now salt and pepper grey, was still as thick and wavy as it always had been, and his face, while more angled now, than the chubby cheeked youth he had been, hadn’t altered a great deal. He’d lost weight since Emily’s death, and his blue eyes carried a permanent tinge of sadness but, at the mention of his son’s name, they sparkled like the Jed Curry Heyes remembered. “He’s doin’ great.” His smile broadened into a grin, “Oh, and I’m hoping it won’t be too long now before he’ll be making me a Granddaddy!”
“Oh?” Heyes raised a questioning eyebrow.
Curry nodded, “He’s finally proposed to Stella and she agreed. They’re getting married in the spring”
“Well, that’s great.” grinned Heyes, pleased for his friend, “Couldn’t he get back home for Christmas?”
Curry shook his head, “It’s a bit far from New York just for a couple of days. But he’s bringing Stella over to visit for a week at the end of February.” He looked across at Heyes now. “What about your Matthew?” he enquired, “Any sign of him getting himself hitched yet?”
Heyes snorted good humouredly, “No. He’s too much like me. Got itchy feet.”
Curry nodded, smiling. “He’ll settle down in time.” he told him, “Even you outgrew the wanderlust eventually.”
Heyes smiled, shyly, his gaze on his drink. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I? He lifted his eyes to meet Curry’s gaze, and they exchanged a covert smile.
“It’s a pity Matt’s in Philadelphia.” Curry continued, “Him and Jed don’t get chance to meet up as often as they’d like.”
Heyes nodded agreement.
​
“I remember,” Curry said now, “when they played together as kids, even though Jed was the elder by two years, your Matthew would take charge and boss him around, just like you used to do to me.”
Heyes grinned sheepishly.
Curry studied his face. His hair, while now well streaked with grey, was still as untamed as ever, and although his skin was darker and more leathery after years in the sun, and the lines on his face deepened with age, his dark eyes still bore that same mischievous twinkle and, as he smiled his impish smile, he looked little different than he had thirty years ago, and as Curry looked at him now he could see Matthew’s dark haired, dimpled features reflected in his.
“He’s so like you.” Curry said on impulse, his thoughts on his own children, both of whom had inherited their Mother’s auburn hair and green eyes, and who he thought looked nothing like him, although Heyes had told him he could see him in both of them, in Columbine’s dazzling smile and gentle nature, and in Jed junior’s voice and walk.
“I don’t know if that’s good or bad.” quipped Heyes.
“I’d say it was pretty good.” replied Curry.
Heyes smiled but made no reply.
“Is Matt coming home over the holiday?” Curry asked.
“He’s coming to spend New Year.”
“That’s nice.” Curry nodded, “It’s a pity they didn’t both get jobs at the same law firm.” he added presently, “I know Jed misses his company.”
“Yeah.” Heyes nodded agreement, exchanging a knowing glance with Curry. Having been virtually inseparable since childhood, Jed junior and Matthew were almost as close as he and Jed had been, going to school together and with Matthew later following Jed junior to the same law school before obtaining posts at separate law firms upon qualifying, Jed junior in New York and Matthew in Philadelphia. Both Heyes and Jed had commented at the time that, in their shoes, they would probably have turned down the jobs rather than be separated. But then they’d only ever had each other to rely on in life when they were growing up which had forged a bond between them that went too deep for either of them to consider going somewhere without the other. For Matthew and Jed junior it was different. They’d had stable lives, with friends, parents, and grandparents, to love and cherish them, and had been encouraged to chase their ambitions in life.
“I remember, when Jed was born, how jealous you were because you hadn’t managed to find a woman who would take you on yet.” Curry teased now, “You always liked to be the first one to do anything and it grieved you to death that I got married first and had a child before you did.”
Heyes looked indignant. “I was not jealous.”
“Was.” insisted Curry
“Was not.” Heyes retorted, laughing.
Curry gave him a withering look.
“Funny how you married Olivia less than ten months after Jed was born though.” he observed wryly.
“Coincidence.” insisted Heyes.
Curry merely smiled, knowing it was true but enjoying pulling his leg. Heyes had, literally, run into Olivia, as she was coming out of the bank, just a week after Jed junior’s birth, and it had been love at first sight between them. In less than six months he had proposed to her, his restless nature finally being tamed by love.
“Do you remember the Christmas we got the amnesty?” he asked presently.
“Do I ever.” grinned Heyes, “December fifteenth, eighteen eighty seven.”
Curry nodded, “Even though it’s been thirty four years, it still feels kinda... unreal.” he said, his expression thoughtful, “I guess we lived under the shadow of the law so long, it never really goes away.”
“I know what you mean.” nodded Heyes.
“That was some party we had at Lom’s that Christmas, wasn’t it?” Curry eyed Heyes who nodded, grinning.
“Yeah, I don’t think I‘ve ever got so drunk, before or since.”
“I know.” grinned Curry, “I remember, Lom had been called into town for something. It had snowed pretty heavy and we had the idea of making up dozens of snowballs, and we pelted him with them as he rode back to the cabin.
Heyes laughed. “Yeah, I remember. We found it pretty funny because we were so drunk, but he wasn’t too amused.”
“As I recall, he was amused enough to pin you on the ground and shove a load down inside your shirt. You were soaked.” Curry told him.
“Yeah.” Heyes nodded, “I copped for it because you had scarpered back inside the cabin as soon as he started throwing them back.” He gave Curry a withering look, “That’s probably why I spent the next three days in bed with the grippe.” he added indignantly.
Curry laughed, “It was such a childish thing to do, but it felt good, didn’t it?”
Heyes eyed him affectionately. “It sure did.” he admitted.
Curry nodded. “Hey,” he grinned, “do you remember that time we got snowed in up at that claim in the mountains with that fake doctor, and I got sick with the grippe and he told you I was dying with pneumonia?”
“Yeah.” growled Heyes, “I also remember the hundred thousand dollars he stole from us too.” He shook his head, “Imagine what we could have done with all that money.”
Curry looked thoughtful. “We’d have probably just wasted it.” he observed.
Heyes slowly nodded acknowledgement. “You’re probably right.”
“Anyway, we didn’t do so bad without it.” Curry pointed out.
“But we could have done a lot better with it.” retorted Heyes.
“Not having it don’t seem to have affected you none.” scoffed Curry, “Getting to be Mayor of this town is quite an achievement for an ex-outlaw.”
“I guess.” agreed Heyes, getting up to refill their glasses.
“I was surprised you didn’t stand this year.” Curry told him as Heyes handed him his glass.
Heyes shrugged. "I’ve been Mayor for the last ten years. It’s time someone else had a go.”
“That’s not like you.”
“What isn’t?”
“Quitting.”
Heyes sighed. “It’s not so much ‘quitting’,” he told him, “I’ve achieved all the things I thought this town needed, so now I’m happy to step aside and let someone else take over.”
Curry smiled. “Who’d ever have thought it, eh, back when we were with the Devil’s Hole gang, that you’d get to be a lawyer, and end up as Mayor of this town, and I’d end up breeding horses?”
“Not just ‘horses’.” Heyes corrected him, “Thoroughbreds.”
Curry looked sheepish. “Still difficult to believe though, isn’t it? Who’d ever have thought we’d become successful businessmen, get married, raise families?”
Heyes nodded agreement.
“Not that I didn’t enjoy our outlaw days.” Curry continued, “I did.”
“So did I.” smiled Heyes, “They were good days.”
“We had some good Christmases back at the Hole, with the boys, didn’t we?” Curry eyed Heyes, his expression nostalgic.
“We sure did.” smiled Heyes, “It was like having a family.” His expression also became nostalgic as he remembered their years with the Devil’s Hole Gang. Until they fell in with the Gang he and Jed hadn’t celebrated Christmas since losing their parents, and having the rest of the gang to share it with had brought new meaning to it for them.
“Yeah, except for that year when Kyle had brought a new guy in, and he tried to challenge you as leader.” said Curry.
Heyes nodded. “Harvey.” he said sourly.
“That was some fist fight you two had.” grinned Curry, “It was a pretty close call. I did wonder, at one point, if he was going to take you.”
“Not a chance.” scoffed Heyes, “I had him exactly where I wanted him.
Curry raised a sceptical eyebrow.
“There was never a chance I would lose.” insisted Heyes, “I’d seen his kind before, at the orphanage.”
Curry’s expression clouded as he remembered their days at the orphanage they'd been sent to, following their parents’ brutal murders. Small for his age, he had often been bullied by the other children and Heyes would always step in to protect him, regardless of the size of his opponents. After several beatings, the last one severe enough that it had left Heyes unconscious for half a day, and bedridden for another three, much to the Principal’s annoyance, Heyes had learned fast how to take care of himself, and never again had he let anyone hurt Jed, or himself, and he had carried that knowledge with him into adulthood.
“It was still a close call.” Curry persisted, “I remember, you were so beat up you couldn’t eat your dinner that Christmas day...”
“Neither could he.” Heyes cut in
Curry grinned and carried on with what he was saying. “…or for the next two days, by which time, all the turkey had been eaten.”
Heyes grunted in mock disgust.
“I remember,” Curry continued now, “before you threw him out, that train we held up, and he set too much dynamite and blew the whole carriage to pieces, and the safe with it.”
Heyes grinned, shaking his head in mock despair. “All that money, flying around in the air, and all the passengers trying to catch it.” he chuckled.
“I hadn’t known you knew so many swear words.” grinned Curry, “I thought you were gonna have a seizure, you were so mad.”
“He ruined a perfectly good heist.” growled Heyes, “One I had planned, meticulously, for weeks. You’re darned right I was mad. There must have been close on fifty thousand dollars in that safe.” He shook his head disgustedly, “What made me madder than anything was that it took him so long to set the dynamite and blow the thing to Kingdom Come, I would probably have had time to open the safe myself.”
Curry laughed. “Your schemes were so over-ambitious sometimes, I was amazed we ever managed to pull them off.”
Heyes gave him a wry look. “So was I sometimes.” he admitted.
They grinned at each other as Heyes got up and moved to a bureau in the corner of the room and picked up a wooden cigar box. He opened it and offered Curry one. The box was ornate, inlaid with intricate patterns in various colours. It had obviously been expensive in it’s day but was now well worn, one of the hinges broken, Heyes supporting the lid with one hand as he held it out to his friend, the lining inside worn away in places.
Curry took one, a secret smile on his face. Heyes took one for himself and put the box down before seating himself back in the chair and lighting it.
“I don’t know why you don’t throw that old thing away.” Curry said now, nodding towards the box.
“I like to keep it as a memento.” Heyes said with a grin, his gaze returning to the box as he remembered winning it, many years before, from ‘Big Mac’ McCreedy. McCreedy had had the box hand made to his own personal design and was an object he’d held a great affection for. Heyes had taken a liking to it too and, on one of the few occasions he had managed to one-up McCreedy in their constant betting sessions, had claimed it for himself. McCreedy had been furious at having to hand it over, which had made the victory all the more sweet to Heyes.
Curry smiled at the exultant look in Heyes’ eyes as he remembered winning the prized box.
“Although, it’s not much use for keeping cigars in now, I have to admit.” Heyes said presently.
Curry made no comment, as he lit his cigar and puffed on it.
“You know, I think that cigar box meant almost as much to him as that bust of Caesar he had us try and steal back for him.” Heyes said now.
Curry nodded. “He was a mite ‘house proud’.” he acknowledged, to which Heyes roared with laughter.
“We had some good times back in our outlaw days.” Curry said presently, “But I don’t regret giving it up, or all the tough times we went through while we were trying to get the amnesty, and there were plenty of those. But, if I could go back and change anything in my life, I don’t think I would.” He looked at Heyes and raised a questioning eyebrow, “How about you?”
Heyes’ expression grew solemn. After a few moments he said quietly, “Only John.” his gaze fixed on his glass.
​
Curry eyed him, his mind going back to the day, twenty seven years ago, when Heyes’ and Olivia’s second son, John, had been delivered stillborn. He remembered how, in front of Olivia and her parents, Heyes had been a tower of strength, comforting Olivia and telling her it wasn’t her fault, and that they would have more children, before going to formally identify the child and christen him so that the death certificate could be raised and a burial arranged. But, later, overcome by shock and grief, he had collapsed, sobbing, in Curry’s arms, his grief, and Curry’s anguish, made more acute by the fact that Curry’s own second child, his daughter Columbine, had been born only six months earlier.
Time had taken the edge off Heyes’ and Olivia’s grief, but even now, after all these years, thinking about it was still painful. Curry remembered how, as Columbine had been growing up, he would occasionally catch Heyes looking at her with a wistful expression and know that he was imagining John at that same age, playing with her or going to school with her. Heyes had always held a special affection for Columbine, no doubt for that reason, and would spoil her with candy and gifts, right up until, at twenty one, she’d moved to Denver to work in a women’s clothing store, working her way up to the position of Buyer. Columbine, in turn, adored him, and, on her periodic visits home, would, within half an hour of her arrival, dash off to visit her ‘Uncle H’, which was the name she’d called him since childhood.
Despite Heyes’ words to Olivia about having more children, they had not been blessed with any more, and Curry knew that he was keen for Matthew to marry and give them some grandchildren. As Heyes had said however, Matthew was his Father’s son and at twenty nine still had no steady girlfriend, enjoying playing the field, and while Curry was sure he too would settle down in time, marry and have children, he knew Heyes was concerned that, at seventy, he might not live long enough to see that happen.
“Yeah.” Curry agreed quietly.
Both were silent for several moments, thinking their own thoughts.
Presently, Curry said, “If I was going to change anything, it would be losing our folks the way we did…” He sighed, “But then, if that hadn’t happened, we might not have become the friends we are…” He shrugged, “…and I wouldn’t change that, for anything.”
“Me neither.” Heyes said softly, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Their eyes met and held, a lifetime full of shared memories passing between them.
“I remember,” Curry said eventually, “when we went to clear out those mountain lions up at the Carlson’s place, and someone started killing off all the players from the Saturday night poker game.”
Heyes nodded.
Curry’s expression clouded, “When you got shot in the head… the way you fell off your horse… and lay there, so still… I thought for sure you were dead… I was never so scared in my life…” He shook his head, “Those few days we waited to see if you were gonna come round O.K. were a nightmare. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t made it.” he said gruffly.
“I know what you mean.” nodded Heyes, “I remember the time when that mare you were trying to break in threw you off and you slammed your head on the gate post of the corral as you fell. You went down like a sack of potatoes and were bleeding real bad from a gash just above your temple. I felt just the same way then. It’s lucky it was only your arm you broke. It could have been your neck.”
“I still have the scar.” said Curry, rubbing the spot, just underneath his hairline.
Heyes smiled. “We’ve certainly had our fair share of mishaps. It’s a miracle we’re both still here.”
Curry nodded. “Jed and Matt are just the same. The accidents those two have had. Must be we both just got clumsy genes, huh?”
“Must be.” smiled Heyes.
“Do you remember when we all went to Jed junior’s graduation and he tripped on his gown on the steps to the platform and sprained his ankle?” Curry shook his head, “He managed to hide it until he’d received his diploma and got back down but then we had to carry him back to his room.”
“Yeah, I remember.” nodded Heyes, his mind going back to the day he, Olivia and Matthew had gone with Jed, Emily and Columbine to see Jed junior get his diploma, looking so like his father as he’d stood, grinning, on the platform, with his classmates, looking every inch the lawyer in his cap and gown. He also remembered how Jed had pretended to have something in his eye to hide his tears of pride at his son’s achievement. The situation had been reversed two years later when they had all accompanied him and Olivia to Matthew’s graduation. Matthew however had made it onto the platform without any mishaps.
“It’s ironic that you should become a lawyer after spending so many years on the wrong side of the law.” Curry’s voice broke into his memories, “But I don’t know why I should have been surprised that you went into it. You always thought like a lawyer even back then.”
“I would argue that my background gives me a better insight into the criminal mind and helps me come to a more unbiased conclusion.” Heyes replied in his most lawyerly voice.
Curry gave him a wry look. “Well, I guess all that reading you used to do was good for something in the end.” he commented, “You really used to get up my nose, when I’d be trying to talk to you and you’d have your nose stuck in some book or other.” He shook his head, “Do you remember, the year after we got the amnesty, when you decided we should take a vacation, and you dragged me all the way down to Mississippi so you could spend time on a paddle steamer, after reading those Mark Twain books?”
“And a very good vacation it was too.” retorted Heyes, “I recall we came back a whole lot richer than we went, after getting into that poker tournament they were running.”
Curry gave him a rueful smile. It had indeed been a very enjoyable trip, not only because they were free to enjoy it without having to keep looking over their shoulders for the law, but also, because of it being on a river boat, it was something neither of them had ever done before and was a completely new experience, and was still one of the best times he’d had since earning their freedom. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Heyes. He had to keep something to tease him with.
“It wasn’t just from reading the Mark Twain stuff.” Heyes said now, “I remember Lom telling me about it after he joined the gang. His family came from that part of the country.”
“I miss Lom.” Curry said now. It had been six years since Lom had passed away, just short of his eightieth birthday.
“Me too.” nodded Heyes, “He was a good friend. But for him, we wouldn’t be where we are now.”
Curry nodded, thinking back to when he and Heyes had travelled, together, up to Wyoming, for Lom’s funeral.
“I don’t think he could have been any prouder, the day we got the amnesty, than if we’d been his own kin.” Heyes’ voice cut into his reverie.
“Yeah.” he nodded, “After you, he was the next best thing to a father that I’ve ever had.”
Heyes smiled, nodding. “I think he felt like that you know. Like a father to us. I don’t think he would have gone to so much trouble to help us out otherwise.”
No.” Curry agreed. Presently he said, “I remember that one Christmas we stayed with him after I’d got shot in the thigh trying to outrun that posse that were after us. We had to cross a river, but I was bleeding real bad and close to passing out so you got into the freezing water, to try and keep me from coming off my horse and drowning, and then went down with a fever. My wound got infected and I was off my feet for a couple of weeks, so he was having to wait on me, and you were so sick he was having to sit up nights with you to try and keep your fever down. He was exhausted, but he never complained once.”
“I remember.” nodded Heyes, his expression nostalgic.
Both were silent for several moments as they remembered Lom and his kindness to them down the years.
Presently, in a dreamy voice, Curry said, “Do you remember that last Christmas before our folks were killed?” Then, without waiting for Heyes to reply, continued, “Your Ma and Pa invited us around to your place for Christmas dinner.” He paused briefly, transported back to that day, when he was just seven and Heyes nine, when they’d all gone over to the Heyes’ farm to spend Christmas day together. “I remember it had snowed real heavy and it was nearly up to my knees as we walked over to your place.” he said presently, “And your folks had the biggest turkey I’d ever seen in my life. It probably wasn’t that big but, at that age, it seemed enormous, sitting on the platter on the table. And I remember your Pa making a big ceremony out of carving it, and all of us sitting round the dinner table, and a big fire burning in the hearth…” he trailed off with a wistful sigh.
“Yeah.” Heyes nodded, his expression also wistful as he remembered that last, happy Christmas before their parents’ brutal murders. Life had been so uncomplicated then, cared for, and cherished, by their parents, the biggest problem in their young lives being how to get out of doing their daily chores to go fishing, or tree climbing, in the woods. Less than five months later, their parents were gone and they had been left alone in the world. “Your Pa had made you a wooden gun and you went around all day pretending to shoot us.” he continued presently.
Curry nodded, remembering. “And your Ma had got you some book that you’d been pestering her for.”
Heyes nodded. “A book of poetry, by Wordsworth. Miss Wilson had read some to us in class, and it struck a chord in me somewhere.”
Curry shook his head ruefully. “You were obsessed with books even then.” he told him, but Heyes wasn’t listening as he gazed thoughtfully into the fire, his mind on the book of poetry. Presently he began to recite
​
“My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky;
So was it when my life began,
So is it now I am a man,
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!”
Curry eyed him in surprise. “You remember that from school?”
Heyes nodded. “It just seemed to make sense to me.”
Curry shook his head in wonder. “What happened to the book?” he asked presently.
Heyes shrugged. “Must have been destroyed when they burned our homes.” he said sadly.
Curry nodded. The same thing had happened to the wooden gun his father had fashioned him. A few moments later he said, “Do you think they’d be proud of us? Our folks?”
Heyes looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding slowly. “I’m sure they are.”
Curry eyed him. “Even though we became outlaws?”
Heyes looked at him. “We did what we had to do to survive.” he said firmly, “I’m sure, in our place, they’d have done the same.”
Curry sighed, and nodded. “It was a good Christmas, that one.” he said nostalgically.
Heyes nodded. “The best.”
Just then the door opened and a woman with slightly greying blonde hair, piled up on her head, poked her head around it, her blue eyes lighting into a smile when she saw Curry there.
“Hello, Jed. I thought I heard your voice.” she said softly, “How are you?”
“Hello, Olivia.” smiled Curry, “I’m fine. Thanks for inviting me to Christmas dinner.”
“You’re always welcome, Jed.” Olivia replied, before turning her eyes to Heyes, her gaze locking lovingly with his. She was still a strikingly beautiful woman, even at sixty four, with prominent cheek bones and a broad, generous, mouth that curled into a smile as she spoke to her husband.
“I’m just about to dish up the dinner. You two had better wash up.”
Heyes smiled at her, his eyes full of love. "Be right there, Livvy.” he replied.
Olivia left the room and Heyes got to his feet.
“Oh, wait, I almost forgot.” he said, moving to the bureau and opening a drawer. He withdrew a small package and held it out to Curry.
“Merry Christmas, Kid.” he said softly, reverting to the name he’d called him for so many years. Since getting the amnesty he was generally known to everyone as Jed, but Heyes still called him Kid if he didn’t consciously make an effort to remember to call him by his given name.
Curry took the package and unwrapped it, revealing a leather box. He flipped open the lid to find a pocket watch.
“Aw, Heyes, that’s great.” he smiled, “My other one’s been broke for months. Thanks a lot.”
“Open the cover.” Heyes said softly.
Curry opened it to find a miniature copy of his favourite picture of Emily, from their wedding day, fitted under glass inside the cover. Curry gave a soft gasp.
“How did you...” he began.
“Livvy organised it.” said Heyes, “She thought you’d like to have her picture with you.”
Curry lifted his gaze to Heyes’. “Thank you so much.” he said, his voice hoarse.
“It’s a pleasure.” Heyes gave him a gentle smile.
“Wait...” said Curry, going out to the hallway and retrieving the package he’d brought up with him. He brought it back into the room and held it out to Heyes.
Heyes took the package and unwrapped it, his eyes widening when he saw an exact copy of the cigar box he’d won from McCreedy.
“How did you get hold of this?” he asked in amazement, "I thought that one of McCreedy’s was a one-off.”
“It is.” smiled Curry, “I took a picture of it, and made a note of the different colours, and had a friend of mine, who’s good at marquetry, make a copy for me.”
Heyes opened the lid to see a luxurious red lining inside. Mcreedy’s was green.
“Gee, thanks, Kid. That’s great.” He crossed the room to open the other box and, scooping up the cigars, put them into the new one.
“What’ll you do with the old one?” Curry asked.
Heyes stood, with one box in each hand, looking from one to the other. Presently he put Curry’s box in pride of place on the bureau and moved to put the old box in one of the cupboards.
Curry smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to throw it away.” he told him. It wasn’t the value, or not, of the box that meant anything to him, it was the principle of winning it, from a man who rarely lost at anything, that kept him holding onto it. A man who, despite their frequent run-ins with over the years, Heyes, and Curry too, had liked a great deal, and keeping the box was like keeping his memory alive. Both of them had very few physical items from their childhoods, or from their lives before going straight, what few they did have, like the cigar box, a couple of items that Lom had bequeathed them, and a few mementos of their parents, rescued from the ruins of their homes after their murders, becoming more treasured with each passing year.
Heyes shrugged, looking sheepish, and Curry grinned.
“You’re just a sentimental old fool at heart, aint ya?” he quipped.
Heyes looked slightly embarrassed to realize just how well Jed knew him, having always believed he’d only ever shown what he wanted people to see and not what he really felt. “It’s taken you sixty eight years to work that out?” he joked now, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
Curry gave him a knowing look.
“Nah, Heyes. I’ve always known it. You might have fooled everyone else into believing you were a ruthless, scheming, egotistical, money grabbing, son-of-a-bitch, but you never fooled me one bit. You like to make out like you’re a lion but, really, you’re just a pussy cat at heart.”
Heyes just stared at him. This man had been his best friend for almost seventy years, shared everything with him, yet never before had he realized that that was how he thought of him.
Curry smiled, seeing that, for once, he had shocked him speechless.
Eventually, Heyes said, “Even pussy cats have claws.” in an attempt to have the last word.
Curry laughed. “Yeah, Heyes, they do. But they only use them for protection.” he added, throwing him a knowing look. Whatever deeds, bad or otherwise, that Heyes had done in his life had only ever been done to protect himself and Curry and keep them alive, and never with any deliberate malevolence.
Heyes eyed him, trying to think of a clever remark. But, unable to come up with one, eventually, he just shrugged, chuckling to himself.
“Come on, let’s eat, I’m starved.” he said, throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulder and leading him towards the door.
As he opened it, to usher him through to the dining room, Curry stopped and turned to look at him, “Merry Christmas, Heyes.” he said sincerely.
Heyes smiled, “And may there be many more of them!” he said as he followed Curry out of the room.
​
-ooOOoo-
EPILOGUE
Jed junior and Stella got married the following spring, as planned, and bore their first son the following December, followed by twin daughters two years later.
​
Columbine moved to New York to work as a designer and later opened her own store. She never married.
​
Matthew finally got married, to Katherine, his secretary, in 1929, aged 38, two years younger than his father had been when he'd married his mother. Their first son, Luke, was born the following year, just three months before Heyes’ eightieth birthday. Heyes passed away, contended, six months later, after contracting pneumonia. Olivia and Jed were both at his bedside.
​
After having already lost his beloved Emily, Jed, bereft at the loss, survived Heyes by only four months. He was buried, with Emily, alongside his lifelong friend, in adjoining plots that he and Heyes had picked out years before.
​
Olivia survived for a further seven years, witnessing the birth of two further granddaughters before being reunited with her husband the day after her eighty first birthday.
​
In 1950, Matthew and Katherine’s son, Luke, married Elizabeth, one of Jed Jr. and Stella’s twin daughters. In 1951, on what would have been Heyes’ one hundredth birthday, they bore a son, John, named after his father’s stillborn brother. John, who carried the best character traits of both of his great grandfathers’ went on to have six children, four boys and two girls
​
-ooOOoo-
​
​
​
​
​
