The Dollhouse

In the hearts of London in the early 1900's, two young sisters come to the city's run-down antique shop to find out if the owner really is a witch, but looks can be deceiving...

In 1906, in the heart of London, there laid a vast array of little shops. In a row, along a block near Westminster Abbey, there was: A Tailor's Shop, perfect for creating the perfect gown for a party. A small Coffee House, where many came to mingle and catch up on important gossip. An old Inn, The Lady's Bow, which was used as a gamble house on occasion.

The last shop was at the end of the street corner, and it was an aged, two-story Victorian place. The grayish-red brick and the oldness gave the place a musty feel to it, as though it were something sleeping for many years, waiting for an occupant to arrive. The upper floor's windows always had shades drawn, even on bright days. But the first floor had one long, uncovered window next to the faded white door. Peeling words occupied the top length of the window, reading: Alice's Fine Antiques.

A woman of the same name owned the shabby place, a woman who was seldom seen by others unless they entered. The setting and rare sights of Alice convinced the children of London's schoolhouse that she was a witch. Even the parents, who usually scolded their children for thinking such things, warned their young ones to stay away from the antique shop.

Although the store gave off a rather uneasy feeling to passersby, only a few would stop by and browse for a very short time. Unless one was a curious child, wondering what could lie inside.

Little Carol Pekkins stopped outside the window, hand-in-hand with her older sister, Ida. Freshly released from the confines of the schoolhouse, the two were free to wander London's store streets for an hour, as long as they were both home for supper.

Many an after school day, the two girls would always walk past the Antique Store on their way to London's fine flower shop to admire the bunches of lavender and roses, or to Hamleys Toy Store to peer in at the newest dolls and softest teddy bears, or they would even take a trolley all the way to Buckingham Palace to walk along the nearby park paths weaving through the gardens of exotic birds and flowers that resided there. But this day, the two decided that they wanted to follow their curiosity through the door like a dog following its nose.

"Is it open?" asked Ida, twirling her finger around one of her many reddish-brown ringlets that hung down to her shoulders.

"I'm sure it is. I see a light on inside through the window." Sure enough, a soft orange glow came from within the store, visible through the dusty glass.

"Well, then let's go in." Said Ida. Together, the girls turned the elaborately carved doorknob, pushed open the creaky door, and walked inside. Quietly.

The inside of the shop was very dim, save for the soft orang light coming from an old pull chain lamp with a shade decorated with tiny black flowers, The rest of the shop was crammed full of vintage-looking objects, clustered with age and dust. The air smelled strongly of mothballs, musty books, and stale tea.

On one side of the wall, there was a small glass case displaying silvery pieces of jewelry, necklaces set with tiny rubies, and rings made from precious-looking stones. A few display boxes even rotated...very slowly.

In a corner nearby, there sat a tall shelf packed with thick, hard-to-read books covered in a fine layer of age, the pages yellowed over many years sitting unread. Around the shelf, there were two large, uncomfortable-looking chairs, but only one footrest.

"Jiminy..." breathed Carol, as the two made their way through the shop.

Along the shop's right wall, there were many hooks, which held up hung dresses, pinafores, coats, hats, and gloves. Underneath, shoes lay in neat rows, paired to one another like Ida and Carol themselves.

In the far left corner of the shop, concealed in a warmly-lit cove, sat a group of toys, seated orderly around the edge of a dark green rug scattered with embroidered pink flowers in twisting patterns.

"What luck!" Ida breathed happily. "Toys!" The two girls ran to the corner and admired what they saw.

On low shelves, there sat sweet little picture-books filled with rhymes and fairy tales. Near these, a low round table, three chairs, and a play tea set was displayed politely. On the rug, there sat an old jack-in-the-box, a pile of blocks, and an assortment of dolls and stuffed animals! Formal-dressed porcelain dolls, kind looking teddy bears, stringed wooden dolls, and smiling rag dolls sat surrounding the most wonderful thing of all.

It was a dollhouse, sitting in the middle of the rug, with not a trace of dust to be seen on it. Without a doubt, it was the same architecture as the shop holding it was. Unlike the shop's dusty, grimy appearance, the dollhouse was neat and clean, the small dark red bricks smooth-looking. The roof was a polished slab of light brown wood.

The dollhouse looked so fine and sweet that Carol reached out and gently ran her finger down the roof. The entire front of the dollhouse swung open, revealing an interior of a fancily decorated number of rooms. The girls leaned closer to see.

There was  little parlor with a doll-sized piano. Closer inspection revealed that it held a tiny turnkey; it was a music box that could actually play!

There was also a tiny kitchen, a sitting-room for having tea, and a curly staircase that led upwards into a little library, a parlor, and, the stairs finally ending at the one top floor, one long little bedroom, doll beds laying side by side.

Ida counted, "One, two, three...four beds."

"And look!" said Carol. "There are two little dolls laying in them!"

In two of the beds, dolls no bigger than the length of a hand lay in sweet little white cotton nightgowns, their soft curly doll hair spread among the pillows. They were porcelain, shown by their rosy little cheeks. Their little eyes were closed, like a real sleeping person.

"Let's play for a while, Ida!" Carol eagerly started to reach into the dollhouse-

"Please refrain from touching those, love..."

The girls jumped, knocking over a teddy bear. They spun around to find a woman standing there, no more than a foot away. It seems like she'd been there the whole time; she had made no sound.

The woman looked young, and she was very pretty. Although her pale cheeks did not shine, the absence was made up by her eyes, which shown a beautiful rich brown. Her long dark red hair was tied back with a puffy white hair-ribbon bow, with thin braids dipping down to the nape of her neck in loops. She wore a dress made of soft-looking magenta trimmed with layers of black lace and ribbons. She appeared to be wearing a bustle, which was rather outdated, but never the less, she was stunning.

"Oh, my dears, I'm terribly sorry for scaring you, but I would prefer you not to touch my dollhouse..." She spoke with a soft, enticing voice, seeming somewhat motherly.

Nervously, Ida twisted a ringlet around her finger. "W-We're sorry, Ma'am. We didn't..."

"Mean to burst in," Carol finished, looking up at the woman with round cornflower blue eyes.

"Oh, my dear. You didn't burst in, anyone is welcome in my Antique Shop." The woman walked over to the tea set, her dress swished with each step, and sat down in one of the chairs. She smiled softly at the two girls, her teeth glimmering like fresh pearls.

Ida shuffled her feet nervously, staying where she was. "A-Are you Miss Alice?" she asked.

The woman nodded. "Why, yes. I am. And who might you both be?"

Little Carol piped up. "I'm Carol, and this is my sister, Ida!"

Alice held out a pale hand with thin fingers. "I have the great pleasure of acquainting with you two...won't you have some tea? Lady friends always join together for tea. It is proper, after all."

The two girls glanced at each other before reaching out and taking Alice's hand. It was soft...but it was very cold.

Ida and Carol were walked to the other two chairs, where they sat down. Surprisingly, the two chairs were rather warm...as though someone had already sat in them.

The two watched curiously as Alice opened the lid of the little teapot and dunked the small teabag up and down. A warm, heavy, rich aroma swirled from the teapot. Ida and Carol looked at each other again, their eyebrows raised high. Was tea in the pot the entire time?

A tink! of a china plate against metal made them look back towards Alice; this time, they stared, mouths agape.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Alice had brought out a silvery tray tray holding a sugar bowl, a small pitcher of cream, and a china plate laden with bite-sized lemon tarts garnished with holly berries.

"Tea is served, darlings." Said Alice, smiling at their astonished faces. She started pouring the steaming tea into the cups.

"H-How...how did you..?" Ida could barely speak. They had only been looking away for less than a minute!

Alice placed a tart on each girl's saucer. "Oh, I always keep some in case company comes by..." She gazed down into her cup. "Hardly any people come by to the shop...so I've been rather lonely much of my time." She took a sip, not bothering to blow on the tea to cool it. "Most of the time, all I have for company are my dolls."

Ida looked past Alice's shoulders at the dollhouse's rooms...and nearly did a double take.

The two little dolls were no longer in their little beds. The tiny sheets were smoothed, the cotton-ball pillows plumped up, and the little white nightgowns hung on tiny hooks coming from a wee wardrobe. One doll was dressed in a sweet green taffeta dress, the other in a yellow gown, complete with a dolly crinoline. Their hair was combed, and tied back in yarn bows. One doll sat at the music box piano, her tiny arms poised as if playing a song. The other stood in the kitchen, her arms stretched out holding a lemon tart. Just like the ones sitting on the china plate. Looking closely, Ida saw that the little doll oven's was open, as if the tart had been baked and pulled out.

"Ah..." said Alice, smiling. "They seem to like you two...they can be oriented at times. It is odd, though...they're mostly quite shy."

Ida sat still, shocked at what she was hearing. Carol stared at Alice with those big round eyes of hers, drinking her tea from the cup held in both hands.

"I think of these little dolls as family, you know." Alice dropped a sugar lump into her cup. "Because they're all I have."

Her voice, for once, held a hint of sadness. Carol put down her cup, and quietly reached over, patting Alice's hand with her little one. "Miss Alice...please don't be sad..." She smiled, her cheeks dimpling. "I'm glad you have the dolls with you, they act like a very nice family!"

"Yes," agreed Ida. "You...deserve much kindness, for being kind to us." She blushed with slight awkwardness at Alice.

Alice sat there looking at the girls with shining eyes...then her cheeks grew rosy. She appeared to blossom like a flower of light in the dim shop. Her smile quivered slightly. No one had ever said such kind words to her before. These sweet girls, Alice thought, are the most kind ones in all of London...

It was true; Alice thought of them from that moment on as her first friends. They made her feel loved inside.

Outside, the group heard the Clock Tower striking 5.

"Oh! We have to go..." Ida said. She drained the last of her tea; Carol did the same.

"I don't want to leave," said Carol, looking forlorn. She glanced at the tiny dolls; their tiny faces appeared forlorn as well.

"I don't want you to leave, either..." said Alice. "But I'm afraid you must. Your mother will worry."

The girls stood up, Ida taking Carol's hand. "Thank you for the tea, Miss Alice." Ida said.

Alice walked the girls to the shop door and opened it. Before they even took a step, Alice dropped to her knees and suddenly embraced them, as a mother would to a child. Surprised at first, the girls returned the hug, blushing brightly.

"Promise that you'll come visit tomorrow?" Alice asked softly.

The girls promised.

For the next few weeks, the sisters would run straight to the Antique Shop after school. On weekends, whatever spare time they acquired was always spent visiting Alice. A strong friendship developed between the three, and only increased as time passed. The two sisters were happy, but not as happy as Alice. For the first time in her life, she had two young ones who cared about her.

One day, Alice sat at the tea table, waiting expectantly for Ida and Carol. the tiny dolls sat in their little parlor of the dollhouse, their backs straight, seeming to also wait.

Faintly, she heard the Clock Tower strike 4. Alice felt her heart skip excitedly.

The girls did not come.

Alice felt slightly off. Perhaps they're running late, she thought.

A minute passed, then two. Then five. Then ten.

No Carol or Ida.

Alice started to grow nervous. Where could they be? She looked at the tiny dolls, whose little faces showed an expression of anxiety.

A sharp knock at the door startled Alice. Quickly, she stood up and briskly walked to the door.

What she thought were the girls turned out to be an older child, a girl of about 13. She wore a stained pinafore over a dark grey dress.

"Hello, what do you need, dear?" asked Alice, her heart racing slightly.

The girl said nothing, but held out a letter. When Alice took it, the girl curtsied slightly before stalking off.

Hands shaking, Alice opened the letter to find a sheet of parchment paper. Written in slightly crooked handwriting was this message.

Miss Alice,

I hope this gets to you soon, for we have bad news. Our mother and father died of consumption a night ago. Father was sick, so mother sent us to a friend's house so we wouldn't catch ill. She must have also been ill, for we found out about their deaths this morning. Carol and I have been sent to the London Orphan House now. Although we were sent away, Carol says she doesn't feel well. Neither do I.

We miss you. ~Ida

Alice's stomach twisted with horror. She dropped the letter, going over in her mind what she read.

"Oh no..." she breathed. Less than a moment later, she slammed the door of the Shop, hitched up her skirts, and ran as fast as she could down the street. Passerby gave a start and jumped out of the woman's way. How strange it was to see the unusually quiet, rarely seen Miss Alice running down the street as though she were a madman being chased by the guards after breaking into Buckingham Palace!

In no less than a few minutes, Alice arrived at the London Orphan House, breathing heavily. She quickly opened the doors and bustled inside.

A middle aged woman wearing spectacles sat behind the main desk, writing with an ink pen intently. She looked up to Alice when she heard her footsteps.

"Yes, Madam? What is it?" she asked, rather sternly.

Alice stopped, curtsied, and spoke. "W-Well, I received a letter from...from one of the other girls here, that two friends of mine arrived. Not too long ago...their names are Carol and Ida-"

The woman wrinkled her nose, disgusted. "Oh. The sick ones. They're in the Infirmary."

"Oh, thank you!" Alice started to run in, but was grabbed around the wrist by the lady.

"Dear me, what ARE you doing? You may NOT go inside, you'll catch ill."

Alice pulled her hand free. "B-But, they're dear to me..!" She sounded like a frightened child with every word. "You must let me see them! What if they perish??"

"Then the Good Lord will take them," the lady said, leading Alice to the door. "You should really be thanking me for keeping you well." She opened the door, gently pushed Alice out, and closed the door with a snap.

Alice felt tears in her eyes. "I'd gladly get sick if it could keep them alive." she said to herself. Quietly, she walked to an open window; the Infirmary window. Staying low, she raised her eyes just until she could see over the windowsill.

Inside, in dull-looking beds, laid Ida and Carol. The both had dark circles ringing their eyes, and their skin looked white and pinched. Ida slept feverishly, coughing slightly. Carol, however, was awake. She looked up and saw Alice.

"Miss Ali-" Carol covered her mouth and coughed hard, making Alice's heart hurt. "A-Alice..."

"My poor dears..." Alice said, the tears coming back. One escaped her eye and ran down her cheek.

"Miss Alice..." Carol got out of bed and, tottering, made her way to the window. Alice reached in and gently stroked Carol's once dimpled, rosy cheeks. Her cheeks felt too warm.

"They wouldn't let me in to see you..." said Alice.

Carol gave her a smile, but it was a sickened smile, once a beautiful one. It had been murdered by illness. "Please don't cry, you're here now, Miss Alice..." she looked back at her sister. "The nurse that comes in says that my sister and I have...well...about a day."

Alice's throat swelled. She placed a comforting hand on Carol's head.

"Carol, don't you believe what they say for a single second!" She whispered. "I'll help you and Ida out."

"Out of this Orphan House?" Carol asked.

"And out of your illness." promised Alice. "Go back to bed, I'll be back soon."

A while later, Alice was briskly walking back to the Orphan House from the shop, her hands full. In each hand was a small lemon tart.

The next morning, the nurse arrived at the Orphan House. She walked into the Infirmary...and stopped. Carol and Ida lay in bed, their eyes staring up to nothing. They were still...and paler than the night before.

Meanwhile, in the Antique Shop, Alice sat at the dollhouse, very busy. She picked up one doll and placed it in the parlor. The other she placed into the kitchen.

"There we go..."

From two of the little doll beds, she picked up two more dolls. She carefully dressed them in matching little blue dresses, lacy and covered in small pinafores. She stroked one doll's reddish-brown ringlets, and admired the other's round cornflower blue eyes.

"See...I promised you two that I'd help you out..." she whispered, smiling a warm, motherly smile. 

The dolls blinked once...and smiled.

"...My dears."