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“He hasn’t got any toys,” Johanna blurts out one evening, her hands drying plates with a dish towel, and her voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for Anthony to hear her from the other room. Her tone isn’t one of epiphany, more of a subdued remark, as if it had been on her mind for ages. “He’s a little boy, and he hasn’t got anything to play with. It’s sad.”
At her words, Anthony’s eyes drift away from his book, landing on Toby’s sleeping frame, curled up on the sofa next to him, illuminated by the golden glow of the fire. He’d been doing considerably better since they’d found him in the bakehouse, aside from the occasional nightmare and refusal to eat meat – his cheek was smushed against the arm of the sofa and looked rather silly, but at least there was enough fullness to his face for it to smush and look silly.
He hummed, carefully brushing a stray brunet curl from Toby’s eyes. “Pirelli doesn’t surprise me…and I suppose Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett never thought to.”
“It’s sad,” Johanna reiterates as she flicks the excess water from her hands. “He hasn’t got anything, and he should have something, what with Christmastime right around the bend and -,” her eyes lit up, and the corners of her mouth tugged into a bright smile as she discarded her dishtowel and scurried into the sitting room, landing at Anthony’s side. “It’s nearly Christmastime. Oh, we simply must get him something, sir, for the holidays.”
He could feel the joy radiating from his wife, and her smile must have been contagious, because Anthony found the same one tugging at his own lips. “That’s a wonderful idea, miss. Have you already got something in mind?”
Johanna quietly chewed at her bottom lip as she thought, peering over at the boy, like she was trying to read his mind to figure out exactly the perfect gift – the only thing she derived was that he on-and-off snored, and that he must be able to sense it when people stare at him in his sleep, because he began to stir, which Anthony was quick to soothe.
She knew he fancied gin, but she’d been trying to wean him off of it for weeks now; he liked the piano, but they didn’t have nearly enough money to get him real lessons; he’d loved the train ride into Paris, but…
Suddenly, Johanna sat upright, her face aglow with another brilliant idea.
“I passed a toy shop while I was walking through the market the other day, and they had the loveliest little wooden train in the window. Do you remember how he adored the train ride from London? It’d be perfect for him, Anthony!”
Anthony grinned, Johanna’s infectious excitement enveloping him in it’s warmth. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “We’ll plan a trip to the market for tomorrow, then.” With his free hand, he grabbed the blanket hanging over the back of the sofa and gently draped it over the sleeping lad beside him, his heart swelling as Toby snuggled further into the warmth. “It’ll be a brilliant surprise.”
. . .
And it was a brilliant surprise on Christmas morning, when Toby freed the little wooden train from it’s parcel, and his mouth stretched into the widest of smiles and he jumped from the floor to give Johanna and Anthony hugs so fierce he very well nearly knocked them both over. The little wooden train had even littler red wheels and fit just right in the palms of this hands, and had a lead attached to the front of its little engine, so he could tug it along with him wherever he went, and the house was soon filled with Toby’s amused laughter and tiny wooden wheels squeaking across the floor.
“This is the best holiday ever!” Toby declared as he skidded to a stop before Johanna and Anthony, the train halting by his heels. “Thank you, sir; thank you, miss!”
There was no doubt that Anthony would eventually have to fix the wheels so they didn’t squeak as much, and that the string would need to be replaced before the week was out, and that the little wooden train would most definitely be nothing but a scuffed wooden block with wheels by next Christmas, but all well-loved toys turn out that way.
Johanna and Anthony were merely thrilled that their Toby now had a toy that was going to be loved and played with so often that it would need to be fixed in the first place.