Carol Singers [Scrooge x Marley]

Stave I - An Unfortunate Matter

Marley was alive - to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Although, at that moment in time, that would have meant very little to one young Ebenezer Scrooge. Were you to tell him at that moment, stop him in the street, or over the counter where he worked, of the life of Jacob Marley, he may very well have looked at you with confusion. Maybe he would have politely asked whether there was anything else you wanted. For one does not just go around telling people about the lives of strangers they have never met, or even heard of.

But despite the rather alive nature of Jacob Marley, on that cold evening, not many people spared him a thought, and least of all Ebenezer. For Ebenezer at that moment was rather more concerned with thoughts of home, warmth, and comfort, and as such was busying himself with the hasty locking up of the corner shop at which he worked. The fire had long since gone out, and the coal stores had gone the same way, and so the inside of the shop was chilly, lit feebly by a candle on the counter where Ebenezer had spent the last hour huddled. Now at last, however, it was time for him to close the shop, although for all the business of the past few hours, I dare say it might as well have been closed then and not now.

Reluctantly, Ebenezer checked the shelves one last time, blew out the candle, and left the shop. He flinched at the biting wind blowing flakes of ice into his face, and hurried to lock the door. He pulled up his collar and stuffed his hands into his pockets, so that one might believe him to be some sort of strange turtle, stranded in some snowy wasteland. And snowy it was. Snow had been falling for hours now, and as such it was piled up in great banks against the shopfronts, high enough to seep over the top of Ebenezer's ankle boots, and send icy tendrils of water soaking down his socks. The sky was a dark grey, factory smoke mixing with dark clouds to make it seem as if it had been evening since noon. Not many people were about. There were some lamp-lighters going around in their heavy coats, the occasional last-minute shopper, and a couple other apprentices like Ebenezer, who had ended up with the last shift on Christmas Eve, and, having locked up their shops, were now rushing home to find some warmth.

The mention of these apprentices brings me back to the point I started from. There was no doubt that Marley was alive, one such apprentice among the many. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am about to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Juliet was alive, it would have been hard to impress upon us how much her death meant, after her relationship with Romeo, than there would be in any other grave being laid. Had Ebenezer locked up just a couple minutes earlier, he may have stumbled early upon a similar young apprentice, a young Jacob Marley, who had just finished locking up his shop just a dozen or so shopfronts down the road, and this story might have unfolded quite differently, but, alas, it was not to be.

And so that brings us back to Ebenezer, as he stumbled home in the biting wind. The snow was starting to pick up again, and the wind was blowing it up into his face as he walked. At the end of one of the streets, a group of workmen, finishing the last of their work for the day, had lit a meagre fire in a sort of iron bowl, hissing at the snow and sputtering in the wind, and here Ebenezer stopped to warm his hands and catch his breath for a couple moments. Once the chattering of his teeth had eased, and a bit of feeling returned to his hands, he pushed onwards once more, hands so deep in his pockets that any onlooker would have wondered if they were there at all. But there were no such onlookers, for the snow was falling hard and fast, and the bitter wind turned it up into flurries and flocks, spinning around and striking the unprotected wanderer. Even the prepared warrior stepping out into this veritable blizzard would have been blinded to anything further than half a dozen feet or so.

The snow was falling so thick in fact, that Ebenezer almost failed to notice his own front door, in such a hurry as he was. But in the last moment, by some act of God or coincidence, the snow abated, and he realised he had almost missed it. Hands shivering, he tried to unlock his door, and upon success pushed it open and slammed it shut behind him as if he were chased by the demons of hell itself. He walked through the large hall quickly, and opened the door to his rooms. Pulling off his soaking coat, he hung it up on the bare iron coat stand, where it hung sadly, dripping onto the floor. He pulled off his boots, and then, rubbing his hands, rushed into the sitting room to light a small fire, doing his best to conserve his dwindling supply of coal.

In the dim light of the starting fire, he looked around the small set of rooms in which he lived. The sitting room was sparsely furnished with a cabinet or two against the wall and two old armchairs huddled around the fire almost as if it were the ones seeking respite from the cold, not their occupant. There were lamps on the wall, but Ebenezer hardly lit them - he thought it better to conserve the little money he had. In the shadows of the far wall (although, given the size of the rooms, it was not very far at all), he could barely see the doors leading to his bedroom, and the small kitchen area. He kept his rooms tidy, and so the only things visible were two letters, lying open on the cabinet at the side of the room. Reluctantly, he wandered over to the cabinet and picked both letter up, falling down onto his armchair with his face glum, and re-read what he already knew was there, in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he would spot some error in his previous readings, or some technicality on which he could hope. But, alas, the words were still the same. The top letter read:

"DEAR Mister E. Scrooge

It is with deepest regrets that I must inform you that your position as 'Juniore Assistant' at Mr South's Grocer's and Other Assorted Goods is no longer required. Following the Festive Seasone, you will no longer be employed at the aforementioned. We appreciate your work in the past, and..."

Angrily, Ebenezer tossed the letter down to the ground. In the dim firelight, he scanned the second letter:

"NOTICE OF EVICTION - To: E. Scrooge

Following the increase in the cost of basic commodities, the rooms you are staying in will no longer be available to rent, taking effect four weeks after Christemas Day. You are required to vacate the premises by the above date. We apologise for any incon..."

Ebenezer slumped back on his chair. No more job, and his rooms going too. He ran his fingers through his short hair, before burying his face in his hands. The fire was dwindling, and the room dimmed even more than before, leaving just an orange glow on Ebenezer's face and hands. He got up slowly, and added fuel to the fire, and slowly it rose up to light the room with a warm glow. The warmth was starting to seep into his body, and he got up and stretched, meaning to walk to the kitchen and fetch himself something to eat. However, halfway to the kitchen door, the doorbell rang with a kind of pleasant clinking, and so Ebenezer rushed out of the door to his rooms and round to the main door of the house. He pulled it open, bracing himself against the cold as the wind rushed in. He opened the door to a stocky older gentleman in a long, warm frock coat, smart gloves and a top hat.

"Hello, I am looking for an Ebenezer Scrooge?", spoke the gentleman.

"That is myself", replied Ebenezer.

"Ah hello. I am Mr Moore, Alexander Moore, and this is an acquaintance of mine, Jacob Marley. May we come in?"

As he spoke, he gestured to his left, to where Ebenezer noticed a young man about his age; Jacob Marley, he presumed. Jacob was a little taller than Ebenezer, and he was smiling slightly, almost cheekily, as he looked at Ebenezer. His eyes were a light blue that sparkled as if he were laughing at some joke only he could hear, and his hair, a gorgeous sandy blond, was longer and pulled back into a short ponytail at the back of his head. He wore a worn top hat, and a thigh-length dark grey frock coat that was tight to his waist, and buttoned up against the cold weather. As they looked at each other Ebenezer forgot the cold, and the wind, as he stared, lost for just a moment in Jacob's eyes. Mr Moore stepped past Ebenezer into the house. Jacob broke off their eye contact with a grin as he followed Mr Moore into the house. Ebenezer closed the main door, and suddenly became very conscious that he was only wearing a shirt and simple waistcoat and trousers. He hastily tried to smooth down the wrinkles in his clothes, before leading Mr Moore and Mr Marley into his rooms.

Luckily he had kept his rooms tidy, and Mr Moore looked around briefly before hanging his coat and hat on the coat stand, and then sitting down in one of the armchairs beside the fire. He wore a neat white waistcoat under his jacket. Jacob Marley followed suit, if you will forgive the pun, and sat down in the opposite chair. Ebenezer, never having had an occasion where more than two chairs were needed, hastily went into the kitchen and retrieved a spindly wooden seat upon which he placed himself.

"So, Mr Ebenezer Scrooge," said the gentleman slowly. "I am Alexander Moore. I am a successful business owner, and a rather generous man, if I do say so myself. I have a particular interest in small, potentially profitable, businesses, and frequently support them as they start. I have heard from Mr South that you have recently become unemployed, and hearing about your success in your previous occupation, have come to give you an offer."