Outside
in the winter night, snow spattered, unseen, against the other side of the steamy
glass, glass which reflected back images like mirrors against the dark beyond.
It
was a fairly crowded Friday evening train, but not full, there were still a
number of empty seats, one of which was next to 21-year-old Paul Hartley.
The
carriage was occupied by a mixture of weary shoppers, shopping bags bursting at
the seams and commuting workers content that the weeks work was done, all journeying
homeward at the dark days end.
A
cheerful crowd though, Paul thought, pleased with themselves for a variety of
reasons, bright faced and hearty and full of seasonal cheer and anticipating
the Christmas holiday and seemingly oblivious to the drafty carriage, and the
winter weather beyond it.
Paul
sat alone as the train rattled out of Nettlefield Station and felt lifted by
the quiet jolliness as he contemplated the collective countenance of his self-satisfied
travelling companions and then she appeared, and Paul was all at once lifted
higher.
Because
there she was, larger than life, vivacious and self-assured, covered with snowflakes
and laughing to herself.
It
was his snow angel, Linda Parsons, with snow covering her like sugar on a
doughnut, a delicious confection he would have gladly consumed.
Linda
was wrapped up against the cold in a red woolen hat and coat and a long-knitted
scarf draped about her neck.
Still
laughing, she shook her head and the light brown hair that hung beneath her
hat, danced about her shoulders and the snowflakes settled on them melted away
from her soft curls.
There
was a rosy redness on her cheeks, almost matching the hue of her coat, either
from the cold winter evening or a liberal taste of Christmas spirit, a little
of both Paul assumed.
Linda
made her way unsteadily down the train between the seats leaving wet snowflakes
in her wake with her full-length coat swishing from side to side.
She
moved almost gracelessly, which Paul thought suited her well, as she tottered a
little in her high heeled boots, perhaps due to the lurching motion of the
train or the Christmas punch and eggnog at the office party.
As
Paul studied her she was still laughing softly to herself, which he thought also
suited so well, and then she saw him, and her eyes lit up like beacons, and he
sighed as he looked into those wonderful, sparking, laughing eyes as she
stopped and stood momentarily open mouthed, and then her smile illuminated the
carriage and his heart soared at the sight of her and as Paul returned her
smile she flushed a little deeper red.
It
had been almost a year since he had last seen her, and she was his lovely lost love,
Linda, and it had been a hard year for him, in which he had locked all his
feelings for her away, but the instant he saw her they were back with a vengeance.
It
was like a door had opened in his heart and they all rushed out, he had missed
her so much in that time, but he didn’t know just how much until that moment.
They
were never lovers, only ever friends, but very special friends, very close
friends, though nothing more.
They
liked each other’s company, they would have lunch together, journey to and from
work on the same bus, shared a cab when the need arose and laughed a lot
together, shared confidences, and talked incessantly, because they were best
friends but that was as far as it ever went, though he wanted more, he wanted so
much more but Paul didn’t want to lose what they had together, so he said
nothing.
He
loved her so much that it hurt, but she was not free for him to love and Linda
was not free to love him even if she had wanted to, so Paul contented himself
with their special friendship and his unrequited love remained just that.
If
that was all he could have then better that than nothing, so he was happy to
love her unconditionally.
They
had plenty of opportunities to see each other as they both lived in the same
road in Millmoor, he with his cousin and she with her parents, and they both
worked at St Augusta’s Hospital in Nettlefield, where Linda was a clerical
assistant and Paul was a porter.
And
that unrequited love affair could have gone on indefinitely had circumstances not
changed for him when his father died.
As
a result, he had to move away to look after his mother and he didn’t see Linda
again, not until that moment.
When
she was standing in front of him, his angel, larger than life, smiling,
blushing, laughing and oh so lovely.
Paul
stood up and smiled at her again and she threw herself at him and Linda hugged him
so tightly and as she did so, he smelled her hair as he held onto her and was
intoxicated by her scent and all the old feelings flooded back, over whelming him.
Paul
had often dreamt of being reunited with her, but never in his wildest dreams
had he expected such a reaction from her.
“Could
it be my love is not unrequited?” he wondered
They
sat down heavily on the lumpy seats in the rattling carriage and to all intents
and purposes were completely alone.
They
sat looking at each other in silence not wanting to lose sight of one another
just in case the spell was broken.
Linda
removed a glove and put her hand on his as if testing it was not a dream and he
was really there, in substance.
“It
really is you” she said and then she slipped her hand into his, her delicate
fingers lacing between his, her hand so small in his grasp.
For
the remainder of the journey they reveled in each other’s company as they caught
up with the lost months, filling in the gaps of their time apart, and as they
did so they remained oblivious to their traveling companions, it was as if they
had never been apart.
But
apart they most certainly had been, she still worked at the hospital in
Nettlefield and lived at home in Millmoor while he now lived in Nettlefield and
worked for Stephenson’s Supermarket’s as a Warehouse manager.
Linda
playfully chastised him for disappearing so completely from her life.
“I
thought it was the only way” he said, intimating the disposition of his
feelings to her for the first time.
“I’ve
missed you so much” she said and squeezed his hand and then the train shook to
a halt as all too soon they had arrived at Millmoor Station and their fellow
travelers all rushed off into the winter air heading towards their Christmases.
Reluctantly
Paul and Linda left their seats and disembarked from the carriage arm in arm, then
hand in hand as they walked slowly along the platform, still talking and
laughing, until they handed over their tickets and then stepped out of the
Station and onto the street, where the shops were now closing and the town had
settled down to a relative quiet, although from one pub Noddy Holder screamed
“it’s Christmas” to the outside world and only the pubs and restaurants seemed
to hold any attraction to the remaining Millmoorian’s.
Paul
and Linda however were not interested in noisy hostelries, so they joined a
small group gathered round the Salvation Army band and joined in with the carol
singing in the town square before reluctantly strolling towards the taxi rank as
the snow again fell onto Linda’s soft curls.
They
were both bound for different parts of town, Linda, had to get home to babysit
her sister and Paul was bound for The Downshire Grey where he was meeting up
for a Christmas drink with friends.
They
took their place in the queue of travelers eager to be home, Paul was eager to
be nowhere else but with Linda and he shuffled along for the last few steps
like a sulky schoolboy.
Linda
was smiling as she turned to face him and kissed him gently on the lips, such a
warm sensitive and tender kiss, their first ever kiss, and when their lips
parted she smiled at him coyly and flushed a deep shade of pink.
“I’ve
wanted to do that for so long” she said, and Paul kissed a snowflake off her
nose and cupping her flushed cheek in his palm he slid his fingers beneath her soft
brown curls and caressed the soft downy hair on her nape as he pulled her sweet
lips to his and returned her kiss.
Linda’s
arms enveloped him, holding him so close, and so tightly, not wanting to let
go, not wanting to lose what they had found and not wanting to lose him again.
They
stood locked in their first passionate embrace as the snow fell softly on the
scene until Linda pulled away for a moment before burying her face in his neck
and saying softly.
“I’ve
missed you so much, I’ve missed your love for me”
Paul
had waited so long for that moment, waited so long to hear those words, to hear
his love returned and then they kissed again.
Taxi’s
arrived and departed through the slush and the queue around them just kept
moving as if unaware of the depth of their love.
After
an indeterminate period, they moved from the queue and found a bench in the town
square, in a quiet spot with a view of the Christmas Tree and talked.
The
substance of that talk was of love, a shared love, an unquenchable love.
Not
an unrequited one as Paul had supposed because Linda had the same profound
feelings for him, she had always done so she said, but she had not been free to
pursue her love for Paul a year earlier and she was still not free.
So,
Linda was torn between the two loves in her life, torn between the comfortable familiarities
for a good man, a loyal and dependable man, for safety if you like, and the
passion she felt for a soul mate.
Paul
was similarly conflicted, Linda was the love of his life and he would never,
could never love another in the same way, but it wasn’t fair on Daniel, her
other love, her childhood sweetheart, he hadn’t done anything wrong.
Paul
had been on the receiving end of that kind of pain and he found himself unable
to inflict it onto another, even if he were a rival, so the conclusion to their
converse as they cuddled on the quiet bench was that their love was a forbidden
one, and had to be set aside.
They
could be best friends no more, not now the genie was out of the bottle, though
they both wanted more, so much more.
Paul
could not content himself with the special friendship that they had once
treasured, not now that he knew his love was not unrequited.
There
was no going back, now Pandora’s Box had been opened, but at least now he knew
she loved him with the same depth of feeling as he loved her.
After
they had reached the conclusion of their frank exchange they slowly walked hand
in hand back to the taxi rank and kissed again in the falling snow.
They
joined the queue and all too soon it was her turn and after a final kiss she
got into a taxi and through the winter wonderland Linda departed taking Paul’s
love with her.
As
the Taxi drove away with Linda in the back, with her palm pressed against the
glass, she craned her neck to keep sight of him through the snow spattered
window until the very last moment, until the cab had gone from his sight.
Linda
was gone from his arms, gone from his view, gone from his life but a Christmas
happening had changed his life forever, after a brief encounter, fleeting, here
and then gone.
Her
scent was still in his nostrils, the taste of joy on his lips, and his soulmate
was gone forever, yet she remained forever in his memory, forever in his heart.
He
resolved that he would never see her again and moved away in the New Year to
avoid another chance encounter and make a life elsewhere, but Paul never forgot
Linda.
And
when on a winter’s night he heard the Salvation Army play, or when the snow
falls during Christmas time, or when he felt a snowflake on his skin, he feels her
small hand in his and all at once she is in his arms once again, and he can
smell her soft brown hair and the taste of her is on his lips and he hears her
say “I love you” and Linda is his forever.
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