Christmas
was just around the corner for the inhabitants of Highfinch which nestled on the edge
of the Pepperstock Hills where the Lily Green Hollows Golf Club separated the
village from the Hamlet of Lily Green, which made up the parish of St Martins
Church and between Lily Green and the sleepy hamlet of
Kingfisherbridge was where Alex Trafford lived and since it was only a few weeks before Christmas, his
divorcee sister Kate and his niece India were staying with him, which was how
it had been for the previous eight years, ever since her divorce, and he saw no
reason to deviate from the norm that year.
Northerly winds shrieked through the trees, carrying winter on its coat tails,
as they wrapped themselves around the house and tried to shake it from its
foundations with all their spiteful might as the freezing rain and snow they
carried streaked down the double glazing, creating eerie shadows on the walls
which were at odds with the glow from the hearth.
It
was cozy and safe inside the house as he watched the fury of the storm outside
until he shivered, so he pulled the curtains together and shut out the stormy
vision.
His
sister Kate and her daughter India were in the kitchen making Christmas
cookies, mince pies, Christmas cake and pastries and the smell of cinnamon,
spices and ginger was mouth-watering but he knew from experience that they
wouldn’t let him have one, Amy would have done, she always did.
But
Amy was gone now, gone forever and he missed her so much, but it was the first
Christmas since her death and he didn’t know what to do without her, he didn’t
know where he fitted in.
When
Amy was alive she steered the ship and he was her first mate, but now he was
cut adrift and rudderless.
He
sat down in his chair by the fire and looked at the Christmas Tree and winced,
trimming the tree was Amy’s forte and what he had done was a pale imitation
which was when he decided mainly for want of something to do, to get up and go
in search of more decorations.
He
opened the hatch and pulled down the ladder and climbed the steps to the loft
and sought out the decorations that he hoped would improve the appearance of
the tree.
It
was a large house and subsequently it had a large loft and after more than
twenty years living there the loft was an absolute treasure trove.
He
switched on the light and he muttered to himself as the dim light from the LED
bulb did little better than a candle like glow which created weird and
wonderful, if weak and feeble, shapes all over the loft.
He
was of his time and much preferred light bulbs that came on to maximum
brightness the moment you flicked the switch.
He
knew it would brighten eventually he would just have preferred it to be
immediate.
There
were huge trunks and boxes full of old clothes and shoes, old books of his
fathers and toys from his childhood and so many other memories were stored in
the loft.
The
winds took on new life up in the roof space, howling like a banshee as granular
snow and hailstones beat its staccato rhythm on the roof and the unearthly
soundtrack put him in an eerie frame of mind.
He momentarily forgot the reason for his trip to the attic, as he started to
ponder what treasures he might rediscover.
Then
he remembered why he was there and opened a box but only found some of his
sister Kates old dolls.
Then
out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure which made him jump but when he
looked closer it was just an old dress maker’s dummy.
But
he felt himself drawn to that corner of the loft and in particular a large oak
chest.
He
knelt down in front of it and unbuckled the leather strap and lifted the lid
and instantly new what it contained even if he could see inside the plastic
cover, it was his wife’s wedding dress, he hadn’t seen it since their wedding
day or touched the silk folds and felt their softness against his skin since
that wonderful day.
She
had packed it lovingly away because she dreamed that one day her daughter would
wear it on her wedding day, a common enough dream for a mother.
Sadly
they were never blessed with a little girl, not a boy for that matter, it
wasn’t to be for them, and it was his one regret, that he was unable to give
her a child.
Suddenly he felt compelled to touch the soft cool silk, so he carefully
unzipped the bag and tentatively reached for the silk and in the instant his
fingers touched the fabric, the dress makers dummy seemed to come to life and
he looked up and found himself staring mesmerized at what appeared to be his
darling wife Amy as she was on that wonderful day in June all those years ago
when they were married at St Martins Church, and he sighed to see her sweet
smiling face with sparkling blue eyes.
The
tone of the wind seemed to change at that point and it seemed to have been
replaced by church bells and wedding music, he knew it wasn’t possible but he
couldn’t move and didn’t want to for that matter.
“I
miss you so much” he said to the apparition and he felt soft kisses on his neck
and he sighed again
Just
at that moment he was brought back to the moment by a call from the landing
“Uncle
Alex! Lunch is ready”
“Ok
I’ll be right down” he said and the blissful moment had gone.
He
zipped the garment bag up again, closed the lid of the trunk and re-buckled the
strap, then he walked back to the ladder but looked back as he descended and
she was there again smiling at him and softly said
“I
will be with you always”
“Thank
you” he responded and as he continued his descent she added
“And
the tree looks fine darling”
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