Uncanny Christmas Tales – (011) Mistletoe and Miracles

 

It was Christmas Day at my parents’ house and it was heaving with all my happy semi intoxicated relatives, Mum and Dad, my kid brother, two older sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins, and I was glad they were happy even if I wasn’t.

I just wished they would take their happiness elsewhere as I had no need of it, even if I was the reason the entire clan had assembled that day.

It was my mother’s idea to invite everyone to make Christmas noisy and happy and jolly and to keep me distracted, and my mother was something of a force of nature so when she “invited” it was generally accepted to be an order, she meant well of course.

Christmas Dinner was tolerable enough; the jollity was blissfully muted when they had their mouths full of my mum’s excellent cooking, but then as soon as the last spoonful of Christmas Pud had been consumed it all ramped up again.

Mum organized the girls in the kitchen and Dad got everyone else clearing away in preparation for an afternoon of fun, I retreated to the hall and got my coat on because the last thing I needed was fun.

“Where are you going Nick?” mum asked

“I just need to walk my dinner off” I replied patting my stomach, and she nodded her understanding but knew it was nothing to do with needing a constitutional.

“Do you want some company?” she asked

“No mum I’ll be fine, I won’t be long”

“You’ll need your hat and scarf” she insisted and draped a scarf around my neck and pulled my woolen hat on my head, and then she put a hand on each cheek and kissed me like she did when I was a boy and I smiled a weak smile.

“You’ll need gloves as well” she said “its bitter cold out there”

Her voice cracked and she walked quickly back into the kitchen.

I wished for her sake I could have hidden my sadness, it had almost been as difficult a year for her as it had for me.
“I'll be fine mum,” I said to myself “I just need time”
I braced myself as I opened the front door and then walked outside and saw it was still snowing.

I reached the end of the path and turned back to look at the Waterfield home where I had spent such a happy childhood.

It was mid-afternoon and it was already getting dark, so I decided to stick to the main road until my eyes became accustomed.

It was years since I had seen a white Christmas, it was a shame I wasn’t in a better frame of mind to enjoy it.

Even in the semi darkness there was clear evidence the village children had been out in force, there was no sign of them as the light began to fail they were probably lured back indoors with mugs of hot chocolate by their concerned families.
As I made my way up the hill towards St Jane’s church the snow started to fall harder and I looked at the houses as I passed them with coloured lights resplendent and wondered at what sadness lurked in their homes and then I chastised myself for my self-pity.

It was just that I had had such high hopes for that Christmas, it had held so much promise.

 

I’d started a new job the previous February, I am an engineer by profession and as every other new hire I got the first day office tour, on this occasion conducted by my new boss Gary Ash.

After shaking hands with an indeterminate number of employees I began to understand what the Queen had to contend with.

“This is the procurement department” Gary said, and half a dozen heads turned around to greet us and one smartly dressed young woman stepped out of a corner office.

“Ah Gina” Gary called “This is Nick Waterfield the new head of Engineering”

Gina reached out her hand and I took it

“Gina Davies” she said and that was that, she had me hook line and sinker, we had our first date that Friday and we were married just after Easter.

It was a whirlwind romance and we had our whole lives ahead of us and we made plans upon plans.

Of course what we never planned for was a drunk driver to cross the central reservation and hit her head on as she drove home the day before Halloween.

I should have been with her, we always drove home together but at the last minute I had to go to Aberdeen so she died alone.

I wished I’d been in the car with her, I wished I’d died with her then I wouldn’t have to feel so shit.

 

The snow was falling fast, and the wind was blowing it straight at me so discretion being the better part of valour, I decided to take refuge in the Church of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal.

I hadn’t set foot in a church since the funeral, God and I had not been on speaking terms since he took Gina, but I didn’t plan to go in I just intended taking shelter in the porch until the snow eased off a bit, but to my surprise the door suddenly opened.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” said a voice behind me

I turned around to see it was Charli Newcombe, I had known Charli a long time, we had gone to school together and we had even dated briefly on two separate occasions, once when we were still at school and again when I returned from University, but it never seemed to happen for us.

“Hey Charli” I said, “I was just out for a walk”
“In this?” she said

“I know it’s not clever” I confessed

“So, what are you really doing out here?” she pressed
“Trivial Pursuits” I replied

“What?”

“The family are all playing Trivial Pursuits, I didn’t really fancy it”

“I see”

“Anyway, it’s Christmas Day” I retorted “Shouldn't you be at home watching The Sound of Music?”

“You’d think so wouldn’t you, but no, my folks are both asleep in front of the TV and I had sole control of the remote, and I suddenly got the notion I should come and get the church ready for tomorrows service” she explained and even she seemed surprised by her answer.

Apart from running the general store and post office Charli was also the church warden and her late husband Tony had been the Vicar.

Charli was the same age as me, give or take a month or two, I was thirty and she was a month short of that milestone, and like me she was born and bred in the village.

She had married Tony shortly after he got the job as Vicar he was quite a few years older than her but she loved him to distraction, and you can’t argue with love.

Charli was devastated when he had a heart attack in the church and died, that was shortly after he had performed the wedding ceremony for Gina and I.  

I had seen a lot of her since I came back to stay with my parents in the village, I suppose I sought her out because of our history together and I knew she would understand how it felt to lose someone, and maybe help me come to terms with the grief.

We had talked it through endlessly and had burnt the midnight oil many times, and during the process, some of the old feelings I had for her had come to the surface, for which I felt immensely guilty and disloyal to Gina’s memory.

“You look like you could do with a hot drink,” she said opening the door
“No I won’t come in thanks” I said
“It’s Christmas, you could call a truce for the sake of the day at least”
“Ok” I relented and hesitantly followed her into the church and the  most overwhelming feeling washed over me.

It was one of great happiness as I remembered that wonderful day when Gina and I were married.

I would have expected to feel intense sorrow at the memory but it was pure joy I felt and immense pride.
I took off my hat, scarf and gloves and I know it will sound silly but the moment I crossed the threshold into the sanctuary of the church I felt a great weight lift from me.

Charli had gone into a side room and switched on the light but I found I was walking down the aisle towards the altar where I paused briefly before an effigy of the saint and then sat down on the front pew.

 

When I got up from the front pew I found all the anger and resentment that had been consuming me had washed away and I felt more positive than I had in weeks and I even felt I could actually look forward.

I stood up and smiled at St Jane and went in search of the drink Charli had offered, and I found her in the little kitchen sat at a small table and she looked up at me and smiled and as I walked in I returned her smile.

“Is this mine?” I asked pointing at a mug by the kettle
“Yes” she replied “but I’ll make you a fresh one”

“No this will be fine” I said and took a sip “urgh”

“I told you” Charli said laughing

“How long was I sitting out there?” I asked her

She checked her watch

“About forty minutes”

“I’m sorry” I said “it only seemed like two or three”

“So how do you feel?” she enquired

“Surprisingly good” I replied and sat down “St Jane was very helpful”

“Yes, she is isn’t she” Charli said as she re-boiled the kettle

“I’m still angry that I didn’t get to say goodbye to Gina though” I admitted

“I know that feeling” Charli retorted

“We had such a short time together, we should have had decades, and instead we only had months”

And then I surprised myself when I smiled at her and added

“But those months were so special and so filled with joy that the time we had together was priceless”

“Amen to that” Charli said

“Which is precisely what you’ve been telling me all these weeks” I confessed

“Uh huh” she responded, and we sat and drank our coffee in a comfortable silence.

Charli’s flicked her eyes upwards and caused me to do the same and I saw the mistletoe hanging above the table then she leant across the table and kissed me.

After the kiss it was me who broke the silence

“So, do you have someone special in your life?”

“Do you mean a boyfriend?” she replied
“Yes” I said

“I was kind of hoping you might want the job” Charli said

“Funnily enough I think I would” I said and reached across the table and took hold of her hand.

“If you’ll have me”

She leant across the table and kissed me again this time it was a long lingering sensual kiss.

“Are we allowed to do that in church?” I asked
“Only on Christmas Day” she replied and kissed me again.

 

She locked up the Church and we stepped out from the shelter of the porch and the snow had abated but it was still falling and I smiled as it accumulated on top of her hat.

I offered her my hand which she accepted gladly and then I walked her home hand in hand through the snow.

 

Her parents’ house was only two doors down from mine so walking her home wasn’t out of the way not that it would have made any difference if she had lived on the other side of the village.

We stopped by the front gate and stood facing each other and I leant in and kissed her, her response was immediate and yielding.

It was a long purposeful kiss full of tenderness and hope for the future.

When I reluctantly broke away I said

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes” Charli replied and went up the path, pausing at the door to turn and wave before she went inside.

 

“Are you alright dear?” Mum asked with concern as I walked through the front door

“Yes” I said and smiled “I rather think I am”

And the effect on her was instant as the worry and anxiety melted away and she looked five years younger in an instant.

“I’m so glad” she said and rushed forward to hug me.

 

I have to admit I have given a good deal of reflective thought about exactly what happened that snowy Christmas Day afternoon.

Was it coincidence that I chose to walk in the direction of St Jane’s Church, or that I needed to take shelter precisely as I passed its sanctuary, or that Charli would open the door to leave just as I stood sheltering beneath the porch?

And what possessed her to leave the warmth and comfort of her parent’s cozy fireside on Christmas Day to tidy a cold and draughty Church.

I know what I believe and as to what transpired between me and the Saint as I sat on that Church pew is between me, St Jane and God.

Mornington-By-Mere – (06) The Perfect Recipe for Love

 

Lorraine Olson had lived in Mornington for two years, in the room above the restaurant at the Old Mill Inn.

Originally she was employed by landlady Helen Andrew as the sous chef but after only six months, Francois, the temperamental French chef, stormed out after a heated dispute with a customer who had had the audacity to criticize his sea bass.

He returned the next day in a much calmer frame of mind but landlord Peter Andrew wouldn’t have him back under any circumstances and Lorraine was made up to chef until they could find a suitable replacement for Francois.

However once Lorraine was given her chance she made the most of it and thrived in the role but after three months the Andrews were still looking for another Chef with similar experience to the Gallic Francois and weren’t quite ready to give her the reins permanently.  

Despite it only being temporary it was still a dream come true for Lorraine.

She had been fortunate in that as part of her job she also lived as part of the Andrews family.

Polly Andrew was the same age as she was and so they became like sisters and she thought her brother John, who was a couple of years her junior, fancied her.

But after two years she was ready to move on which meant if she couldn’t find somewhere to live in the village she would have to move to another restaurant as well.

But fortunately things were changing in the village, because the Mornington Estate had exercised its option to purchase Mornington Field back from the MOD and along with it they also acquired all the buildings and infrastructure on the airfield as well as 29 houses in the village formally used as quarters for military personnel.

Lyndon-Sanders Properties of Shallowfield had been instructed to find tenants for them but priority was to be given to local people or people with ties to the area or those who worked in some capacity for the estate such as agriculture or the brewery. 

So Lorraine applied for one of them, but she was told that she might not be successful, being a single woman and the new housing stock all being 3 and 4 bedroom homes.

But then she had some good fortune of a sort due to events that had occurred some distance away in Abbottsford.

 

The Olsen family were originally from Abbeyvale but Lorraine’s older sister Hannah moved to Abbottsford after she had married Mick Hill.

Mick however deserted his wife and family after the birth of their second child leaving huge debts behind him including 6 six months of mortgage arrears.

As a result Hannah lost her home and she and her children ended up living in a two bedroom flat in a dingy part of town.

However what was once dingy and undesirable was, after five years, suddenly up and coming, and so her landlord decided to sell out to a developer.

It just happened that her eviction notification came within a few days of Lorraine meeting with the agent about one of the newly acquired Mornington houses.  

 

So with her sister about to be made homeless it meant she could make a new application for herself, her sister Hannah and the children and this time they qualified for a 4 bedroom house.  

 

Lorraine got word from the agents that she was being given the tenancy of number 6 The Close on Friday September 26^th, the day before the wedding of Harry Topliss and Jenna Newman, which was the biggest wedding in Mornington for 30 years or more.

It was big for Lorraine as well because she was catering the wedding breakfast and the reception with the assistance of Jane Cooper and Emily Goff from Shallowfield, which meant that she and Hannah couldn’t move in until the following weekend.

 

But even when the weekend arrived Lorraine couldn’t take any time off because the restaurant still hadn’t replaced Francois and the other problem was that between her and her sister they had little or no furniture and number 6 the Close was unfurnished.

 

However help with that came problem came from an unusual quarter in the shape of Gabriel St George who was having lunch at the Old Mill Inn with his girlfriend Chantel.

“I’m sorry we’re having to push service back half an hour” Helen Andrew said when Gabriel and Chantel sat down

“That’s fine, we’re in no hurry are we?” he said and squeezed Chantel’s hand

“Absolutely not” she agreed

“Well thank you for that” Helen said  

“Is everything ok?” Gabriel asked

“Lorraine and her sister moved into the Close this morning” she explained “and she was a little late”

“Oh moving house is horrible” Chantel said “Not that little lord Fauntleroy here would know anything about that”

When they had both finished laughing at Gabriel’s expense Helen went on to explained that the sisters had no furniture and that they would be sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags.

“Oh I think we might be able to do better than that for them” he said

 

After lunch Gabriel phoned his friend Jonathon Springthorpe who lived in the village at The Old Forge but despite the fact it was a Saturday he was in the office at O’Sullivan and Springthorpe Auctioneers in Shallowfield.

Apart from their normal business as one of the premier Auctioneers in Downshire, the firm were also required rather more often than they liked to do house clearances.

On many occasions they would turn up a few choice pieces to at least cover the cost of the clearance but that still meant there was a lot of serviceable items that weren’t worth auctioning but still had value.

Apart from the Auction House they also owned and operated second hand shops across the county but even they couldn’t sell all the goods they had amassed which had to be warehoused.

And of course among the warehouse full of unsold goods was furniture of every conceivable colour and style.

“O’Sullivan and Springthorpe” a female voice said

“Jonathon Springthorpe please”

“May I say who is calling?” she asked officiously

“Baron St George”

“I’ll connect you immediately” she said

“You never use your title” Chantel said quietly

“I do sometimes with particularly officious receptionists” he said

“You’re terrible” she said “I’m shocked”

“Well when we’re married you’ll be able to call yourself Baroness”

“Well I won’t,” she began “What do you mean when we’re married?”

“Oh didn’t I mention it?”

“Hello Gabriel” Jonathon said “What can I do for you?”

“Hi Jon, I’m looking to relieve you of some stock”

He then proceeded to detail what he was looking for from a hand written list Chantel had prepared and the address it needed to be delivered to and then he disconnected.

“Well that’s sor…” he began but was prevented from finishing his sentence by Chantel wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his mouth, and this was not done in appreciation of his generosity.

 

Gabriel St George put his head around the kitchen door and spoke to Lorraine

“Lorraine I must apologize” he said “the furniture should have been delivered yesterday”

“What furniture?”

“Well you’re renting number 6 the Close” he said

“Which is supposed to be furnished”

“Is it?” Lorraine asked

“Yes” he said “and it will be delivered this afternoon between 3 and 4”

After he had convinced Lorraine that it was a clerical error that it didn’t mention “furnished” in her tenancy agreement he and Chantel went back to the Manor to tell the family that they were engaged.

 

Lorraine wasn’t fooled for a moment by Gabriel St George’s performance but she was very grateful to him so she played along.

Almost the moment the kitchen door closed she was on the phone to Hannah to warn her of the impending delivery.

 

It wasn’t until 4.30 in the afternoon that she managed to slip off her whites and hang them up.

Once she had, Lorraine took the green bandana from her head and let her carrot coloured hair cascade onto her shoulders before she went over to the house.

 

When she arrived the shutter was just being pulled down on the O’Sullivan and Springthorpes truck and she could see Hannah stood on the doorstep.

It was obvious from a thousand yards that they were kin, both of them possessed of freckled cheeks and open smiling faces and the flaming red hair.

The only difference between them was that of stature, Lorraine was tall and slim while Hannah was shorter with a fuller figure but then she had given birth to two children, 7 year old Nick and Joe 5, and they too had the carrot coloured hair.

As she got closer Hannah ran to meet her she said

“You should see what they sent us Loz”

“Well show me then” she replied

 

They settled in to The Close quickly and with the children enrolled at school Hannah worked hard making the house a home but Lorraine was still bearing all of the burden at the Old Mill Inn because try as they may finding a replacement Chef to come to Mornington was proving difficult.

The restaurant was closed on Monday’s and apart from that one day a week she hadn’t had any time off since Francois flounced out in a Gallic huff.

She had no time for a social life, no time to spend helping Hannah around the house and there’s wasn’t a second to spare for a love life.

And as she was running the kitchen virtually on her own from prep to clean down, she was completely frazzled, and noticeably so.

 

Helen Andrew could see that Lorraine was being pushed too far, and even with Helen her husband and the children mucking in when the need arose Lorraine was still near breaking point.

Helen knew that things were only going to get busier as they counted down the weeks to Christmas and she realized that if they didn’t do something soon they would need to find two new chefs in the New Year.

So on Halloween she took decisive action.

 

Halloween was one of the few nights of the year apart from Mondays when the restaurant was closed to diners, instead they did the hot dogs and burgers for the Halloween party at the village hall and for Lorraine it was like having a holiday.

And it was at the end of the evening when Lorraine, Helen and Polly were packing up that Helen said her piece.

“You know that we think you’ve done a brilliant job Lorraine”

“But you’re going to go back to being the sous chef and take orders from some arrogant French ponce”

That was how Lorraine imagined the conversation going.

“But…” Helen continued

“Here we go” Lorraine said in her head,

“You can’t go on the way you are, you need help”

“That’s not what I was expecting” she continued in her head “I expected better”

“We want you to take the Chefs job” Helen said

“Me?” she asked

“You’ve been doing it for weeks and the number of covers is up” she went on

“Me?” she repeated

“Unless you don’t want it” Helen said

“Yes” she snapped “I do”

“But…” Helen began

“Why was there always a “but”?” Lorraine asked herself

“It’s going to get busier, Helen continued “we’re already taking bookings for Christmas and some days are fully booked already so you do need help”

“A sous chef” she was going to suggest but then she had a thought.

When she had catered Harry and Jenna’s wedding she had some help, one of whom was Emily Goff, as her sous chefs and when they were chatting Emily told her that there were two girls living in the village who were on the same catering course as her and they were both very capable.

Now ideally she would have liked Emily to work with her but she was already kept very busy by Jane Cooper, the Chef at the Brown Windsor in Shallowfield.

So she would have to settle for one of the two young girls but even that would be a very big help.

And as it turned out the girls lived in The Close, either side of Lorraine, Tegan Crockford was at number 5 and Cally Wilson at number 7.

And having chatted with her new neighbours during the course of October she knew that the girls still hadn’t found anything permanent.

So she made the suggestion to Helen and she agreed to interview them.

“No promises mind” Helen said

 

Three days later the two girls sat quietly together in the bar of the Old Mill Inn.

It was a strange feeling for them as they were actually best friends.

They had even walked to the interview together, it hadn’t seemed to dawn on either of them that they were rivals.

Maybe they knew something no one else did.

Cally was the older of the two by about two weeks and she was significantly larger, not fat but very definitely cast from a bigger mold.

She stood six feet tall with short curly auburn hair, and a very large bust.

Tegan on the other hand was a foot shorter and at least six stones lighter.

She was small with delicate features and bobbed strawberry blonde hair.

And was small enough to shelter beneath the bust of her friend if it rained.

The anomaly with the pair wasn’t their physical appearance it was their personalities.

The giant Cally was quiet and reserved while tiny Tegan was feisty and forthright.

 

Tegan was called first and was on her feet immediately but Cally grabbed her hand and said

“Good luck”

And she meant it too even though getting a job in a restaurant kitchen was her dream and doing it in her own village would have been perfect.

Because Cally’s mum had MS and everyone in the family had to do their bit.

 

Tegan was only gone for about 15 minutes and when she came out Cally asked

“How did it go?”

“I’m not sure” the normally ultra-confident Tegan replied “But they said to wait”

That reply didn’t fill Cally with an ounce of confidence but then she was called and this time Tegan squeezed her hand.

 

Cally was also only gone for 15 minutes and she too was told to wait and then after about 10 minutes Helen and Lorraine both walked into the bar to where the girls were sitting and sat opposite them.

“Well we have made our decision and we thought it was only fair to tell you immediately, rather than keep you waiting” Helen said

“We have decided to offer you the position of trainee chef”

The two girls looked at each other and then at Helen and then and Lorraine who was grinning.

“Which one of us?” they said in unison

“Both of you” Lorraine said and the two friends hugged each other and just at that moment the landlord Peter Andrew walked in to the bar with his son John close behind and said

“What’s going on here then?”

“We have just offered Cally and Tegan the trainee chef positions” Helen said

Introductions followed and then John shouted down the bar to his sister Polly

“Here Poll, come and see Lorraine’s started her own Ginger coven”

Tegan turned and gave him a look and said
"I’m actually a strawberry blonde"
"And I’m auburn" Cally said
“and I” Lorraine began, but then paused

“Ok I am actually ginger” and everyone laughed

The two newbies started work two days later which was a Monday so the restaurant was closed and she could see what they could do.

Lorraine had to forgo her only day off but she thought it would be worth it in the long run.

 

Almost immediately the three of them gelled and worked extremely well together and with having the extra pairs of hands to do the prep it meant Lorraine could try out new dishes to add to the menu and almost from day one Lorraine was visibly more relaxed as the two trainees proved to be every bit as good as Emily Goff had indicated.

 

The three girls soon settled into a comfortable routine, Cally came in later in the mornings than the other two because she had to help her mum get ready for the day but then she made up the time in the afternoon while the other two took a couple of hours off.

The newbies were both very different characters, Cally was steady and dependable, precise in her application and never strayed from the task.

Tegan on the other hand was a bit more adventurous in the kitchen as well as in life.

But there was one thing they had in common and that was that they were totally reliable.

 

Cally Wilson was a “steady Eddie” who had commitments so she couldn’t put in any extra hours but every minute she was in the kitchen she made every second count.

Tegan Crockford was a bit of a firecracker and loved the banter with the pub staff but she was also an eager beaver and ambitious and she wanted to absorb as much as possible, Lorraine didn’t doubt for a second that she would have her own kitchen one day,

Cally wasn’t ambitious but because of her work ethic she would never have a problem getting work.

 

As November drifted seamlessly into December the girls all new things were going to get really busy.

Apart from being fully booked in the evenings there was also a full calendar of seasonal lunches so as Christmas approached Lorraine was leaning more heavily than ever on Cally and Tegan, particularly the latter because they had a lot more prep to do after service was finished and there were a number of early starts which Cally couldn’t participate in because of her mum.

 

As they worked diligently through the tasks Lorraine had become quite close to Tegan and was growing increasingly fond of her, it was so nice to work with someone she liked, not that she didn’t like Cally but Tegan had become a friend as well.

As the weeks slipped by Lorraine found herself really looking forward to her four days off, the first proper break she’d had since Easter.

The restaurant would close on the afternoon of Christmas Eve and would not reopen fully until the following Tuesday.

On Christmas day the pub was closed, on Boxing Day the pub was open but the restaurant wasn’t and on Saturday and Sunday there would only be bar food, hot and cold sandwiches and such, so Lorraine was leaving the girls in charge while she, Hannah and the children were off to Abbeyvale to spend Christmas with their mum, Irene.

It was the first time in four years they would all be together.

Lorraine and Hannah had been prevented by their abusive stepfather from contacting her, but Irene had finally had enough after 9 years of being used as a punch bag and hit him in the face with an iron and broke his jaw.

Lorraine was so looking forward to spending time with her mum, and having a family Christmas all under one roof, but most of all she was looking forward to no cooking, but she would however miss the strawberry haired slip of mischief Tegan and her sparky presence.

 

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve the pub was still open but there weren’t many customers left but those that were made enough noise for a crowd.

The kitchen was cleaned down and pristine and Cally had just finished putting the clean cutlery back in the trays in the dining room.

“Anything else you want me to do?” she asked Lorraine

“No you get off home now” she replied and gave her a hug and kiss “Happy Christmas lovely”

“Happy Christmas” she said in response and Lorraine went back into the kitchen.

Tegan was stood up on a chair writing up Saturday’s menu.

“Oy what about me you ginger bint” she shouted

“I’m auburn” she shouted back and went over a picked Tegan off the chair and got her in a bear hug.

“I give in, I give in” she said laughing loudly

“Now give me a kiss” demanded Cally

After exchanging kisses Cally then deposited her back on the chair.

“Happy Christmas Cal” she called as her friend walked away

 

Lorraine came out of the kitchen and Tegan was still stood on the chair in front of the menu board.

“Haven’t you finished that yet?” she said

“Just” she replied and crouched down ready to jump down

“Can you give me a hand” she asked

“Ok” Lorraine said and walked over to her

With Lorraine’s height and Tegan crouching they were roughly the same height and as she reached the little elf on the chair Tegan moved towards her and stole a long lingering kiss which lingered long because Lorraine reciprocated.

“Oh I didn’t even know that was on the menu” Lorraine said

“It’s a new addition” and kissed her again

“Is it a Christmas special or will I be able to have it anytime of the year?”

“Whenever you fancy it” Tegan replied and then Lorraine lifted her down to terra firma and kissed her again.

Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (78) It Happened One Christmas

 

Sharpington-by-Sea is a traditional seaside resort complete with a Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, the Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.

The Fun Park was the first purpose built amusement park to open in Britain, which had an assortment of rides, like the Rotor and the Wild Mouse, The Cyclone and the Morehouse Galloper, all very tame compared to 21^st century roller coasters, but still fun.

It was also a popular resort for retirees and boasted a number of static caravan parks and one of them was the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park which overlooked the town.   

 

Kirsty Wishaw was petite and had beautiful straw coloured hair and at 27 years old she worked as the manager of the onsite Stephenson’s general store.

Stephenson’s had supermarkets and convenience stores all over Downshire.

Kirsty was a resident of Sharpington and had worked at the shop since she was at school.

Of course she had help in the shop in the form of a small group of part timers whom she knew she could trust which she needed because she had other demands on her time, namely her terminally ill mother who she had to care for, so the last thing she needed was another distraction which on one day in the middle of October came in the form of Phil Spurgeon.

Her eyes were drawn to him the moment he entered the shop, he was tall and slim with thick brown curly hair just long enough to cover his collar, with brown eyes and a toothy smile which lit up the whole shop.

 

Phil was a couple of years older that Kirsty and he was a writer who lived in one of the caravans on the far side of the park.

He was in the shop for about ten minutes and she caught him sneaking a look in her direction but when he eventually went to the counter with a basket full of essentials she was serving someone else, which she later thought was for the best really, she didn’t have time for such distractions, even very good looking ones.

So she did her best to ignore him which was difficult because he was gorgeous but she convinced herself it really was for the best.

 

Phil would have heartily agreed with her, he was finding writing his novel difficult enough as it was without the added complication of losing his heart to the lovely girl with the corn coloured hair.

He was an accountant by profession but after his marriage ended he decided he was going to give up his job and write a novel before life passed him by.

 

Phil’s neighbours up at Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park were the Taylor family, who unlike Phil had not chosen to be there because when they least expected it, life slapped them in the face and then it kicked them when they were on the ground.

The slap came when Michelle Taylor was diagnosed with breast cancer in January the previous year and needed surgery followed by chemo.
Her husband Martyn was a self-employed builder at the time with plenty of steady work and was able to increase his hours to cover for the shortfall.

Then came the first kick, at the end of February when Martyn was in a car crash and broke his leg.
In June there was another kick, when he needed surgery on his leg after he got an infection, but most painful kick came in October, when with bills going unpaid and Martyn still on crutches and Michelle unable to work for several months because of the surgery and two courses of chemo and with mounting debts and their savings long gone and no money for the mortgage they lost the house.

 

So in December Martyn Taylor, wife Michelle, 9 year old son Sam and seven year old twins Ben and Mark moved into a caravan at Whitecliffe and they had a bleak Christmas.

Over the following eleven months the Taylor's worked hard to rebuild their lives, Michelle was declared cancer free and returned to work, and got a job in Sharpington.
Martyn found another job, not as a builder and not bringing home as much money as before the accident but it was steady and seemed to be more secure.
The boys did their bit as well by washing cars, cleaning windows and doing odd jobs on the park.
So by December they had managed to pay off the remainder of their debts and even had a bit left over for Christmas.
They were doing so well that in another six months they would be able to think about moving back into a house but then on the 20th December life kicked them again.

 

It had been a bitterly cold weekend with an icy wind blowing off the sea, all of which made it a very uncomfortable experience to live in a caravan.

So the Taylors had to employ additional heaters to combat the cold but during the night one of the electric heater in lounge area burst into flames and the fire rapidly spread.

 

Fortunately for the Taylors, Phil Spurgeon had been to a Christmas party at his cousin’s flat in Jubilee Court which was just down the hill in Sharpington and thanks to an over indulgence of family hospitality he walked along the prom to clear his head before going home, otherwise the caravan would have started spinning the moment he lay down.

Subsequently he didn’t get back to the caravan until a little after 4am to find the Taylors caravan well ablaze.

His first action was to phone 999 and his second was to raise the alarm with the occupants and the neighbouring homes which could quite conceivably have caught fire as well.

 

“Fire! Fire!” he shouted and banged on all the windows in turn frantically trying to raise the occupants, when a face appeared at the window.

The fire had engulfed one end of the caravan and had made the doors inaccessible so the big window at the opposite end became the route to safety.   

The only problem was that the window only swung open about three inches before the catch was fully extended, so Phil had two choices, either smash the window or break the catch, so he looked around him to see if there was anything handy that might fit the bill, but he couldn’t see anything strong enough to break the glass or rigid enough to lever the catch, and then he spotted the rotary clothes dryer and quickly uprooted it from the metal socket in the ground and used it as a lever to break the lock and then propped it under the open window and a grateful and relieved Martyn Taylor started handing the kids out, and concerned neighbours whisked them away to safety just as wailing sirens could be heard in the distance, thankfully everyone was rescued safely but the Taylor's had lost everything.

 

Kirsty Wishaw walked up the hill from Sharpington just after six o’clock as she did every morning and she was normally the only soul heading through Jubilee Park at that time on a winter morning but she had seen several people that morning but she thought nothing of it nor did she give the acrid smell in the air a second thought it was only when she got into Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park that she noticed blue lights in the distance and her first thought was a break in at the shop so she quickened her stride.

She soon realised that the blue glow from the lights was nowhere near the shop so her curiosity got the better of her so she went to investigate.
Which was when she saw Phil Spurgeon sitting on the back of an ambulance with a blanket wrapped around him.

Her heart sank immediately and all the feelings she had for him that she had been trying to suppress burst free and she ran towards him

“Oh my God are you alright?” she blurted “What happened, are you injured?”

“I’m fine” he said and when he saw how concerned she was for him he knew his novel wasn’t so important, he wanted her to be a distraction, in fact he wanted her to distract his socks off.

“Are you sure?” she asked with real concern

“Yes he’s good to go” Paramedic Andy Mason confirmed and slapped him on the back in fact over the next ten minutes a lot of people patted him on the back as they ambled along towards the scene of the fire, including several firemen.

 

The Taylor’s Caravan had completely gone but the homes either side were relatively unscathed, a bit black and sooty but nothing major, Phil couldn’t get back in his at that stage because the Firefighters wanted to make sure there was no damaged to the gas fittings.

As they stood looking at the mess Kirsty shivered and in response Phil put his arm around her and she liked how it felt, and a few minutes later they were joined by another resident Ken Baily 

“Well done Phil” he said and shook his hand

“Well done for what?” she asked “Why does everyone keep patting you on the back?”

“Didn’t you tell her?” Ken asked him and Phil shook his head

“Young Phil hear raised the alarm and got everyone out”

“Really?” she asked “Why didn’t you say something?”

He didn’t reply but then it was a rhetorical question really, she knew the answer, he was just that type of person who acts without thinking and doesn’t believe he’s done anything special because he thinks he has merely done what any other human being would have done.

He was just thankful that everyone got out safely but he was desperately sad because the Taylor's had lost everything.

Being their neighbour he knew how hard they had worked to get back on their feet after having such torrid times and as they watched one firefighter raking through the ashes while another doused the embers it was truly evident that they had lost absolutely everything to the fire, smoke and water, including all the children’s clothes and the Christmas presents.
All that remained amidst the ashes were a few scraps of melted toys, half-burned books and scorched and tattered clothing.
“How cruel” Phil said

 

All that remained amidst the ashes were a few scraps of melted toys, half-burned books and scorched and tattered clothing.
“How cruel” Phil said

“What do you mean” Ken asked

“I just think it’s cruel for a family who had worked so hard to be dealt such a blow” Phil said.
“This would be bad enough to endure at any time but just before Christmas just compounds the cruelty”

“Well I for one will not be standing for it” Kirsty said resolutely “Come on”

“Where are we going?” he asked as she took hold of Phil’s hand and led him away but she didn’t reply because she had turned her attention to her mobile phone.

 

Kirsty took him with her to the shop, she didn’t know what use he would be but as she had allowed her feelings free rein in his regard she wasn’t letting him go. 

She opened the shop and put him to work making a hot drink while she opened the shop.

Once the drinks were made she settled him in her office, which was actually just a common room, where he sat in the easy chair in the corner and was instantly overcome be fatigue and fell asleep, so Kirsty put her coat over him and got on with the task in hand.

When she was on her mobile she was calling for reinforcements in the shape of two of her part timers, firstly because she knew it was going to be a busy day in the shop and secondly because she had a lot of phone calls to make.

 

One call was to a close friend of her late father, Bob Philips, who was a freelance journalist who worked predominantly for the Abbottsford Chronicle but he also had a well-read blog.

He was a heavy smoking, hard drinking down to earth man in his early fifties with a long suffering wife, Toni, who managed to bring up their three children virtually single handed and “what you see is what you get” summed him up as good as anything.

Despite all his faults though it was very difficult not to like him even if he could drive you to despair.

Bob was a chain smoker who on more than one occasion had almost set his car alight and apart from the smoking he was also a very heavy drinker.

He was often heard to say he had driven home because he was too drunk to walk, though in truth his friends never gave him the opportunity to be so rash.

Another of his well-worn sayings was that if he read about the evils of drinking he would give up reading.
His main diet was fast food and bar snacks in fact he thought that the three basic food groups were caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol.

His personal faults aside however, what was undoubtable was that he was a good writer even if he may have spent more time socializing than he should have done.

He was also a more intelligent man than he would have people believe, because he found that if people thought him an idiot they were more likely to open up than if they thought they were dealing with somebody who was more switched on.

His wife, Toni, had long ago given up on the chance of Bob writing “the Great Novel” that he spoke of in his youth.

Bob’s favorite quote was “Literature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism something that will be grasped at once”.

The second call that Kirsty made was to Melville’s Holidays who had almost two dozen empty holiday caravans on the site and persuaded her old school friend Natalie Melville that it would be a very effective PR exercise to let the family use one of them for the Christmas period.

“Ok stop” Natalie said “You had me at “melted snow” and “smouldering wrapping paper”

I’ll check with maintenance which ones are ready to use and drop a key off to you this afternoon”

“Thanks Nat”

 

The third call was to another old friend, Jenny Rawlings, who she knew would get the word around, after all the three best forms of communication were Television, Telephone and tell Jen.

And her final call was to Richard Stephenson at the company headquarters to get his permission to donate some food from the shop and she was very persuasive and took her less than ten minutes to get him to agree, so by the time Phil awoke from his surprisingly comfortable sleep in her “office” everything was arranged.

 

Natalie was good to her word and duly arrived at Whitecliff Hill just after 2 pm and gave Martyn and Michelle the key to one of the Melville holiday caravans on the park which they were welcome to use until the end of March, free of charge, which would give them time to get back on their feet.

The Taylors were overcome by Melville's generosity but that was only the beginning because Jenny had done her part and put the word around and in the space of a day-and-a-half, friends, family and strangers helped the family.

They brought clothing, footwear, bedding, crockery, cutlery, towels and all of the basics as well as a Christmas Tree and decorations.

 

Phil just stood open mouthed and looked on and when he could speak he asked

“When did you arrange all of this?”

“When you were asleep” she replied

“Really?” Phil said in amazement “You’ve worked wonders, you are a force of nature”

“Not really, I figured out what was wanted and made a few phone calls and ask nicely”

“And what do you do when there is something that you want?” he asked

“I ask nicely” she said slipping her hand in his “and hold his hand”

 

So due to the generosity of friends and strangers alike the Taylor's were able to enjoy their Christmas after all and look forward to a hopeful New Year just five days after they thought their Christmas dreams had gone up in smoke.
This heart-warming story just goes to prove without any shadow of doubt that the Christmas spirit truly dwells within the hearts of mankind.

And because of Kirsty’s generosity of heart and Phil’s heroism they decided that love wasn’t a distraction after all.

 

But Kirsty and Phil’s involvement with the Taylor’s Christmas continued right up until Christmas Eve, where after having spent much of Christmas Eve in each other’s arms, crept through the darkness, and left a Christmas sack on their doorstep.

So come Christmas Day the Taylor boys had more presents to open, toys, games, a Scalextric set, puzzles, footballs and signed football shirts for their favourite football team the Abbottsford Knights while Phil and Kirsty spent Christmas Day with her mum for what was to be their first and her mums last.

CHRISTMAS ESSENCE

 

You are my Christmas essence

My yuletide effervescence

You breathe life into me

Oh how you appeal to me

Dressed in your Christmas tights

And the Santa sweater that fits just right

Oh you naughty little Christmas flirt

Wearing your short red Christmas skirt

You are the spirit of my season

You are the rhyme and the reason

But as you spread your Christmas joy

Pleasing every girl and boy

There is something you don’t know

I feel stirrings down below

Because when your sleigh bells jingle

It makes all my senses tingle

Because you so excite me

How I want you to delight me

You are my Christmas dish

You are my every Christmas wish

Every year I make this plea

To let me unwrap you beneath the tree

But again you are not among my presents

But you will remain my Christmas essence

CHRISTMAS DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE

 

There will be no wreath on the door

Not a single decoration will be seen

Cards will be recycled unopened

Christmas doesn’t live here anymore

 

There will be no gifts beneath the tree

There will be no turkey with all the trimmings

There will be no festive merriment

Christmas doesn’t live here anymore

 

There will be no season’s greetings

There will be no Christmas joy

There will be no festive spirit

Christmas doesn’t live here anymore

 

This Christmas day will be like any other day

A day full of abject loneliness

For since my darling joined the angels

Christmas doesn’t live here anymore

Uncanny Christmas Tales – (010) A Christmas Affair

 

My cab arrived back at the Carlton Hotel just as the snow began to fall again, I paid the driver and Danny and I walked into the lobby of the airport Hotel.

It had been a nice evening out, a lovely meal and good company, there were forty of us at the restaurant, colleagues from all over Europe, some of them close friends and some of them more so.

“Night cap?” I asked

“No thanks’ mate I’m on the red eye in the morning” Danny replied.

I looked at my watch and saw it was already morning.

“I’ll say goodnight then” I said and we shook hands and Danny headed for the desk.

I was definitely up for one more drink, so I headed for the bar, there were only a handful of people in there at that hour and as I caught the night porter’s eye.

“Jameson’s” I said “a large one”

“Make that two” She said from behind me

I recognised the voice and said to the barman “Two”

I turned around and looked at the woman who had been the object of my lust for nine months and an unrequited love for three of those.

Gail Nichols was my older woman, my cougar if you like, she was four years the wrong side of fifty but still beautiful in my eyes even though I was nineteen years younger.

Gail and I had shared an office for over a year, and at first I loathed her, I thought she was vain, overbearing and manipulative, and her opinion of me was much the same.

However, as the weeks changed into months my feelings for her changed with them.

Gail had an English father and a Burmese mother, which left her with brown skin and western features, an exotic looking beauty with jet black hair and large brown eyes.

She was tall, slender and very well endowed, and with legs to die for.

I would surreptitiously watch her move around the office on her shapely legs admiring the tightness of her skirt around her hips and buttocks as she bent, and when she was sat at her desk my eyes would stray to her gaping blouse and the treasures contained within.

However it wasn’t until a grey overcast day in June, on an office beano to Epsom Derby that we showed each other in no uncertain terms how we felt.

It happened as the Derby favourites thundered towards the finish line when Gail and I, away from prying eyes, kissed for the first time, and as we kissed I unzipped her leather jacket and slipped by hands inside her shirt to caress her naked skin.

Over the weeks that followed, so did more sensually intimate moments, but they were only tasters of what the two of us really desired.

 

We had tried on several occasions to engineer an opportunity to take our burgeoning relationship to the next level.

One such chance was a three day trip to visit suppliers, which we got rubber stamped by management and booked appointments and Hotels and we were feeling very pleased with ourselves for our lustful scheming, however an unseen hand dealt us a blow when Gail went down with laryngitis.

Afterwards we tried to just arrange a simple dirty weekend away, Brighton, Bognor, Blackpool and other places that didn’t even begin with the letter B.

We even devised an intricate scenario for the benefit of Gail’s husband, which he swallowed hook line and sinker but then that failed at the eleventh hour when I broke my wrist.

 

 

We decided we should have one last role of the dice, which was at the Christmas Party weekend in Dublin, where we planned to finally consummate our lust.

We had been out to a restaurant in Swords called The Old School House and had spent the evening sitting at the same table for the dinner, discreetly holding hands under the table, but as we left at the end of the evening we got separated and ended up in different cabs so I thought fate had interceded once again and our chance had gone.

I blamed fate because although I was single at the time, Gail was a married woman, which meant there was some guilt involved, even if her husband Peter was a complete waste of space.

However despite any perceived guilt I was delighted to find Gail was waiting for me in the bar when I got back to the Hotel, I hadn’t taken into account that she would want it as bad as I did.

 

We sat in the corner of the bar and finished our drink.

“Another?” I asked

“I don’t think so” Gail said and stood up, took my hand and dragged me to my feet.

We walked arm in arm to the desk and collected our keys and with keys in hand Gail hurried me along the corridor until we reached her room where we stood in the corridor and kissed.

At first it was the usual semi controlled kissing we had done so many times before but it quickly became hot and passionate as my hand sought out her breast.

She broke away and opened the door.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked

“God yes” she replied and pulled me into the room.

Once inside the room I was eager to get started again and immediately tried to get inside her clothes.

Gail however put a stop to things and said

“Not so fast, I want everything to be just so”

“Sorry” I responded not quite sure what “just so” was, but I needn’t have worried it seemed that she wanted to, amongst other things get the lighting right.

She was conscious of the age difference and didn’t want me to be disappointed with what she had to offer, because as a much younger man I would have been more used to firmer flesh.

She needn’t have worried.

While she set the scene I was sent into the bathroom and as I was in there I thought it prudent to relieve myself while I had the opportunity.

However such a natural function, normally simply rendered is greatly complicated when you are seriously aroused, and it necessitates adopting the posture of a ski jumper and even then it’s not always successful.

When I left the bathroom I found the room lighting very subdued and Gail wearing only a smile and a pair of White lace knickers showing in stark contrast to the gorgeous brown flesh.

“Are you disappointed?” She asked

“You’re even more gorgeous than I had hoped” I replied

“Good answer” she said,

From the first moment I emerged from the bathroom she had one arm draped across her breasts but as she walked towards me she slowly lowered her arm and at the last second I got my first long lingering look at her large round breast that I had only previously dreamed of, topped with glorious chocolate coloured nipples, and then she was in my arms and began undressing me.

 

As we lay entwined in the afterglow, still breathing hard from our exertions, Gail rested her head on my chest and sighed as I reflected that making love with her was everything I had hoped it would be and more and then we drifted into a sweet post coital sleep.

After a short sleep I was awoken by Gail tenderly kissing my neck as her hand strove to awaken the rest of me, and when all of me was fully awake we made love again.

The next day when the rest of our colleagues returned to their home countries Gail and I put into effect our plan to stay on for another night and repeated the joyful pleasure of each other again and again.

I would have gladly continued our unions well into the New Year but alas after the protracted Christmas break Gail took me to one side and to my great surprise ended the affair.

“But I love you” I said

“And I love you” Gail concurred

“Then why?” I asked

“It has to end, not because I don’t love you” she said “But because despite everything I love my husband”