The first time I met
My
pretty little Miss
We
needed mistletoe
To
share a Christmas Kiss
Now
when I meet
With
my pretty Miss
We
need no artificial aid
For
us to share a kiss
And
when we meet
And
we share a kiss
Every
day is Christmas
For
me and my little Miss
When Keith Fulbrook was growing up Christmas was a very special time for him and every year the season evoked so many memories and many of those memories were of the times he spent at his grandparent’s farm in Shallowfield.
A row of
wellington boots standing on the flagstones, fresh from hours of play in the
snow and dripping wet mittens drying on a string behind the tortoise stove
in the kitchen, the smell of burning logs and damp wool invading the nostrils,
soon to be replaced by the scent of a fresh cut fir tree in the living room
filling the air with the aroma of Christmas joining the smells of nutmeg and
ginger coming from the pantry.
He just had to smell pipe smoke and he was back with his
grandpa with his twinkling blue eyes and wry smile as he puffed out a dense
cloud of aromatic smoke from his meerschaum pipe.
But it wasn’t just smells, the house was
always alive with the ringing sounds of boisterous laughter of ten
grandchildren of varying ages filling the house.
And when the
house wasn’t resounding with laughter it was music as the family gatherings
always prompted renditions of the carols and songs of Christmas played on
guitar and fiddle and sung with gusto.
But that wasn’t the only Christmas music he remembered there was also the sweet
sounds of a choir at the candlelit midnight mass.
But
candlelight was eclipsed by the sparkle and twinkle of the fairy lights
reflected on the fragile glass ornaments and heirloom decorations that
magically transformed his grandparent’s living room into his childish vision of
a magic wonderland.
And then
there were the tastes candy canes and chocolates from the tree, satsumas and
nuts in their stockings, sugar almonds, jellied fruits, dates, liquorice, and
mints.
Turkey and
all the trimmings, Gammon, Christmas pudding, brandy butter, mince pies,
shortbread, pies, tarts, fruit cakes, sausage rolls.
But all the
bounty of the table was far outweighed by the abundance of love which was
linked to every single memory.
But his
favourite Christmas memory came when the winter delivered up the perfect
Christmas gift, snow.
When Keith
went to bed the wind howling through the trees gave no clue that it was
carrying Jack Frost to the Vale but the next morning when he woke up to the
sound of excited squeals and when he looked outside he gazed out at the whitened
landscape and ten minutes later all the grandchildren dashed out into the white
magical world, screaming and shouting like released convicts rejoicing in a
new-found freedom.
The warm knitted gloves were soon abandoned as snowballs
were hurled in all directions.
Shrieks filled the winter air as aims improved and
increasing numbers found their mark.
As the battle ground expanded they joined forces with a
group of village children and that was the moment he first saw Yvonne Sage and he
discovered there was something even more exciting than a white Christmas.
Yvonne was the same age as him, give or take, and she was
tall for a fourteen year old girl, lean and wiry with braided brown hair and a
bit of a tomboy but he was smitten.
But he had never noticed a girl before so he didn’t
really know what to do about his infatuation.
But because she chose to join a group building a snowman
so did he.
Rudolf, their giant snowman, gradually took shape on the
village green.
A red tartan scarf was draped around his broad shoulders
and a boy produced an old battered black hat, which was accidently set at a
jaunty angle on his huge head which gave him a rakish look.
Two un-sucked gobstoppers provided him with staring blue
eyes.
Keith and Yvonne held the ends of a length of old rope
which they tied around Rudolph’s substantial waist, some pebbles substituted for
buttons, a carrot nose and a stick mouth completed the magnificent figure.
And then they stood back to admire their handiwork.
Despite being pleased with the finished
article Keith panicked because he didn’t know what to do next if Yvonne
suddenly went off with her friends.
But then Tom
and Lindsay Collingwood suggested going up to Coopers Hill for a bit of
sledding.
“Yeh count
me in” Yvonne said “What about you Keith?”
Keith was so
releived that he didn’t know what to say so he just nodded his agreement and
she smiled because she really liked him and she wanted him to go with her.
And so they
walked up to Coopers Hill together and the fact that they didn’t have a sled or
a toboggan didn’t seem to faze them at all, so on the way there they collected
some cardboard boxes from outside Stephenson Supermarket and shared a sheet of
cardboard and used it to ride down the hill, screaming at every bump, and when
they got to the bottom Tomboy Yvonne had a boyfriend.
Although they
didn’t realise it at the time they were victims of love at first sight and it
was a love that lasted a life time.
Mornington-By-Mere is a small country village lying in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate
box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a
Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
But Mornington-By-Mere
is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is the beating heart of
the Finchbottom Vale and there were a
number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane
which formed the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and Mariana
Harding was staying at number 1 Dulcet Mill Lane in the house she was raised
in, along with her brother George, by their
Aunt Julia.
She was a well-travelled woman in her mid-thirties who hadn’t put down
roots anywhere but she had made lots of friends which became problematic at Christmas
time when it came to sending Christmas cards because a considerable amount of strategic planning was
required to ensure that maximum effect was gained from sending Christmas cards,
because, design, timing, size and quality are of paramount importance.
There are
all kinds of do’s and don’ts, one of them is sending Christmas cards too early,
which is not only ineffective but can be humiliating for the sender because it
is very revealing, by disclosing the size and quality of card, it exposes the
sender to the possibility of a devastating counter-attack.
On the other
hand, a very late Christmas card runs the risk of negating the recipient's
ability to respond, and reduces one's total card count, and it can look like an
afterthought.
Mariana
thought it was better to be on the early, rather than late side, because the
pre-emptive Christmas card sets the pace and compels the opposition to reply.
And it is a
brave opponent who will respond with either a lesser card or better than card.
The second
thing she considered was the value and size of cards. Important people,
certainly people who think they are important, send big and important looking
Christmas cards which was designed to make the recipient feel small.
It was a
costly option but she thought it was worth it.
She didn’t
consider herself a snob though and she thought there was definitely a place for
cheap and nasty Christmas cards.
They could
be used for a variety of reasons they didn’t just imply bad taste or poverty,
they could be used to disrespect the recipient, and possibly lead to deletion
from their Christmas card list.
She found
cheap cards were particularly useful for terminating pointless Christmas card
exchanges with people she met on holiday or business trips when she foolishly
exchanged addresses on drunken night’s outs.
She tried to
avoid First-time Christmas cards sent on impulse to recent acquaintances
because they can have devastating consequences or disappointments.
But she
didn’t follow her own protocols so when she was in Denver for a conference at
the end of November and she met a man called Seelie Dawson, with whom she let
her guard down, and one night after dinner, when alcohol had been taken, she
gave him her address and phone number.
Following
that breach she was overcome with regrets, firstly for the breach, second for
not getting his details, thirdly for not giving him her email and finally for
losing her phone on the journey home.
And ever
since she got back to Mornington she had thought of nothing else but him and
had abandoned her long standing and well-honed system and sent no cards at all
and occupied her time examining the abundance of cards that arrived through her
door every day hoping there would be one from him and each day she was
disappointed.
But she
never gave up hope and then on Christmas Eve she perused the pile of mail on
the door mat once again and on that day with wonder in her eyes she received a
Christmas card and the postmark was from Colorado, and she only knew one person
there.
Her hand was
shaking while she opened the envelope and withdrew the card, but before reading
it she looked inside the envelope and saw a photo and it was a picture of her
and Seelie, together and smiling, which recalled the evening to her mind with
perfect clarity.
She turned
her attention to the card, but she closed her eyes and took a breath before
opening it, but when she did she read.
Mariana
I hope you liked the photo, it was a very memorable
evening.
I have tried several times to phone you on the mobile
number you gave me.
I am going to be in England for the New Year, I would
very much like to see you while I’m there, perhaps we could have dinner.
I’ve written my contact details on the back of the
photo.
I look forward to hearing from you, and I hope very
much that we can get together in the New Year.
Have a Happy Christmas
Seelie x
She flipped
the photo over and saw the full gamut of details and her joy could not be
contained so it was twenty minutes before she had calmed down enough for her
start using them.
Despite the
fact she didn’t send a single Christmas card that year she had her best
Christmas in a decade and a very Happy New Year.
The wondrous beauty
Of
your pale white skin,
That
seductive landscape
Pure
as exotic silk
Fresh
as winter snow
And
as cold as your heart
It was the office Christmas party
Where I met
my girl Lottie
I felt
really out of place
Every girl
there was totty
I was out
of my comfort zone
They were
all pouty and hottie
I was just
about to go home
When she said,
“Are you Scottie?”
I said,
“yes how did you know?”
“I asked”
she said “I’m Lottie,
So, you
could ask me to dance”
I looked at
her like she was Potty
She just
smiled at me patiently
I smiled
back and said, “What me?”
She nodded
and smiled again
And was
swept off my feet by Lottie
We woke up early on Christmas day
And she
reached for her negligee
While I
checked the children’s room
And finding
them asleep in the gloom
I held her
in the first light of dawn
And we made
love on Christmas morn
It was
Christmas Eve and the Hartley household in the village of Clerembeax St Giles was
decorated for the season.
A large
fresh cut tree stood in the corner, perfuming the room and was festooned by a
myriad of assorted baubles, ornaments, tinsel and lights.
Christmas
cards of all shapes and sizes adorned every surface and more hung on bright red
and green ribbons suspended from the picture rails and bright colored Christmas
garlands hung gaily, crisscrossing the ceiling.
Outside,
through a break in the dark clouds, a shaft of week winter sunlight shone
through the window reflecting off the garlands and painted random patterns on
the walls and ceiling.
76-year-old
Paul Hartley sat watching TV in his favorite armchair in the front room of the
house he shared with his wife and soul mate Linda, the woman he loved more than
life itself.
Both of
them had been married before, but Linda was the love of his life and they had
spent 30 years apart before they found each other again, when their own
Christmas miracle happened 25 years before.
And as a
result of that Christmas miracle they had had 25 years of incredible happiness.
Paul and
Linda had made good use of the years they had together to make up for the lost
time when they were apart and as a couple they had had the fullest of lives.
Christmas
had always held particular significance for them, it was their favorite time of
year and had always been so, because their most meaningful moments together
happened at Christmas time, finding love together, losing each other, finding
each other again, and marrying each other, that’s why Paul called her Christmas
Linda.
And because
Christmas was so significant to them they did Christmas big and they relished
every moment, they would pack away all the ornaments and pictures, and replace
them with the festive decorations they had collected over the years, then there
would be a houseful on Christmas day and Boxing Day where they shared the
celebration with family and friends, and when the festivities were over they
would fly off to the sun for a few weeks, just the two of them.
Neither of them
could abide the New Year’s holiday so they took themselves away to enjoy each
other’s company.
But alas on
their 26th Christmas together the season held no joy for Paul, even
James Stewart in “It’s a wonderful life” could not lift his spirits and the
reason for his gloomy disposition lay in the next room, where the dining table
used to stand.
Where they
had so many wonderful Christmas dinners, the room full of the happy chatter of
good company, the table heaving under the weight of Christmas fare.
But in its
place now stood a stark and clinical hospital bed and laying upon it the most
precious thing in his life, Linda, surrounded by all the paraphernalia of
terminal illness.
Her once
vibrant body riddled with inoperable tumors, their evil spread consuming her
from within and as the cancer was so far advanced, when it was discovered she
refused what little treatment there was on offer and she also stubbornly
refused to die in hospital or a hospice.
Linda said
she wished to die in the home where she had known such great happiness, so how
could he refuse her such a simple wish?
He employed
a private nurse who sat with her at night and Paul tended her himself by day
and he watched her dying by inches every single day, it seemed to him to be the
cruelest of punishments for being so happy.
Paul’s
first wife was taken by cancer and that was hard enough to bare.
It was always
so hard when someone you love suffers before your eyes, but as much as he loved
his first wife and as hard as it was to watch her die, it was nothing compared
to the intolerable despair that he felt losing Linda.
She was not
only his wife she was his love, his life, his soul mate, she was the one, the
love of his life, his Christmas Linda.
He would
sit with her and read to her, sometimes Dickens, Stephen King or Tom Sharpe, depending
on her frame of mind.
On her
brighter days she would have him tell her jokes, she always said he was the
only one who could make her laugh.
Her brown
hair with its soft curls had long since turned silver and the sparkle was only
rarely present in her eyes and the laughter that used to play around them
replaced by pain and it was on the morning of that Christmas Eve when Linda told
him what she wanted for Christmas.
She was
always at her best in the morning but on that morning, she was having a good
day so after she had eaten breakfast she asked Paul to pass her the Mahogany
filigree jewelry box.
It was a
very precious object to her, not valuable in monetary terms, but precious
nonetheless, it was the very first Christmas gift he gave her, and she
treasured it, and she often told Paul it was her most prized possession, after him.
As he
handed it to her she smiled and just for a second there was a glimpse of her
loveliness shining through the pain and she patted the bed and bad him sit next
to her and as he sat on the bed next to her she took his hand and said quietly.
“I have to
say this to you today because I’m having a good day and I don’t know how many
good days I’ve got left”
“Don’t be
silly” he protested, and she squeezed his hand and then gave him a look which
said that he knew very well that she wasn’t.
Linda
carefully opened her jewelry box and from a draw within it she took out a
neatly folded embroidered handkerchief which she placed on her lap and carefully
unfolded it to reveal that inside were a dozen capsules containing her
medication.
Linda
looked at him with her soulful eyes pleading with him and as the realization of
what she was asking sank in Paul violently shook his head.
On her good
days she had salted away some of her medication until she now had enough to
hasten the end and she squeezed his hand again and said
“Please do
this for me”
She explained
that she didn’t want him to do it right there and then she just wanted him to
agree to do it when the time came, but that that time would be very soon.
“It’s the
only gift you can give me this Christmas” Linda asked looking in to his eyes
and then he added
“I love you
more than anything in the world and I know with all my heart that you love me”
Paul could
say nothing as the tears welled up in his eyes.
“Please do
this thing for me” she pleaded, and his heart was breaking at the choice he had
to make, let her suffer an agonizing conclusion to her life or end her
suffering and kill her.
“I just
can’t do it” he said through the tears and got up and left the room, she didn’t
call after him because she knew he would be back, so with tears streaming down his
face he grabbed his coat and went out the front door and went for a walk.
The day was
cold, grey and damp and clouds scudded across the December sky and any hint of
the promised sunny intervals in the forecast were not in evidence, it was the
kind of day that chilled you to the bone, but he didn’t feel the cold at all,
he just felt numb.
You had to
be alive to feel the cold and he was dying inside, and he walked for miles
under the grey skies along the woodland paths they used to walk together, his
mind in turmoil his eyes red with tears.
If he did
what she wanted he would lose her forever, the loss of her would be devastating,
but not to let her go would just be selfish.
Paul’s head
was spinning, and he didn’t know which way to turn, images of their happy
moments together swam in and out of focus, then as he walked into a clearing in
the woods where they once made love on a sultry afternoon, there was a sudden
break in the clouds and the woods were bathed in winter sunshine and all at
once he knew what he must do and hurried homeward.
When he
returned to the house Paul went straight to her bedside where she was sleeping,
so he sat in the chair at her bedside and rested his head on the bed beside her
then he felt her hand gently stroking his hair.
Paul sat up
and her hand moved to his cheek, so he took it in his own paw and kissed it
softly and then said
“I’ll do
whatever you want me to do”
A week
later Christmas had past and he was glad of it, it was without doubt the worst
Christmas of his life, full of tears and sadness instead of happiness and
laughter
There was
no wondrous Christmas feast, no table laden with Christmas delights, no hearty
laughter or light-hearted banter, just an endless stream of visitors, friends
and family, as cheery as was possible, putting on a brave face as they all came
with forced smiles to bring the season’s greetings, but all leaving with tears,
knowing that Linda would not see the spring.
Paul tried
not to be ungrateful, but every visit ate into the precious time Linda and he
had left but he knew how important it was to Linda to see everyone and say
goodbye.
Even the
doctor called in to make sure she was comfortable and in between visits Paul
would sit watching the needles dropping from the tree as if each dropping
needle symbolized Linda’s plight.
And as he
sat alone in his favorite armchair on New Year’s Eve staring at the pine
needles scattered beneath the tree he tried to come to terms with the fact that
Linda would die with the old year.
Since
Christmas Eve when she made her request of him, Linda had been in good spirits,
she had seen everyone in the world that mattered to her and said all the things
she needed to say so Linda had decided that morning, that enough was enough.
Paul tried
to remain cheerful for her, but she could see through it
“I know
you’re hurting too” she said, the pain etched in her face and with that they
made their plans for their last day together.
Firstly, Paul
phoned the nurse and told her she should have the night off to enjoy the New
Year’s Eve celebrations with her family and she was very grateful and accepted his
explanation without question.
After that
he filled the room with lighted candles and in the flickering light Linda and he
spent the evening together looking at photographs and reliving the great times
of their life together and played the music that formed the soundtrack of their
shared life then an hour before midnight she handed him the folded handkerchief.
He opened
it and inside were now close to twenty capsules, and one by one he broke them
open and emptied the contents into a wine glass and when he was finished he
filled the glass with Port and gave it a stir and put the glass on the bedside
table before sitting on the bed.
Paul took
her hand and kissed it and leant forward and kissed her mouth and started to
say good bye, but she put her hand to his mouth, so he reached over and picked
up the glass and held it up to her lips and she took a drink, then a little
more and a little more until the glass was empty and he wiped her mouth with
the hanky and she burped and then she laughed that wonderful laugh that he
loved so much.
The candles
sputtered, and the flames flickered and then squeezing his hand she said
“I love you
so very much”
“I love you
too” Paul said as he sat holding her hand in his and then they just sat in
silence looking at each other in the candle light until her eyes closed.
The Village
clock began chiming the hour and her hand went limp and her breathing became
shallow and then all the pain in her face was suddenly gone as the clock chimed
twelve, marking the passing of the old year and unknowingly marked Linda’s
passing.
He couldn’t
have said how long he sat there holding her dead hand with the tears streaming
down his face, but as he sat there he knew what had to be done.
Paul poured
himself a large whisky and sat in his favorite armchair where he wrote a long
letter explaining what he had done, and what he was about to do.
With the
letter written he put it into an envelope and placed it on the mantelpiece
where it would be easily found, then he drank his whisky and reached into his
pocket and removed the contents, placing them on his lap.
He filled
the syringe with the insulin he had stolen from the doctor’s bag the day before
and injected himself with the full syringe and as his eyes grew heavy he could
feel Linda’s hand on his shoulder and felt her fingers in his hair and as he
drifted into a coma she whispered
“I love
you” in his ear as his eyes closed.
When they
opened again he couldn’t believe what he saw, it was a place that was familiar
to him, it was Millmoor as it was more than 50 years earlier and it was snowing,
and the street was full of happy smiling people and there among them was Linda,
larger than life, vivacious and self-assured covered with snowflakes and
laughing.
It was his
snow angel, his Christmas Linda with snow covering her like sugar on a
doughnut, a delicious confection he would have gladly consumed, 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 fell away from her soft curls
only to be replaced by fresh ones.
There was a
rosy redness on her cheeks almost matching the hue of her coat and she was
young again, they were both young again and they had gone back 55 years to the
scene of their first embrace.
Linda threw
herself at him and she hugged him so tightly and he smelled her hair as he held
onto her and was intoxicated by her scent which over whelmed him.
They were
stood at the taxi rank and snow fell onto Linda’s soft curls as they took their
place in the queue and they kissed.
All too
soon a taxi arrived, as it had done 55 years earlier, but this time they both
got in and through the winter wonderland they departed, this time never to be
parted again.
