Christmas is a special time
And I want to spend it,
with the woman I love
The most perfect lover
For a perfect Christmas
who fits me like a glove
Christmas is a special time
And I want to spend it,
with the woman I love
The most perfect lover
For a perfect Christmas
who fits me like a glove
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.
Paul walked into the hotel bar at 7 o’clock, an hour early, partly for some Dutch courage and in part because he had run out of things to do so he ordered a drink and then sat at the bar.
Even though he
wasn’t expecting her until eight, every time the door opened he turned to look
for her and when it wasn’t her his self-doubt crept in, and with every false
alarm the doubts got worse, what if she doesn’t come? What if she changed her
mind? What if she never intended to come? What if? What if? What if?
Then at a quarter
to the hour the door opened and there she was, the love of his life, and every
bit as beautiful to him as ever, in spite of the passing years.
Linda was wearing
a simple black knee length dress, black tights or stockings and four-inch
stiletto shoes, and he thought her legs were as shapely as he remembered them.
In fact he thought
that everything about her was as wonderful as he remembered, even though she
was thirty years older.
She held a black
leather clutch bag in her hand and her face looked a little anxious until Paul
stood up and then it lit up with the most radiant smile.
Relieved to find
him there, she walked towards him almost tottering on her heels and that made
her laugh.
“Hello” She said,
and he responded “Hi” and took her hand as she climbed onto a stool.
Paul kissed her
cheek and the fragrance of her perfume was quite intoxicating, going straight
to his head like a strong spirit and the combination of her scent and his
desire for her almost made him swoon.
He ordered her a
drink and they nervously made small talk, like two strangers on a blind date,
until the waitress led them through to the restaurant.
“How did your
lunch with your mum go?” Paul asked once they were seated at their table and
she blushed the deepest red in response
“The lunch date
was a little white lie” she admitted
“Oh?”
“Because I needed
the afternoon to get ready” she said, “for this”
“And the animated
phone call you were having when you left?”
“Was to my sister,
to rally the troops and get me presentable” she confided and they both laughed
and any awkwardness between them was gone.
“Well, all I can
say is that it was time well spent” he said, and she blushed again at the
compliment.
Over dinner they
talked with such an easy familiarity as if her departing taxi had only been a
week earlier rather than 30 years.
By the time they
had finished their coffee the restaurant was empty except for Paul and Linda
and a very weary waitress waiting to clear their table.
The evening seemed
to have passed by in the blink of an eye and had all too soon come to an end.
They got up and
made their apologies and Linda went through the door to the ladies while Paul
signed the bill.
“Good night” he
said, “and I must apologize again for keeping you so late”
After leaving a
large tip on the table he went in search of Linda through the same door she had
used, and he found her standing by the Christmas tree.
She had retrieved
her coat and scarf from the cloakroom, which were draped over one arm, and her
bag was in her hand.
Linda stood with
her back to him gazing out of the window, but she could see his reflection in
the glass and smiled at him and he gasped at the beauty of her and pinched
himself again.
He wanted to kiss
her so much, but he was afraid, afraid to break the magic of that special kiss,
that perfect moment when they kissed in the snow all those years earlier when
he let her slip from his grasp.
For 30 years he
had revered that moment, reliving it whenever on a winter’s night he heard the
Salvation Army play, or when the snow fell during Christmas time, or when he
felt a snowflake on his skin, or stood in a taxi queue on a winter’s night.
For 30 years he
had wanted to be back there in that moment holding her in the snow, and there
she stood a few steps away from him, yet he was hesitant.
But as if sensing
his turmoil, she turned away from the window and he took those few steps to
face her.
They stood beside
the Christmas tree for a few moments just looking at each other, then she
smiled her most heart melting smile as she caressed his cheek before she pulled
him to her and kissed him gently on the lips, a warm sensitive and tender kiss.
When their lips
touched electricity ran down his spine and it was as if they were young again.
When their lips
parted she smiled at him coyly and flushed a deep shade of pink and a second
later they met again, and her kiss became more intense, more passionate.
Her coat, scarf
and bag fell to the floor as their arms enveloped each other and they stood
locked in passionate embrace as the tree lights twinkled beside them.
Linda pulled away
for a moment before burying her face in his neck and then softly spoke in his
ear.
“You see, that was
as good as the first time”
“How could I have
doubted it would be perfect?” he responded and cupping her flushed cheek in his
palm before he slid his fingers beneath her soft brown curls and caressed the
soft downy hair on her nape as he pulled her head toward him, so he could kiss
her sweet lips again.
The next time they
paused she put her head on his chest, still holding on to him so tightly as
Paul kissed the top of her head and smelled her hair.
He held her and
didn’t want to let her go, and then he said
“Please stay, I
can’t watch you disappear from my life again in another taxi”
In response she
lifted her head from his chest and looked at him and said
“I’m not letting
you go again, not now, not ever”
Then she smiled at
him coyly and blushed like a virgin before she buried her face in his chest
again.
A moment later she
scooped up her coat, scarf and bag from the floor and took his hand and they
walked in silence to his room.
Outside in the
corridor she looked deeply into his eyes and kissed his mouth before Paul
opened the door and let her walk inside.
She immediately
dropped her coat and bag onto a chair and turned to face him as he followed her
and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his
ear
“I never stopped
loving you”
Paul’s arms
enveloped her and pulled her close to him and then they kissed, at first soft
and tender but then more urgently and he began to un-wrap his most special
Christmas gift, wrapped in lace and silk instead of paper and ribbon.
Caressing her body
from neck to lacy stocking top and their love was at last made absolute.
When their act of
love was complete, and their dreams realized they lay holding each other in the
afterglow, silently content until they drifted off to sleep.
Paul awoke to find
Linda stood silhouetted against the window, gazing out into the night, wearing
his shirt to cover her nakedness and she turned her head to look at him and
said
“It’s snowing”
Paul slipped out
of bed and joined her at the window, and standing behind her encompassing her
in his arms they watched as the snow settled on the courtyard and she hugged
his arms and said
“How perfect is
that?”
They stood for a
few minutes taking in the snowy scene, both thinking back to the last time they
enjoyed the snowfall together then she inclined her head, so he could kiss her
and when his hands moved from her soft belly and cupped her breasts she led him
back to the bed and they made love again.
He woke early the
next morning and lay in the half light and held Linda’s sleeping form in his
arms and as he lay there he thought how good the fates had been to them that
weekend.
If his car hadn’t
broken down, and had he not rejected the idea of taking the train, he would not
have been shopping on that cold grey morning.
He thought about
the moments he spent admiring that tree in the square and listening to the
Salvation Army band, and what thought processes made him do what he did.
Was it destiny
that he chose to start his shopping at Woolworths, and at the very that moment
Linda was preparing to leave, or just blind luck?
They could have
chosen any one of the five doors along Woolworths frontage but they both chose
the same one, surely that had to be fate.
Although it didn’t
really matter to him, all he knew for sure was that 24 hours before that day
his life had been so sad and empty and now it was full to overflowing and he
was finally with his soul mate.
Linda was in
Paul’s life at last and he wanted her never to leave it again, but if fate
decreed that the special embrace on one special night of that special weekend
was all they could have then he would have been content, but he didn’t have to.
51-year-old Paul Hartley found himself stranded in a strange town with less than a week to go before Christmas.
Although to be
fair an unfamiliar town would have been a more accurate description, but
nonetheless he was stranded almost a hundred miles from home in Abbeyvale, with
a seriously sick car in the garage and a distinct lack of will to contemplate
traveling home to the north by train.
In truth he was in
no hurry to return home to the empty soulless house that he was once happy to
call home, which now held no comfort for him.
Paul’s wife of
twenty-five years, Elaine, had died earlier that year, finally losing her
battle with cancer.
Their three
children were all grown up now with homes and families of their own so there
was only him in a house full of reminders.
The house would be
full at Christmas, full of noise and hustle and bustle, and the usual mix of
love, laughter and tears, but for now it was cold and empty.
So he booked
himself into the Abbeyvale Court Hotel for the
weekend and he would drive home on Monday once the car had been resurrected.
Finding himself in
a strange (unfamiliar) town just a handful of days before Christmas and with
more than a little time to kill he decided he could fill part of his day by
doing some last-minute Christmas shopping.
So after breakfast
on Saturday morning he left the Hotel and as Paul stepped outside he shivered,
the day was cold, grey and damp and clouds scudded across the December sky, it
was the kind of day that chilled you to the bone.
He made his way
towards the high street, which was only a five-minute walk, the receptionist
had assured him with a smile, as she jotted down some brief directions.
In an effort to
warm himself up he walked briskly following her directions down the narrow
almost Dickensian lanes and alleyways, passing picturesque Victorian and Tudor
buildings, well mock Tudor at least, as he went.
It was indeed five
minutes when he emerged onto the busy cobbled pedestrianized high street which
was a curious mixture of the ancient and the modern.
At one end of the
street a Norman Church was visible and at the other was what appeared to be a
municipal building with rather pretentious Georgian columns.
There was still
evidence of a row of Edwardian shop fronts but much of the street was modern
with a little too much sixties influence to be easy on the eye in Paul’s
opinion.
The street was
crisscrossed along its full length with festive lights and decorations which
did their best to brighten the scene.
Paul decided to
familiarize himself with what the town had to offer in the way of shops, so he
turned left and joined the throng of shoppers, with gloomy faces to match the
weather, and headed towards the Georgian pillared building which turned out to
be the public library.
As he dodged
between the Christmas Lemmings Paul made a mental note of the shops that
interested him, which he would return to.
His progress was
hampered by erratic shoppers who appeared to move independently to any logic.
Some seemed to
zigzag everywhere and very few possessed the ability to walk in a straight line
for more than a few paces and others would take a few steps and then stop for
no apparent reason, then after a few moments pause carry on, normally in the
same direction.
The sound of
cheery Christmas songs and carols could be heard from every shop he passed
though the cheeriness of the music was clearly not reflected on the faces of
the shoppers going in and out of them.
As he passed one
shop Noddy Holder screamed “it’s Christmas” to the outside world, just in case
any of the reluctant shoppers were in any doubt.
When Paul reached
the other end of the high street where the Norman Church stood there was a
little square, which he wasn’t able to see before, in the center of which was
the war memorial, and to its left was a magnificent Christmas tree, festooned
with a myriad of assorted baubles, ornaments, tinsel, lights and surmounted by
a beautiful angel.
Assembled around
the tree was the Salvation Army band and Paul took a few moments to admire the
tree and listen to the band and while he listened he was taken back to a
distant time and place where he and the love of his life had held hands as they
sang along.
The clock chimed,
and he was brought back to the present and he took a few more moments while he
decided on his first port of call, not realizing at the time just how important
a decision it would prove to be.
Paul decided on
Woolworths, always a favorite of his at Christmas, but on this occasion, it
also happened to be the closest, so he walked briskly towards the store and
pushed open the door.
As he prepared to
enter he paused to hold the door open for a woman coming the other way and he
waited patiently as she put her purse away into a huge handbag and he wondered
what response he would get for his trouble.
Paul had found
that the older he got the less women appreciated courtesy, the simple act of
holding open a door could provoke a wide range of responses, a smile, a thank
you, a nod, a sneer, a tut, an accusation of male chauvinism or a colorful
mouth full of abuse, and he couldn’t always tell who was going to do what.
When the woman had
finished fiddling and securing her bag she moved to step through the open door
and as she passed Paul she looked up and said
“Thank you”
followed by a broad smile, and then she stopped in her tracks as Paul returned
her smile and then he too just stood there.
Both of them stood
motionless on the threshold as slowly the recognition set in and they were both
dumbstruck, not believing their eyes.
Neither of them
were sure how long they stood looking at one another for, but long enough for a
queue to form behind each of them.
When they realized
what they had done they both blushed and excused themselves and stepped out
onto the street away from the door apologizing profusely.
When they were
clear of the crowd neither of them knew what to say, and still couldn’t believe
their eyes, but Paul knew in his heart without a doubt that he was looking at
Linda Parsons, who he had last seen 30 years before being driven off in a taxi,
disappearing off through the snow, with her palm pressed against the glass as
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.
But here she stood
before him as beautiful as ever she was in his eyes, the soft curls of her
light brown hair, which hung beneath her hat, still danced about her shoulders,
it just had fine strands of silver threaded through it.
Her smile was
still able to melt his heart, even after all those years and her smiling eyes
still had the same sparkle and he thought the years had been kind to her and
less so to him.
As he studied her
he was fumbling for the right words to express his joy at seeing her when she
reached up and hugged his neck, kissing his cheek at the same time, and spoke
softly in his ear.
“Paul, is it
really you?”
He simply said
“yes” and they stood in a long comfortable embrace, and he didn’t know how long
they stood there, not wanting to let go before she relaxed her grip and he
kissed her forehead
“It’s so good to
see you” he said feebly, and she put her head on his chest, squeezed him and
sighed.
Linda released her
grip and pulled away slightly and put her hand up to his cheek and caressed his
grey beard.
“Do you have time
for coffee?” She asked almost pleadingly
“Of course,” Paul
said, and she put her arm through his and led him across the high street,
asking quick fire questions as they went.
Paul explained
about his car breaking down and that he was staying at the Abbeyvale Court
Hotel as he was in no rush to return home
She responded with
“oh really” and “oh dear” internally delighting in his misfortune as they
walked into the nearest coffee shop, Café Société, and sat on a large
comfortable sofa and over coffee they told the tales of their lives spent
apart.
And throughout
Paul looked at her with adoring eyes, periodically pinching himself, expecting
to awake from a dream, as he had done so very many times before.
He told her about
his wife and children and she told him of her marriage to Daniel and the
subsequent divorce.
The good man that
Paul gave Linda up for turned out to have feet of clay and degenerated into a
violent drunk, they had no children, which although unsaid was clearly a regret
for her.
With the aid of
several cups of coffee they managed to talk away the entire morning and Paul
suggested they might spend the rest of the day together and have dinner
together at the hotel.
Linda readily
accepted the invitation to dinner with a delightful smile but then she looked
at her watch and suddenly jumped up in alarm
“Look at the time,
I have to go” she flustered then she said she had a prior commitment
“Lunch with mum”
she added rather unconvincingly, saying it was something she couldn’t get out
of as he helped her back into her coat, the smell of her hair evoking memories
of their past embraces.
She fished out her
mobile phone as they left the coffee shop, from her huge handbag and they
exchanged phone numbers, and firmed up the details for the evening, then with a
hug and a kiss she was off.
Paul stood and
watched her walk away, her coat tails swishing behind her, she stopped briefly
and turned to give him a smile and a wave, then with the phone to her ear she
hurried off again talking animatedly and he stood watching until she
disappeared from sight before he went back to his Christmas shopping and
treated himself to a new shirt for the evening.
Paul bought all
the gifts he was looking for, plus paper, tags, cards etc. and with all his
shopping complete he returned to the hotel for a late lunch.
After that the
rest of the day seemed intolerably long, and in an effort to kill some time he
went for a swim, used the gym, and then went for a walk.
He got a haircut,
even though he didn’t need one, he even wrapped the Christmas presents he had
bought that morning, but the time passed so interminably slowly.
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.
We broke up last Christmas
A hasty knee jerk reaction
To a silly misunderstanding
Which I regretted so much
And I was still hoping
For some kind of miracle
That we might make amends
When we met by chance
And there was a spark
I was looking closely
For some kind of sign
That we might go back
To how things were
But it was soon apparent
That it was too late now
To salvage our relationship
That was born and died
You’re just a name in an address book
But thoughts of you pop into my head
Some distant half-forgotten memories
Of when we shared a home and a bed,
In quiet moments I wish us back there
Where I had a special place in your heart
But it would take a Christmas miracle
For us to go back in time to the start
It was a very special Christmas love, but
Too much time has passed since then
And it’s too late now to have regrets
For love that died by the seasons end