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.
