Mistletoe And Miracles

Mistletoe And Miracles (Part One)

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’m glad they were happy even if I wasn’t.
I just wished they would take their happiness elsewhere 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 to keep me distracted.
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 mums 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 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
She nodded her understanding and 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.
Then she put a hand on each cheek and kissed me like she did when I was a boy.
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 hide 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 house where I had spent such a happy childhood.
It was midafternoon 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.
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 felt so shit.

Mistletoe And Miracles (Part Two)

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.
I didn’t plan to go in I just intended taking shelter in the porch until the snow eased off a bit, but 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.
They had gone to school together and had even dated briefly on two separate occasions.
Once when they were still at school and again when he returned from university.
But it never seemed to happen for them.
“Hey Charli” he said "I was just out for a walk."
“In this?” she said
"So what are you really doing out here?"
“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, 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” even she seemed surprised by her answer.
Apart from running the general store and post office Charli was also the church warden.
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.
She 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 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.
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 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’d felt a 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.

Mistletoe And Miracles (Part Three)

When I got up from the front pew I found all the anger and resentment had washed away I felt more positive than I had in weeks and I felt I could even look forward.
I stood up and smiled at St Jane and went in search of the drink I was offered.
I found Charli 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 her” 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
“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
“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.

The Girl Who Never Slept

Part One)

I first met Olwen Carmichael on a grey murky day in October when I had been into the village of Upper Oakham to buy some essentials, milk and bread etc.
It had been sunny and bright when I left Honeysuckle Cottage that morning so I decided to walk the two miles into the village and took one of the many paths through the woods.
However by the time I was leaving the village store with my essential purchases it was raining, and it was that fine drizzly rain that soaked you in an instant and from a distance it gave the illusion of being a mist.
In fact due to its inherent ability to obscure landmarks it was to all intents and purposes a mist.

My name is John Gallen and I’m a writer although no one in the Oakham’s would have heard of me, but under my nom de plume of Neil K Fitzgerald you would be hard pressed to find anyone who hadn’t.
For under that name I had written a series of successful thrillers, six in all and a seventh was now well over due.
I was recently divorced, though not my choice but my darling wife had cheated on me, with my best friend to boot so it couldn’t be avoided.
But since the divorce I had struggled with the latest book in the series, it didn’t even have a title yet and I was fast approaching a crucial deadline.
I decided the best thing to do was to get away, right away where no one knew me and where there were no distractions.
So I rented a house in the country, a holiday cottage in fact almost two miles from the nearest neighbour.
As it was out of season I managed to book it from October to March though I only planned to stay until I completed the book which I thought I would manage in a month, away from all the everyday distractions of a town.
So that was why I found myself living in the nauseatingly named Honeysuckle Cottage.
Which was as the name might suggest a pretty little cottage.
It would have originally have been a two up two down but it now had a single story extension which housed the kitchen
Upstairs was a small bedroom and the bathroom which was equipped with a good old fashioned man sized bath. While downstairs in addition to the kitchen there was a sitting room and another bedroom.

Well I had been walking back towards the cottage with my head down to protect my face from the slanting rain and making slow progress on the woodland path in my unsuitable shoes.
When I eventually lifted my head up I didn’t recognise a single tree and was completely disorientated and as I wasn’t that familiar with the woods I didn’t recognise anything.
As the rain continued to fall I was starting to panic when a voice behind me said
“Are you alright?”
I turned around and saw a little creature of indeterminate age in a parka with a fur trimmed hood.
“I am embarrassed to say it but I appear to be lost” I said
The figure stepped forward and pushed the hood back from her face to reveal a young woman in her mid-twenties no more than five foot tall.
“You’re lost?” she asked in disbelief and smiled broadly
“Yes” I said even more embarrassed
“Where were you going?” She asked
“Honeysuckle Cottage” I replied
“Oh you’re the writer” she said
“Yes” I said “John Gallen”
“I’m Olwen Carmichael, and we’re neighbours”
“Are we?” I asked
“Yes” She replied “I live in Cherry Tree House, just along the lane from you”
“Well I am pleased to meet you Olwen” I said
“Come on I’m going your way” She said and she walked with me all the way to the cottage, she wasn’t the chattiest person I had ever met but I rather liked her.
“Here you are, safe home” she said smiling.
“Thank you for rescuing me and for walking me home” I said “come in for a coffee”
“I can’t I have to be somewhere” she replied
“Another time perhaps” I suggested
“Yes” she replied and hurried off.

A few days later I had to drive into Northchapel to do a more substantial shop to stock the cupboards.
I had exhausted the meagre supplies I brought with me when I moved in plus I need some more appropriate footwear for the country.
Instead of going in the direction of Upper Oakham I drove the opposite way down the lane which would take me to Lower Oakham and I drove past Cherry Tree House where my nearest neighbour lived.
It was roughly two miles from my cottage and despite being called a house it was also a cottage though it was much bigger than mine.
I drove slowly as I passed it and I was surprised to find myself disappointed that there was no sign of life.
Beyond that were another three houses before the lane reached the Northchapel road, one of which was the home of my landlady, or at least the woman I was renting the Cottage from, Sandra Brown, who right on cue came out of her front door and waved.
I slowed down and waved back and I was about to drive on when she flagged me down.
“How are you settling in?” Sandra said
“Fine” I replied “I’m just going into Northchapel to stock up on groceries”
“I won’t keep you then, but Pop in for tea on the way back” she said

(Part Two)

With a boot full of Tesco’s finest tinned and dried goods I returned to Upper Oakham and didn’t really feel like stopping for tea with Mrs Brown but she had invited me and I thought it would have been rude not to, so I pulled up outside The Villa.
As we sat in her lounge drinking from her best China I related the story of my getting lost in the woods and being rescued by a young woman called Olwen.
“Oh she’s my niece” Sandra said with a mixture of pride and a little sadness “I worry about her”
“She seemed very sound when I met her” I said
“Oh she is but the poor girl is an insomniac, she hasn’t slept properly for four years or so” she said “She only ever cat naps”
“Why is that?” I asked
She was thoughtful for a moment and then she said
“More tea?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry” I said
“It’s ok Mr Gallen” she said “It just makes me sad”
“I understand but please call me John”
She nodded and went all thoughtful again before she said
“Olwen always had a small problem with sleeping after her grandmother died in her sleep when she was 12, but she seemed to grow out of that in time” She paused to take a sip of her tea.
“Then when she was at university her best friend Gina suffered an embolism and died one night.
Olwen was absolutely devastated but I think she would have come out the other side had it not been for the Kirby’s”
“The Kirby’s?” I asked
“Yes they were a family from the village who died in a house fire.
It happened in the early hours as they slept, five of them, it was so tragic.
Olwen knew the family very well and she had even baby sat the children.
It was the final straw for her and ever since that night Olwen has had a morbid fear of sleeping”

As I arrived home, or at least my temporary home I reflected on how candid Sandra had been, after all she could just have said she suffered from insomnia and left it at that.
I suppose not being honest might have failed to explain her irregular hours and her habit of walking the woods at all hours of the day and night.
I could relate to that in some ways as I was prone to keeping irregular hours myself.
But I was pleased Sandra had told me everything as a writer I was naturally nosy but there was something about Olwen that struck a chord with me.

I continued to see Olwen walking the lane or one of the many woodland paths though she never stopped to talk but she did occasionally wave.
I did wonder what on earth she did with herself.
There must be more to her life than walking the woods.
One day towards the end of October I was in the Upper village on a milk and bread run when I bumped into Sandra again.
“John” she said “how’s the book?”
“Hello Sandra, slowly I’m afraid”
“Well I won’t keep you from it then” she said and laughed
“Don’t worry I need to rest my brain for a bit” I replied “in fact why don’t you pop in later and I will return your hospitality, I have cake”
“Well in that case I would love to”

On the way back to the cottage I wasn’t sure if I had given Sandra the wrong impression and my invite might have been misconstrued.
She was an attractive woman some ten years my senior but nonetheless attractive. And a ten year age gap wasn’t unheard of after all.
There was a knock at the door about 3 o’clock that afternoon and when I opened the door I saw it was Sandra in a grubby Berber jacket, dirty wellies and mud spattered jeans which put my mind at rest.
She was hardly in the mode of dress for a woman who thought she had been invited for a tryst.
“Is it alright if I leave the dog in the porch?” she asked as she slipped off her wellies.
“Bring him in” I said
“Are you sure?” she asked “there is nothing worse than the smell of wet dog”
“Nonsense bring him in” I said
“Come on Skipper” she called
Skipper was an American Cocker Spaniel, very wet, very muddy and very friendly.
He paused briefly for a stroke and then went straight to the hearth.
I made the tea and took it into the sitting room.
“No china cups I’m afraid” I said
“That’s good I prefer a mug” she responded
I gave her a look because she had served tea to me on her best china.
“I know” she replied to my unasked question “I blame my mother”
We both laughed, my mother was like that as well.
As we drank our tea I found myself quizzing her about Olwen again.
The nosy writer again I supposed,
“I see her in the woods or on the Lane a lot” I said
“Yes she has a lot of time on her hands” Sandra replied
“She can’t hold down a job because she doesn’t sleep regularly but she is prone to nodding off from time to time”
It seemed that financially she was set, her house was hers out right and she had an annuity from her parent’s estate which was enough for her to live on,
She led a very modest existence.
“So what does she do to fill her days?” I asked
“She’s an avid reader” she replied “She’s reading all of yours at the moment”
“Really?” I said
“Olwen is also a bit of a movie buff especially classics” Sandra said “and of course she likes to walk”
I nodded
“It’s silly isn’t it that she feels safer walking the woods in the middle of the night that she does in her bed”
“It is” I agreed
“She doesn’t eat properly either” she added with a lump in her throat and I thought how wonderful it was to have someone care about you that much.

(Part Three)

It was Halloween and that time of the day when in my home town there would be a constant stream of expectant children knocking on the door.
Due to the remoteness of the cottage and the foulest weather I had seen for many a day, so I wasn’t expecting even one.
So imagine my surprise when there was indeed a knock at my door.
I opened the door and the sight that greeted me was as fearful a sight as you could imagine on any Halloween night.
It was a drowned rat, caked in mud, and looking very sorry for itself.
“Hello Olwen” I said “what on earth are you doing out in this?”
“It wasn’t this bad when I started” she replied
She looked like she had been on manoeuvres with the SAS.
“Come in, come in” I said “what happened?”
“Don’t laugh” she said “but I fell in a ditch”
“My God you are actually squelching” I said “get your coat and boots off”
I left her and went to get a towel when I came back she was walking towards the warmth of the fire and she was still squelching.
She stood in front of the fire in her squelchy socks and shivered.
I went upstairs and started the bath running and put fresh towels on the rail and went downstairs again.
“Right you need to get out of those wet things” I said in a fatherly tone
“I’ll be fine I just need to warm up a bit” she said
“Well you won’t warm up if you’re wearing wet clothes” I said “so do as you’re told, the bath is running”
Olwen tried to protest but I wouldn’t let her
“Throw your wet things on to the landing and I’ll put a change of clothes in the spare room for you”
“Ok Mr Gallen” she said like she was addressing a teacher.
I went downstairs again and turned my attention to my dinner.
I tended to only cook from scratch once a week but I always made more than I needed and the extra would be frozen and ready to use whenever.
On that particular day I was cooking lamb stew.
I gave it a stir and went to the airing cupboard in the spare room and looked for something that would be suitable for Olwen.
It wasn’t easy choosing from a selection of clothes made for a six foot tall fifteen stone man and find something that would do for a tiny girl barely 5 foot tall and less than seven stone soaking wet.
The only thing I could find was a rugby shirt that was a bit long even on me so it would be like a dress on her and a pair of football sock that would reach her thighs.
I lay them on the bed and picked up the pile of wet clothes and carried them down stairs with me.
Once downstairs I set up the clothes drier in front of the fire and draped her things over it and almost immediately steam started to emanate from her socks.
Her boots were already on the hearth and her coat was draped over the back of a chair.
About half an hour later Olwen appeared in her oversized Harlequins Rugby shirt and black football socks fiddling with her tousled damp hair.
“Do you feel better now?” I asked
“Much better thank you” she replied
“I’m sorry about the wardrobe” I added “it was the best I could do”
“Its fine at least I won’t get cold” she said and laughed
“Well sit yourself down and I’ll get you some food”
“No don’t worry I’m really not hungry” she said
I gave her a look
“Ok I’ll have a little bit” she said
“A wise decision” I said and went out to the kitchen.
I returned a few minutes later with a steaming bowl on a tray.
“Lamb stew” I said
I thought back to the conversation I had with Sandra about Olwen not eating properly and Olwen’s own statement not half an hour previously when she said
“I’m really not hungry”
Well for someone who wasn’t really hungry she did extremely well to polish off three bowls of Lamb stew.
While we ate we watched an old Cary Grant movie called “Holiday” and when it was finished she said
“Well thank you for looking after me and entertaining me but I’d better Change my clothes and get home”
Said Olwen
I got up and went to the front door and when I opened it the rain was still coming down like stair rods.
“Just put your coat and boots on and I’ll run you home” I said
“No you’ve been too kind already” she replied
“I’m not having you getting soaked to the skin again” I insisted
“You’re very bossy” she said with a smile
“I know” I said “That’s probably why I’m divorced”
I drove her the two miles up the lane to her cottage and she thanked me again and got out but before she closed the door she said
“Don’t get lost on your way home”
Then she laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard in her life.

It was a day later when Olwen “popped in” for the first time and for the first of many times over the coming weeks we shared a conversation and a drink of coffee across the kitchen table.
The “pop ins” happened at any time of the day or night partly because of her insomnia and in part because I was a writer and kept irregular hours myself.
Sometimes when the muse was with me I would just carry on writing until I couldn’t see straight, so I had no set time to go to bed or to get up in the morning.
According to my ex-wife it was one of the things that contributed to the breakup of our marriage.

As we moved slowly through November the “pop ins” increased exponentially as we raced headlong towards December and I was disappointed on the days when I didn’t see her.

(Part Four)

Once we got into December I was no longer disappointed as I saw her every day.
It began on the 1st of the month when she helped me to put up the Christmas decorations and as we were hanging the last of the garlands she said
“I love Christmas decorations”
“Me too” I said “I’ll help you put yours up when we’re done here”
“No thanks” Olwen replied
“Why not?” I asked
“I never put decorations up at home” she said
“Why not?”
“I don’t know really” she mused “it makes me sad I suppose, it reminds me of a happier time and I suppose that makes me sad”
“But you love decorations?” I said
“Yes”
“You love these decorations?” I asked
“Yes”
“Do they make you sad? I asked
“No”
“Why not?”
“Because I wasn’t a child in this cottage” she replied
“That’s nuts” I said
“I know” Olwen said “what can I say”

Anyway Olwen came to the cottage every day to enjoy the decorations, watch classic Christmas movies and eat my stew.
But we had kept most of her visits during normal hours until Christmas Eve.
I was burning the midnight oil because I was stuck on a tricky chapter the first of three chapters which needed to be submitted to my publishers by New Year’s Day.
It was partly Olwen’s fault I had gotten behind but she was such a pleasant distraction.
But to be perfectly honest she had become more of a distraction when she wasn’t there.

So it was just after eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve and rewriting the same section for the umpteenth time when Olwen knocked on the door.
I could tell it was her before I opened the door by her unique knock.
“Hey” I said
“Do you mind me popping in on Christmas Eve, I don’t want to upset your artistic flow” she said
“No flow to interrupt at the moment I’m afraid, this chapter is giving me a lot of trouble” I replied
“What is it, writers block?” Olwen asked
“No I’m not blocked, I’m writing ok, it’s just not very good” I said and laughed
“I could use a break” I lied

We sat on the sofa watching an old movie on cable, we chose it because of the title, “the Dream of Olwen”.
About half an hour into it she yawned and rested her head on my shoulder
I assumed it must me one of her infamous cat naps.
Half an hour later she was still sleeping.
I could tell by her breathing, even though I couldn’t see her, that she was properly asleep.
So I placed a cushion on my lap and gently lowered her head onto it.
Her legs were already on the sofa as she had been sitting in that side saddle fashion that girls have.
So I dragged the edge of the throw from the back of the sofa and draped it over her slender body.
I watched the end of the movie and then switched off the TV.
Olwen was still sleeping so I reached for the A4 note pad I kept on the end table and resting it on the arm of the sofa I began writing and the words flowed from my pen like an inexhaustible stream and after three hours of furious writing I had put the troublesome chapter to bed.
I looked firstly at the sleeping girl with her head on my lap and saw she was still sleeping soundly and then up at the clock which told me it was 6.45am,
Not that the time was relevant but I desperately needed to pee.
I slowly extricated myself, being careful not to wake Olwen and settle her onto the sofa and then tucked the throw around her.
As soon as I was up I realised the temperature had dropped so before I went to the loo I revived the fire in the grate and put some more wood on.
I then partly closed the door, I didn’t want her to wake up in a strange place and panic.
After having a much needed pee I went into the kitchen to make a drink
Which was when there was a knock at the door

(Part Five)

I couldn’t imagine who would be knocking on the door at 7 am on Christmas morning.
I opened the door to find Olwen’s aunt, Sandra standing there.
“Happy Christmas Sandra” I said
“Happy Christmas John” Sandra said but without any real conviction.
“Have you seen Olwen?” she asked “I saw her coming this way last night when I was walking the dog”
“I went to the cottage to wish her happy Christmas and there’s no sign of her and her bed hasn’t been disturbed” she continued pacing the small hall way.
“All the lights are still on but there’s no sign of her and I’m really worried”
“Shhh” I said putting a finger to my lips “Come here Sandra, she’s asleep in the lounge”
She crept to the door and had a glance through gap into the sitting room.
“How long?” she asked
“Over six hours” I replied
“She obviously feels safe with you” Sandra said
“I won’t wake her” I said
“I’m sorry you have been disturbed like this” she added
“Nonsense, I enjoy having a beautiful girl for company at Christmas”
“You think she’s beautiful?” she asked
“Of course, doesn’t everybody?” I asked
Sandra smiled at me and kissed my cheek “happy Christmas John” she said
“Christmas Dinner is at 3 o’clock”

After Sandra had left I finished my drink and the lack of sleep suddenly caught up with me and I knew I had to sleep.
I didn’t want to leave Olwen to wake up on her own but I was too tired to sleep in an armchair.
I thought for a moment and then went into the bedroom and got out the spare duvet before returning to the lounge.
I carefully drew back the throw from around her small frail frame and then picked her up.
“Hmmm” she murmured as I held her, then I carefully carried the beautiful featherweight little creature into the bedroom.
I laid her on top of the duvet and covered her with the spare.
I then went out and turned off the lights and locked the front door before returning to the bedroom and gently slipping between the duvets to lay down beside Olwen.
“Hmmm” she murmured as she snuggled in against me, so I put my arm around her and drifted off into a contented sleep.

It was remarkable how life can surprise you, when I rented Honeysuckle Cottage it was only ever intended as a short let.
But I knew when I woke up in bed next to a smiling Olwen on Christmas morning I knew I would never leave the village.
The book was well under way now and I could easily have moved back to civilization.
But while I had struggled with a particularly troublesome chapter she had become my muse and my love.

And for Olwen who had for so long held the world at arm’s length and avoided forming emotional attachments of any kind for fear they might lead to her heart being broken again.
Never imagined the course events would take after she rescued the panicky man lost in the woods.
She certainly never imagined she would wake up in his bed three months later or that she would have fallen in love with him.

When we woke up we just lay beneath the cosy comforting warmth of the duvet and talked for an hour, all the unsaid things we had wanted to say in the weeks preceding Christmas when we had lost our hearts.
Before we reluctantly agreed that we needed to move as we couldn’t disappoint Aunt Sandra.
I got up first and showered shaved and dressed then Olwen showered while I warmed up the car.
When she had redressed I drove her to her house where she finished getting ready and I waited in the house.
It was the first time I had been in there and it had an almost museum feel to it, no wonder she was always wandering.
Then we left the car outside Olwen’s house and prepared to walk the hundred yards or so to Aunt Sandra’s when it began to snow.
“This is the best Christmas ever” she said and took hold of my hand
“It’s a perfect Christmas” I concurred and kissed her

The moment we walked in through the front door of the Villa I realised the wisdom of leaving the car at Olwen’s because I would not be using it anymore that day as Uncle Norman thrust a cocktail of gargantuan proportions and indeterminate strength into my hand and I had no reason to suppose it wasn’t to be the first of many.
Oh I almost forgot I finally decided on the title for the latest book.
“The Girl Who Never Slept”

A Christmas Affair

(Part One)

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, 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.
But 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 woman with jet black hair and large brown eyes.
She was tall, slender and very well endowed 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.
But it wasn’t until a grey overcast day in June, on an office beano to Epsom that we showed each other in no uncertain terms how we felt.
When, as the Derby favourites thundered towards the finish line Gail and I, away from prying eyes, kissed for the first time.
And as we did 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 desired.

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

(Part Two)

So it was at the Christmas Party weekend in Dublin that 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.
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.
But despite and 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.
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 but it quickly became hot and passionate as my hand sought out her breast.
She broke away and open 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 while I was in there I thought it prudent to relieve myself while I had the opportunity.
However such a natural function normally simple rendered is much complicated when you are seriously aroused.
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
She had one arm draped across her breasts
“Good answer” she said as she walked towards me and lowered her arm at the last second and 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.
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 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 it.
“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”

Christmas Linda - Part 3 - From Eve To Eve

Christmas Eve

It was Christmas Eve and the house was decorated for the season
A large fresh cut tree stood in the corner and perfumed the room
Adorned by a myriad of assorted baubles and lights
Christmas cards of all shapes and sizes adorned every surface
And more hung on bright red and green ribbons from the picture rails
Bright colored Christmas garlands hung gaily crisscrossing the sealing
While outside through a break in the dark clouds
A shaft of week winter sunlight shone through the window
Reflecting off the garlands and painting random patterns on the walls
I sat watching TV in my favorite armchair in the front room
Of the house I shared with my wife and soul mate Linda
The woman I loved more then life itself
Both of us had been married before but Linda was the love of my life
We had spent 30 years apart before we found each other again
When our own Christmas miracle happened 20 years ago
And we have had 20 years of incredible happiness together
We had made good use of the years we had together
To make up for the lost time we were apart
And together we had had the fullest of lives
Christmas had always had particular significance for us
It was our favorite time of year and had always been so
Our most meaningful moments together happened at Christmas time
Finding love together, losing each other, finding each other, marrying each other
That’s why I called her Christmas Linda
We did Christmas big and we relished every moment
We would pack away all the ornaments and pictures
Replacing them with festive decorations we had collected over the years
There would be a houseful on Christmas day and Boxing Day
Sharing the celebration with family and friends
Then we would fly off to the sun for a few weeks
Neither of us could abide the New Years holiday
So we took ourselves away to enjoy each others company
But this year the season held no joy for me
Even James Stewart in “It’s a wonderful life” could not lift my spirits
And the reason for my gloomy disposition
Lay in the next room, where the dining table used to stand
Where we 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 a hospital bed
And laying upon it the most precious thing in my 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
The cancer was to far advanced when it was discovered
And she refused what little treatment there was on offer
She also stubbornly refused to die in hospital or a hospice
Saying she wished to die in our home where she had known such happiness
How could I refuse her that simple wish?
We had a private nurse who sat with her at night and I tended her by day
And I watched her dieing by inches every single day
The cruelest punishment for being so happy
My first wife was taken by cancer
And that was hard enough to bare
It’s always so hard when someone you love suffers
But as much as I loved my first wife and as hard as it was to watch her die
It was nothing compared to the intolerable despair I felt losing Linda
She was not only my wife she was my love, my life,
My soul mate, she was the one
I 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 me tell her jokes
She always said I 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
The laughter that used to play around them replaced by pain
And it was on the morning of that Christmas Eve
When she told me what she wanted for Christmas
She was always at her best in the morning
But on that morning she was having a good day
After she had eaten breakfast she asked me to pass her jewelry box
It was the very first Christmas gift I gave her
She often told me it was her most precious possession, after me
As I handed it to her she smiled and just for a second
There was a glimpse of her loveliness shinning through the pain
She patted the bed and bad me sit next to her
I sat on the bed next to her and she took my hand
“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”
I protested that she was being silly, she squeezed my hand
Then gave me a look which said that I knew she wasn’t
She opened her jewelry box and from a draw within
Took out a neatly folded handkerchief which she carefully unfolded
And inside were a dozen capsules containing her medication
She looked at me with her soulful eyes pleading with me
As the realization of what she was asking sank in I shook my head
On her good days she had salted away some of her medication
Until she now had enough to hasten the end
She squeezed my hand again and said “Please do this for me”
She didn’t want me to do it there and then
She just wanted me to agree to do it when the time came
But the time would be very soon
“It’s the only gift you can give me this Christmas”
She looked in to my eyes and said
“I love you more than anything in the world
And I know with all my heart that you love me”
I could say nothing as tears welled up in my eyes
“Please do this thing for me” she pleaded
My heart was breaking at the choice I must make
Let her suffer or end her suffering and kill her
I said “I just can’t do it” and I got up and left the room
She didn’t call after me she knew I would be back
With tears streaming down my face I grabbed my coat
And went out the door and went for a walk
The day was cold, grey and damp
And clouds scudded across the December sky
Any hint of the promised sunny intervals was not in evidence
It was the kind of day that chilled you to the bone
But I didn’t feel it at all I just felt numb
You had to be alive to feel the cold and I was dieing inside
I walked for miles under the grey skies
Along the woodland paths we used to walk together
My mind in turmoil my eyes red with tears
If I did what she wanted I would lose her forever
The loss of her would be devastating
But not to let her go would just be selfish
My head was spinning I didn’t know which way to turn
Images of the happy moments together swam in and out of focus
Then as I walked into a clearing in the woods
Where once we had 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 I knew what I must do
When I returned to the house I went straight to her bedside
She was sleeping; so I sat on the chair beside her bed
And rested my head on the bed beside her
Then I felt her hand gently stroking my hair
I sat up and her hand moved to my cheek
I took it in my own and kissed it softly and said
“I’ll do what ever you want me to do”

New Years Eve

Christmas had past and I was glad of it
It was without doubt the worst Christmas of my 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
All coming with forced smiles to bring the seasons greetings
But all leaving with tears knowing she would not see the spring
I know I sound ungrateful and I’m not really
But every visit ate into the precious time Linda and I had left
I knew how important it was to Linda to see everyone
Even the doctor called in to make sure she was comfortable
And in between visits I would sit watching the needles dropping from the tree
As if each dropping needle symbolized Linda’s plight
And as I sat alone in my favorite armchair on New Years Eve
Staring at the pine needles scattered beneath the tree
I tried to come to terms with the fact that Linda would die with the old year
Since Christmas Eve when she made her request
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
I 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 we made our plans for our last day together
I phoned the nurse telling her she should have the night off
To enjoy the celebrations with her family
She was very grateful and accepted my explanation without question
I filled the room with lighted candles and in the flickering light
Linda and I spent the evening together looking at photographs
And reliving the great times of our life together
We played the music that formed the soundtrack of our lives
Then an hour before midnight she handed me the folded handkerchief
I opened it and inside were now close to twenty capsules
One by one I broke them open emptying the contents into a wine glass
I filled the glass with Port and gave it a stir
And I put the glass on the bedside table before sitting on the bed
Then I took her hand and kissed it and lent forward and kissed her mouth
I started to say good bye but she put her hand to my mouth
Then I 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
I wiped her mouth with the hanky and she burped
And she laughed that wonderful laugh
The candles sputtered and the flames flickered
Then she said “I love you so very much” squeezing my hand
“I love you too” I said as I sat holding her hand in mine
And then we just sat in silence looking at each other until her eyes closed
The Village clock began chiming the hour
Her hand went limp and her breathing became shallow
And then all the pain in her face was suddenly gone
The clock chimed twelve marking the passing of the old year
And also unknowingly marked Linda’s passing
I don’t know how long I sat there holding her dead hand
With the tears streaming down my face
But as I sat there I knew what had to be done
I poured myself a large whisky and sat in my favorite armchair
Where I wrote a long letter explaining what I had done
And what I was about to do
With the letter written I put it into an envelope
And placed it on the mantelpiece where it would be easily found
Then I drank my whisky and reached into my pocket
And removed the contents placing them on my lap
Then I filled the syringe with the insulin I had stolen from the doctor’s bag
And injected myself with the full syringe
And as my eyes grew heavy I could feel Linda’s hand on my shoulder
And felt her fingers in my hair as I drifted into a coma
And she whispered “I love you” in my ear as my eyes closed
When my eyes opened again I couldn’t believe what I saw
It was a place that was familiar to me and it was snowing
And the street was full of happy smiling people
And there amongst them was Linda larger than life, vivacious and self assured
Covered with snowflakes and laughing
My snow angel, my Christmas Linda
With snow covering her like sugar on a doughnut
Wrapped up against the cold in a woolen hat and coat
And a long knitted scarf draped about her neck
She shook her head and her light brown hair 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 and she was young again
We were both young again and we had gone back 50 years
She threw herself at me and hugged me tightly
I smelled her hair as I held her and was intoxicated by her scent
We were stood at the taxi stand and snow fell onto Linda’s soft curls
We took our place in the queue and we kissed
All too soon a taxi arrived but this time we both got in
And through the winter wonderland we departed this time never to be apart again

Christmas Linda - Part 2 - One Special Night

I found myself stranded in a strange town
With less than a week to go before Christmas
Stranded two hundred miles from home
With a seriously ill car in the garage
And a lack of will to contemplate train travel
In truth I was in no hurry to return home
To the empty soulless house that once was home
But now held no comfort for me
My wife of twenty five years had died a year before
Finally loosing her battle with cancer
And my children were all grown up now
With homes and families of their own
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 I booked into a hotel for the weekend
And I would drive home on Monday
So finding myself in a strange town
Just a few days before Christmas
And with more than a little time to kill
I decided I could fill part of my day
By doing some last minute Christmas shopping
As I stepped out of the Hotel I 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
I made my way towards the high street
It was only a five minute walk
The receptionist assured me with a smile
As she jotted down some brief directions
In an effort to warm myself up
I walked briskly following her directions
Down the narrow almost Dickensian lanes and ally ways
Passing picturesque Victorian and Tudor buildings, well mock Tudor
As I went and it was indeed five minutes when I emerged
Onto the busy cobbled pedestrianised high street
It was a curious mixture of ancient and 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
The street was crisscrossed along the full length
With festive lights and decorations
Which did there best to brighten the scene
I decided to familiarize my self with what the town had to offer
In the way of shops so I turned left and joined the throng of shoppers
Faces gloomy to match the weather
And headed towards the Georgian pillared building
This turned out to be the public library
As I dodged between the Christmas Lemmings
I made a mental note of shops I would return to
My progress was hampered by erratic shoppers
Who moved it appeared 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 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 I passed
Though the cheeriness of the music
Was clearly not reflected on the faces
Of the shoppers going in and out of them
As I passed one shop Noddy Holder screamed “it’s Christmas”
Just in case any of the reluctant shoppers were in any doubt
When I reached the other end of the high street
Where the church stood there was a little square
Which I wasn’t able to see before
In the centre of which was the war memorial
And to its left was a magnificent Christmas tree
Covered in baubles and adorned by a beautiful angel
Assembled around the tree was the Salvation Army band
I took a few moments to admire the tree and listen to the band
And I was taken back to a distant time and place
The clock chimed and I was brought back to the present
I took a few more moments while I decided on my first port of call
Not realizing just how important a decision it was
I decided on Woolworths, always a favorite of mine at Christmas
But it also happened to be the closest
So I walked towards the store and pushed open the door
As I entered I paused to hold the door open for a woman coming the other way
I waited as she put her purse away into a huge handbag
And I wondered what I would get for my trouble
I had found the older I got the less women appreciated courtesy
The simple act of holding open a door could provoke a range of responses
A smile, a thank you, a nod, a sneer, a tut or a colorful mouth full of abuse
And you couldn’t always tell who was going to do what
When she had finished fiddling and securing her bag
She moved to step through the open door
As she passed me she looked up said “Thank you” and smiled broadly
And then she stopped as I returned her smile and then I just stood there
Both of us stood motionless as slowly the recognition set in
We both stood there dumbstruck not believing our eyes
I’m not sure how long for but long enough for a queue to form behind each of us
We both blushed and excused ourselves
And stepped out onto the street away from the door
Neither of us knew what to say I couldn’t believe it was Linda
Who I last saw 30 years before being driven off in a taxi
Disappearing off through the snow
With her palm pressed against the glass her neck craned to keep sight of me
And here she stood before me as beautiful as ever she was
The soft curls of her brown hair still danced on her shoulders
Yet with fine strands of silver threaded thru it
Her smile was still able to melt my heart even after all those years
Her smiling eyes still had the same sparkle
The years had been kind to her and too me much less so
I was still fumbling for the words to say as I studied her
When she reached up and hugged my neck
Kissing my cheek at the same time
And spoke softly in my ear “Paul, Is it really you?”
I simply said yes and we stood in that long comfortable embrace
I don’t know how long we stood there not wanting to let go
Then as she relaxed her grip and I kissed her forehead
“It’s so good too see you” I said feebly
She put her head on my chest, squeezed me and sighed
Then released her grip and pulled away slightly
And put her hand up to my cheek and caressed my grey beard
“Do you have time for coffee”? She said almost pleadingly
I said of course and she put her arm through mine and led me across the high street
Asking quick fire questions as we went
And I explained about my car breaking down
And that I was staying at the Cromwell hotel
She said “oh really” and “oh dear” delighting in my misfortune
We sat on a large comfortable sofa in Starbucks
And told the tales of our lives spent apart
Throughout I looked at her with adoring eyes
Pinching myself expecting to awake from a dream
As I had done so very may times before
I told her about my wife and children
She told me of her marriage and subsequent divorce
The good man I gave her up for turned out to be a violent drunk
She had no children which although unsaid was clearly a regret
With the aid of several cups of coffee we managed to talk away the entire morning
I suggested we might spend the day together
And have dinner together at the hotel
She accepted the invitation to dinner with a delightful smile
Then she looked at her watch and suddenly jumped up
“Look at the time, I have to go” she flustered
She said she had a prior commitment
“Lunch with mum” she said rather unconvincingly
She said it was something she couldn’t get out of
As I helped her back into her coat the smell of her hair
Evoked memories of our past embraces
She fished out her mobile phone as we left the coffee shop
From her huge handbag and we exchanged phone numbers
And we firmed up the details for the evening
Then with a hug and a kiss she was off
I stood and watched her walk away her coat tails swishing behind her
She stopped briefly and turned to give me a smile and a wave
Then with the phone to her ear she hurried off again talking animatedly
I stood watching until she disappeared from sight
Then I went back to my Christmas shopping
And treated myself to a new shirt for the evening
I bought the gifts I was looking for and paper, tags, cards etc
And with all my shopping complete I returned to the hotel for lunch
The rest of the day seemed intolerably long
In an effort to kill some time I went for a swim
Used the gym, went for a walk
I got a haircut even though I didn’t need one
I even wrapped the Christmas presents I had bought
But the time passed so interminably slowly
I walked into the hotel bar at 7 o’clock an hour early
Partly for some Dutch courage and in part because I had run out of things to do
I ordered a drink and then sat at the bar
Even though I wasn’t expecting her until eight
Every time the door opened I turned to look for her
And when it wasn’t her 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
There she stood wearing a simple black knee length dress
Black tights or stockings and four-inch stiletto shoes
Her legs as shapely as I remembered them
And in one hand she held a black leather clutch bag
Her face looked a little anxious until I stood up
And then it lit up in the most radiant smile
Then she walked towards me
Almost tottering on her heels and she laughed
I took her hand as she climbed onto a stool
And kissed her cheek the fragrance of her perfume was intoxicating
Going straight to my head like a strong spirit
The combination of her scent and my desire for her almost made me swoon
I ordered her a drink and we nervously made small talk
Like two strangers on a blind date
Until the waitress led us through to the restaurant
Once we were seated at our table
I asked her how her lunch with mum went
And she blushed the deepest red
She told me the lunch date was a little white lie
Because she needed the afternoon to get ready
And the animated phone call was to her sister
To rally the troops to get her presentable
We both laughed and any awkwardness was gone
We talked with such an easy familiarity
As if her departing taxi had only been a week ago
By the time we had finished our coffee the restaurant was empty
Except for us and a weary waitress waiting to clear our table
The evening seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye
And had all too soon come to an end
We got up and made our apologies
Linda went through the door to the ladies and I settled the bill
I said good night and had made my apologies again
Then went in search of Linda through the same door she had used
I found her standing by the Christmas tree
She had retrieved her coat and scarf from the cloakroom
Which were draped over one arm her bag was in her hand
Linda stood with her back to me gazing out of the window
She could see my reflection in the glass and smiled
I gasped at the beauty of her and pinched myself again
I wanted to kiss her so much but I was afraid
Afraid to break the magic of that special kiss
That perfect moment when we kissed in the snow
All those years ago when I let her slip from my grasp
For 30 years I had revered that moment
Relived it whenever I felt a snowflake on my skin
Or stood in a taxi queue on a winters night
Or when I hear the Salvation Army play
Or when the snow falls during Christmas time
For 30 years I had wanted to be back there holding her in the snow
And here I stood a few steps away and I was hesitant
As if sensing my turmoil she turned away from the window
And I took those few steps to face her
We stood for a few moments just looking at each other
Then she smiled her most heart melting smile
As she caressed my cheek then she pulled me to her
And kissed me gently on the lips, a tender and sensitive kiss
When our lips met electricity ran down my spine
And it was as if we were young again
Our lips parted for a second then met again
And her kiss became more intense, more passionate
Her coat, scarf and bag fell to the floor as our arms enveloped each other
We stood locked in our passionate embrace as the tree lights twinkled
Then she pulled away for a moment before burying her face in my neck
And spoke softly in my ear “you see that was as good as the first time”
How could I have doubted it would not be perfect?
I slid my fingers beneath her hair caressing her nape
And gently turned her head so I could kiss her sweet lips again
This time when we disengaged she put her head on my chest
Still holding on to me so tightly
I kissed the top of her head and smelled her hair
I didn’t want to let her go, and then I said “please stay”
“I can’t watch you disappear from my life in another taxi”
She lifted her head and looked at me and said
“I’m not letting you go again, not now not ever”
Then she smiled at me coyly and blushed like a virgin
And buried her face in my chest again
Then she scooped up her coat, scarf and bag from the floor
Took my hand and we walked in silence to my room
Outside the room she looked into my eyes and kissed my mouth
Then I opened the door and let her walk inside
She dropped her coat and bag onto a chair and turned to face me
Reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck
And whispered in my ear “I never stopped loving you”
My arms enfolded her and pulled her to me tightly
Then we kissed at first soft and tender then more urgently
And I began to un-wrap my most special Christmas gift
Wrapped in lace and silk instead of paper and ribbon
Caressing her body from neck to Lacy stocking top
And our love was at last made absolute
When our act of love was complete and our dreams realized
We lay holding each other in the afterglow
Silently content until we drifted off to sleep
I awoke to find her stood silhouetted against the window
Gazing out wearing my shirt to cover her nakedness
She turned her head to me and said “it’s snowing”
I slipped out of bed joined her at the window
Standing behind her and enveloping her in my arms
We watched as the snow settled on the courtyard
She hugged my arms and said “How perfect is that”?
Both of us thinking back to the last time we enjoyed the snowfall together
We stood for a few minutes taking in the snowy scene
Then she inclined her head so I could kiss her
When my hands moved from her soft belly and cupped her breasts
She led me back to the bed and we made love again
I woke early and lay in the half light and held Linda’s sleeping form in my arms
As I lay there I thought how good the fates had been to us
If my car hadn’t broken down, and had I not rejected the idea of taking the train
I would not have been shopping on that cold grey morning
I thought about the moments I spent admiring that tree in the square
And listening to the Salvation Army band
And what thought processes made me do what I did
Was it destiny that I chose Woolworths at that very moment or just blind luck?
All I knew was that 24 hours before my life had been so empty
And now it was full and I was finally with my soul mate
Linda was in my life at last and I wanted her never to leave it again
But if fate decreed that this one special night
Was all we could have I would have to be content

Christmas Linda - Part 1 - Brief Encounter

Snow spattered, unseen, against the steamy glass
As the train rattled out of the station
It was a fairly crowded train, but not full
With weary shoppers, shopping bags bursting
And commuting workers the weeks work done
Journeying homeward at the dark days end
A cheerful crowd though
Pleased with themselves bright faced and hearty
Full of seasonal cheer anticipating the holiday
Seemingly oblivious to the drafty carriage
I sat alone and felt lifted by the quiet jolliness
Contemplating the collective countenance
Of the self satisfied passengers
Then she appeared and I was lifted higher
There she was larger than life vivacious and self assured
Covered with snowflakes and laughing to herself
My snow angel, with snow covering her like sugar on a doughnut
Wrapped up against the cold in a woolen hat and coat
And a long knitted scarf draped about her neck
She shook her head and her light brown hair danced about her shoulders
And the snowflakes 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 probably
She made her way down the train between the seats
Leaving wet snowflakes in her wake
Full length coat swishing side to side
She moved almost gracelessly, which suited her well
As she tottered a little in her high boots
Perhaps due to the lurching motion of the train
Or the Christmas punch and eggnog
She was still laughing softly to herself which also suited so well
And then she saw me, and her eyes lit up like beacons
Those wonderful sparking laughing eyes
She stopped and stood momentarily open mouthed
Then her smile illuminated the carriage
My heart soared at the sight of her
I returned her smile and she flushed a little deeper red
It had been almost a year since I last saw her
My lovely lost love, Linda
I had locked all my feelings away but now they were back
Like a door had opened in my heart and they all rushed out
And I missed her so much I didn’t know just how much till that moment
We were never lovers, only ever friends
But very special friends very close friends though no more
We laughed a lot together, shared confidences
Best friends but no more than that,
Though I wanted more, so much more
But I didn’t want to lose what we had so I said nothing
I loved her so much, but she was not free for me to love
And Linda was not free to love me even if she wanted
So I contented myself with our special friendship
My unrequited love remained so
If that was all then better that than nothing
I was happy to love her unconditionally
Then circumstances changed, my father died
I had to move away and I didn’t see her again, until now
Now she was in front of me, my angel, larger than life
Smiling, blushing, laughing and so lovely
I stood up and smiled at her again
She threw herself at me and she hugged me so tight
I smelled her hair as I held her and was intoxicated by her scent
All the old feelings flooded back over whelming me
I had often dreamt of being reunited with her
But never in my wildest dreams had I expect such a reaction
Could it be my love was not unrequited?
We sat down on the lumpy seats in the rattling carriage
And were completely alone
We sat looking at each other not wanting to lose sight of one another
In case the spell were broken
She removed a glove and put her hand on mine
As if testing it was not a dream then she slipped her hand into mine
Her delicate fingers so small in my grasp
For the remainder of the journey we reveled in each other’s company
We caught up with the lost months filling in the gaps
Still oblivious to our companions
It was as if we had never been apart
Then the train shook to a halt as all too soon we had arrived
Our fellow travelers rushed off to their Christmases
Reluctantly we left our seats and disembarked arm in arm
Then hand in hand we walked slowly along the platform
Still talking and laughing and then out onto the street
Where the shops were now closing and the town was relatively quiet
From one pub Noddy Holder screamed “it’s Christmas” to the world
Only the pubs and restaurants seemed to hold any attraction to most
But we joined a small group gathered round the Salvation Army band
And joined in with the carol singing in the town square
Before strolling towards the taxi stand
As the snow again fell onto Linda’s soft curls
We took our place in the queue of travelers eager to be home
I was eager to be nowhere else but with her
I shuffled along for the last few steps like a sulky schoolboy
Smiling, Linda turned to face me and kissed me gently on the lips
Such a warm sensitive and tender kiss
When our lips parted she smiled at me coyly
And flushed a deep shade of pink
Then I kissed a snowflake off her nose
Cupping her flushed cheek in my palm I slid my fingers beneath her hair
Caressing the soft downy hair on her nape
And pulled her sweet lips to mine and returned her kiss
Her arms enveloped me holding me so close, so tightly
Not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose what we had found
Not wanting to lose me again
We stood locked in our embrace as the snow fell softly on the scene
She pulled away for a moment then buried her face in my neck
And spoke “I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed your love for me”
I had waited so long for this moment waited so long to here those words
To hear my love returned and then we kissed again
Cabs arrived and departed through the slush
The queue around us just kept moving as if unaware of our love
After a while we moved from the queue sat on a bench and talked
My love was not unrequited after all she felt the same for me
She had always done so yet still she was not free
She was torn between the two of us
Torn between the comfortable familiarity for a good man
A loyal and dependable man, safety
And the passion she felt for a soul mate
It wasn’t fair on him he hadn’t done anything wrong
I had been on the receiving end of that kind of pain
And I found myself unable to inflict it onto another
So our love had to be a forbidden one
Best friends no more, I wanted more, so much more
And could not content myself with a special friendship
Now I knew my love was not unrequited
There was no going back, now Pandora’s Box had been opened
But at least now I knew she loved me
With the same depth as I loved her
We walked back to the taxi rank and kissed again in the snow
All too soon she got into a taxi
And through the winter wonderland departed taking my love with her
With her palm pressed against the glass she craned her neck to keep sight of me
Through the snow spattered window until the very last moment
Till the cab had gone out of sight
She was gone from my arms, gone from my view, gone from my life
But a Christmas happening had changed my life forever
A brief encounter, fleeting, here and then gone
Her scent still in my nostrils, the taste of joy on my lips
My soul mate gone forever, yet forever in my memory, forever in my heart
I would never see her again and moved away in the New Year
Making a life elsewhere but I never forgot her
And when on a winter’s night I hear the “Sally army” play
Or when the snow falls during Christmas time
Or I feel a snowflake on my skin
I feel her small hand in mine and then she is once again in my arms
And I smell her soft brown hair and the taste of her is on my lips
I hear her say “I love you” and she is mine forever