Uncanny Christmas Tales – (002) The Girl in The Christmas Dress

Steve Berry had always had a dislike for Christmas, despite all the jollity and faux fun, because unlike many of his Christmas mad friends he had no happy Christmas memories to anesthetise him against the season.

His parents were alcoholics and each year their Christmas came in a bottle and thanks to his father, Steve’s came with a slap.

So, his childhood Christmases were memories he would rather have forgotten, but as he grew up he found that adulthood brought no relief and it always seemed to him that when shit happened at that time of the year, Christmas just magnified the misery.

For example, if someone dies at Christmas the very season makes it more keenly felt.

He could testify to that from personal experience, as his mother died on Christmas Eve when he was only 19.

He has no idea where his father was and quite frankly, he didn’t care, he never showed up for the funeral and he could have been dead as well for all he knew.

So as a result, he has never trusted Christmas, because he knows that horror lurks beneath the coloured lights, tinsel, and paper chains.

That was until Holly Davis opened his eyes to new possibilities and he realised that Christmas could also magnify joy.

 

He had found himself working behind the bar in her Uncle Phil’s pub, the Pig and Whistle.

He was still uncertain quite how she managed to affect that, but affect it she did and during the ten days working for her she had turned his life upside down and it culminated on Christmas Eve with him wishing her a Merry Christmas at closing time and kissing her.

Judging by the way Holly responded Steve hoped that kiss on Christmas Eve might have been the start of something but alas for him it didn’t lead anywhere.

Holly had indeed responded to his advance and in fact had been hoping for it, but she knew it was far too soon to throw caution to the wind.

There were scabs as yet unpicked regarding Steve Berry that needed to be attended to before she completely let down her guard.

Holly considered him to be a work in progress and she thought he had potential, but he still needed work however there was certainly hope for him.

 

The other event that occurred on Christmas Eve was a prolonged snowfall which resulted in them being snowed in.

Holly was due to go to lunch at her cousin’s house on Christmas Day but as she lived 30 miles away and it was not possible to make the journey safely with the amount of snow that was laying.

Steve was due to spend the day alone not celebrating Christmas at all, but Holly invited him to spend the day with her instead as he hadn’t risked driving home the night before.

He would have been quite happy to have slept on one of the bench seats in the lounge bar as he had once before, but Holly insisted, he use the spare room.

So that was how Steve Berry came to celebrate his first ever Christmas and why he was sitting at the bar on Christmas morning nursing a cup of coffee in the same clothes he had been wearing the night before.

“Morning” he said as she appeared behind the bar

“Happy Christmas” Holly said and reached over and kissed his cheek.

Now it was not the kiss he was hoping for and it was not possessed of the passion that accompanied the embrace of the night before but that simple peck on the cheek held within it, hope.

“God its cold in here” she said

“Yes, there was a power cut during the night, and it knocked the boiler out” he said

“I’ve relit it, but it’ll take a while to warm up”

“This was not the Christmas day I had in mind” Holly said putting the collar of her dressing gown up

“Nor me” he added

She was supposed to be dining on a sumptuous feast at her cousin’s house, while he was supposed to be in self-imposed exile at his flat.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked

“Oh yes please” she replied, and Steve got up and went to the kitchen returning a few minutes later with a steaming mug of tea

“Thanks hon” she said and winced at her involuntary over familiarization and quickly went on

“I don’t know what we are going to eat today” Holly said

“We will need to ferret in the freezer”

“I didn’t know ferret was traditional Christmas fare” Steve said

“You know what I mean” she said, “Can you cook?”

“A bit” he replied

“Good because I’m rubbish” Holly admitted

Steve actually undersold himself when he said he could cook a bit, he could in fact cook very well, exceptionally well.

 

Steve not being a traditionalist, or a fan of the season could certainly make something out of what was on hand in the kitchen.

Holly however wanted to have a roast lunch, with all the trimmings, but after they checked the freezer, they had to rule out a roast dinner as the joints would never have defrosted in time, but there were alternatives.

The fresh vegetable stores were limited but more than sufficient for two people.

Although she couldn’t cook herself Holly was determined to help firstly by peeling the potatoes and carrots and then by getting out of his way so he could get on by taking herself off upstairs to get ready for the day.

 

While Holly was gone Steve finished preparing the food and he was pleased that he had achieved something to suit Holly’s traditional wishes at least in part.

He had just reached the point where he could safely leave the kitchen and get showered and shaved when Holly reappeared, and he was stopped in his tracks.

She looked stunning, her mousy hair, washed and styled was adorned with Christmas slides and she was wearing a white wool dress decorated with poinsettias.

And her shapely legs were covered by black tights with motifs of bows and parcels.

As he looked at her, he thought to himself that he’d like them to be stockings rather than tights, but nice legs were nice legs regardless of what they were sheathed in.

“Wow” Steve exclaimed

“Wow” he repeated, and Holly blushed

“It’s a Christmas dress you know” she said

“I don’t care” he said

“But you don’t like Christmas”

“It’s growing on me”

“Good” she said “you won’t mind wearing this then”

“When would he ever learn” He asked himself as he now had to wear another blessed Christmas sweater.

“Where do you keep getting them from?” he asked

“They’re Uncle Phil’s” she replied “I buy him one every year”

“I’ve never seen Phil in a Christmas jumper” Steve said

“No nor have I” Holly agreed

 

Steve went upstairs, showered, and shaved, and returned to find Holly had laid a table in the lounge bar, complete with festive serviettes, candles, party poppers and crackers.

On the CD player the Puppini Sisters were in full voice and his natural aversion to Christmas music was tempered by the fact he caught Holly singing and dancing along with the music.

He stayed out of sight in the doorway so he could enjoy the spectacle as long as possible but when she eventually became aware of him, she blushed redder than the poinsettias on her dress.

“How long have you been standing there?” she said suddenly flustered and began fussing with the table.

“Long enough” Steve replied

“You should have said something” Holly said as she headed towards the kitchen

“What and spoil the show” he replied as he followed close behind

 

Holly carried on with the table while Steve checked the oven and ten minutes later, he was transferring everything to serving dishes which Holly took to the table.

All he had left to do was make the gravy and get the Yorkshire puddings out of the oven.

Christmas dinner was as traditional as he could manage given the limits of the provisions available.

It was Holly’s turn to say “Wow” as he served Chicken breast wrapped in bacon, served with Roast potatoes, roast parsnips, carrots, peas, stuffing, and Yorkshire pudding.

“What no starters” Holly said tongue in cheek as she lit the candles and Steve opened the wine, then they pulled the crackers and she made him wear a paper hat.

For dessert he served apple pie and ice cream after which they watched the Queens speech and as soon as the speech was over Holly switched off the TV

“What now?” he asked

“Now we sit and talk” She replied

“You mean “talk?”” Steve said

“Yes”

“Do we have to” He said

“How are we supposed to learn about each other if we don’t talk?”

Holly replied

“So, what do you want to know?” he said resignedly

“Your childhood” Holly said with great interest

“What about it?” he replied

“Well, it’s not just Christmas that was unhappy was it?”

“No, it wasn’t” he replied, and Holly settled back to let him unburden himself

“It wasn’t just Christmas, it was Easter, Halloween, birthdays and New Year’s” he elaborated and paused to take a drink

“You see my parents were alcoholics, when I was young they managed to somehow keep it under control but once I got to school age I pretty much raised myself, which is how I came to learn to cook because if I didn’t cook I didn’t eat”

They had spent a very pleasant Christmas day together, snowed in at the pub, and the last thing he wanted to do was regurgitate the unpleasant moments of his life, particularly as he had been doing his best to forget them, but once he started he couldn’t stop and by the end of it he was exhausted as they sat in the gathering darkness.

Holly was largely quiet throughout and just added the odd word of encouragement and support.

But it was Holly who broke the short period of silence.

“How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly good” he responded

 

Despite his feeling unburdened there was an awkward silence, so Steve disappeared down to the kitchen to make them a snack.

He wondered if he should have held back and if he had unnerved Holly with his honesty.

When he had finished with the snack, he put it on a tray and carried it upstairs to the lounge where Holly greeted his arrival with a smile.

 

“God that was good” Holly said after consuming his offering with relish

“Every cloud has a silver lining” he said referring to the reason he learned to cook,

“There is always a positive” Holly said “you just have to look for it”

“Well that’s what I plan to do” he said and cleared the plates away

“I’ll pour us another drink” He said

 

When he returned, she was sitting with a Christmas present on her lap and she was smiling broadly.

“Happy Christmas” she said as she handed him the gift

“What’s this?” he asked

“Well open it and find out” Holly answered

“I wasn’t expecting a present” he said

Steve sat down and squeezed the package

“Oh no not another Christmas sweater” he said, and Holly giggled as he tore the paper open, but when he had removed all the paper and unfolded its contents, he saw it was indeed a sweater but not a novelty Christmas garment but was plain blue cashmere.

“That’s fantastic” he said enthusiastically “I love it 

“Try it on then” Holly insisted and stood up and took hold of the blue cashmere while Steve removed the Christmas jumper he was wearing and then they swapped.

As Steve pulled the cashmere over his head Holly held the novelty one, he had just removed, up to her nose and inhaled his scent.

“That looks great” she said when it was on

“It feels it” he said, “can I keep it on?”

“Yes” she said and held the other one to her breast

He walked over to the tree and plunged his hand in between the branches which was perhaps testament to the progress that he had made over such a short period of time that he had actually bought her a present, which he removed from its hiding place and said

“Happy Christmas”

“When did you put that there?” she asked

“This morning” Steve replied

Holly ripped the paper off like a mad woman until she was left with a little blue presentation box embossed with gold relief. 

She looked at it in wide eyed wonder, it was jewelry, and from a quality jeweler.

She took a deep breath and then opened it and she gasped.

“It’s lovely” she said as she took it out the box and held the gold pendant in her hand.

It was in the shape of a holly leaf with her name engraved on it.

“I love it” she said “put it on for me”

Steve took the pendant from her and when Holly turned her back to him, she reached back and scooped her hair out of the way while he fastened it, then she rushed over to the mirror, stood on her tiptoes and looked at herself and admired the pendant.

“I really love it” Holly said and let out a squeal and then for the second day running they ended the day with a passionate kiss.

Snippets of Downshire Life – Feast of St Andrew

The traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea with its Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, has all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park and it was in the grand neighbourhood of Granite Hill, which in a nod to San Francisco, the locals had nicknamed Nob Hill where local Children’s Writer, Alesha Khan, was hosting a dinner party, and among the guests were Kerry Freeborn and Sharon Blackburn, a pair of visiting thespians.

 

The hostess had first met Kerry after they both took part in the World Book Day events at Sharpington Library and they became friends, but that evening was the first time Sharon and Alesha had met.

 

There was a period of reacquaintance with the guest that she knew and formal introductions to those she didn’t but then after a brief chat with her guests Alesha had to excuse herself to check on the food, so it was upto the guests to amuse themselves.

In addition to the hostess Alesha, were a skinny young woman of a similar age, Kim Labuschagne, an illustrator, who was an old school friend, who also assisted in the kitchen, then there was Alesha’s brother Zach, an artist, Russell Glavin, the new curate of St Lucy’s, Henry Appleby, Church Warden of same, Literary agents, Jayson and Kathryn Mercer, and Tim Street who was a Local Historian, so it was an interesting bunch.

 

Kerry and Sharon got to know each other when they both worked on a very popular TV soap and during their time on the show they became very good friends, and over the years, in addition to the soap they had also worked in the theatre and even in pantomime, which was why they were both in Sharpington, at the Bluebird Theatre, doing panto, playing the ugly sisters in Cinderella, which was intended to be ironic given the way they looked.

At 30 years old, Kerry was stunningly attractive, slim with shoulder length brunette hair and hazel eyes but even Sharon, who was three years older, put her friend in the shade with her looks.

Sharon was slightly taller and a little curvier than Kerry with a shock of flame red hair, so it wasn’t their looks that kept them single.

Their problem was that in their profession it was difficult to meet men, well the right kind of men at any rate, and had over the years grown weary of being hit on by all the usual suspects.

Men who wanted to either be seen with a famous actress on their arm or wanted the glamour lifestyle they imagined went along with being a successful actor or on the baser level just wanted to have sex with a celebrity.

There was another obvious alternative to those types of men, and that was to date someone from their own world, someone on a par with them, but in their experience most actors tended to have huge egos and small personalities.

So, despite their professional success they were no different to any other human being, looking for love or companionship or a family.

What they needed was someone who would like them or love them for who they were rather than thinking of them as a backstage pass to a celebrity life.

But neither of them were actively looking for anyone so it came as a complete surprise to meet a serious candidate at dinner party in a small seaside town.

But not only had Sharon met someone, she was instantly smitten, and that was even before she knew who he was.

The man in question was Zach Khan, older brother of the hostess, and a renowned artist, and from the first minute she saw him she was besotted and she hung on his every word, not that there were a lot of them, as he was rather shy, unlike his sister, who was outgoing and bubbly, he was reflective and guarded.

But Sharon wasn’t going to let that derail her, after all she could talk enough for the two of them, and when the time came for them to take their seats she found that she was seated opposite him and she gave him her full and undivided attention.

 

“I went to your exhibition in Abbottsford last year” she said “at the Beumont Gallery”

“Really?” he said doubtfully

“Yes I was in a play at the Empire and I passed the gallery every day on my way to the theatre, so I went in every day” she confessed

“Everyday?” he said with a smile “Even I wasn’t there every day”

“I must confess that the first time was more about having time to kill, than art, but it was art that took me back again and again”

“Well thank you for that”

“I would have gone more often but it wasn’t on long enough” she said “I was horrified one Monday morning to find you had been replaced by some ill conceived art installation”

“You are clearly a woman of taste” he said and raised his glass to her and she returned his toast

“So what was you favorite piece” he asked, expecting her to say something glib in return such as

“I liked them all”

He hoped he was wrong because he liked her.

“That’s really difficult” she replied “you’ve put me on the spot now”

“Oh dear” he thought

“There are actually three”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t pin it down to one, so I have three pieces that I particularly liked” she said

“Tell me more” he instructed her desperate now to hear

“Two of them are paintings, “Umbrella Girl” and “The Defiant Harlot”“ she said “and the other was a sculpture “Spirit of Ecstacy Aflame”.

“Wow, I’m impressed that you remembered the names” he said “Most people say, “I liked the fairy with flames instead of wings”“ he said in a Monty Python voice and she laughed and then he went thoughtful and said

“Wait a minute, you were at the Empire Theatre while the exhibition was on”

“Yes” she admitted

“In Blue Blooded Murder?” he asked, impressed that he knew the name of the rather indifferent play

“Yes that’s right” she replied and then he studied her closely and put his hands up the frame her face, they way a film director would do

“Aha” he exclaimed “You were the murderer”

“Yes I was” she giggled

“You didnt have your lovelly red mane on show though” he said and she blushed at the compliment

“No it was under a black wig” she admitted, and then she whispered “it wasn’t a very good play”

“Well I liked it” he said “I actually went twice”

 

The remainder of the evening passed in the same easy manner until it was time to leave and they were suddenly thanking Alesha, who was at the front door saying goodbye to her guests in turn, and then they were outside.

Sharon was in a bit of a quandry because she was getting on so well with Zach that she didn’t really want the evening to end, and she would really have rather gone somewhere for a quiet drink than go back to the hotel.

But she was also mindful of the fact that she had gone there with Kelly and she didn’t want to ditch her.

So she and Zach, just hung around and waited to see what Kelly was going to do, he had noticed that she was getting on really well with Jayson, and just when she was about to accept the inevitable and walk back to the hotel with her friend she heard Jayson ask

“Are you staying at the Seaview?”

“Yes, we both are” Kelly replied

“Well why don’t I walk you there” he suggested “I’m sure Zach will be happy to escort Sharon” 

“Yes indeed” he said, and Sharon nodded vigorously

“We’ll be right behind you”

 

“Are you in a hurry to get back?” Zack asked as the ambled down the road to Sharpington Promenade from the heights of Granite Hill, with the gap between them and Jayson and Kelly lengthening with every step.

“No, not really, why?”

“Well there’s a little club just off the promenade called the Tainted Angel” he said “We could have a nightcap”

“The Tainted Angel?”

“Yes, though it’s not as seedy as the name suggests” he replied with a chuckle

“Oh well that’s ok then” she said “I’m in your hands”

“I like the sound of that” he said and put his arm through hers.

 

The Tainted Angel was located in a side street very close to the Hotel and when she first saw it her first impression was that the façade certainly didn’t hint at any seediness and Sharon was also pleasantly surprised with the interior, which was quite classy with its plush seating and moody lighting.

It was ostensibly a jazz club as hinted at by the artwork on the walls and in one corner was a small stage, which suggested there was live music at times, though not then, but there were jazz tunes emanating from the speakers. 

After getting their drinks from the bar they chose a quiet corner table from where they could see everything that was going on.

“This is nice” she said

“I like it” he agreed

“The music is good too” she said

“You like listening to Jazz?” Zach asked

“I do” she replied “But I like to play it as well”

“You do not!” he said incredulously “You’re a musician? What do you play?”

“Clarinet” she replied and smiled broadly “All the best Jazz is played on the Clarinet”

“That’s a bold statement, what about the Trumpet, Armstrong is sublime” he protested

“Yes, I know, and Kenny Baker’s Sax, Bix Beiderbecke’s Cornet and Oscar Petersen’s on Piano” she said passionately “But I will just say this, Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman and Acker Bilk, and then I will rest my case”

“Wow” he said “you’re irrepressible”

“I know it’s the red hair” she retorted and laughed

“So, when do you play?”

“As and when” she replied “There is a bunch of fellow Thesps who play wherever and whenever we can, Kelly plays piano”

“You should play here while you’re in Sharpington” he suggested “The owner would be thrilled”

“You know the owner then?”

“Kind off” he replied “I am the owner”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, I also own the Jazz Shack in Abbeyvale and I co-own Beiderbecke’s in Finchbottom” he said as he got up “Another drink?”

“Please”

 

The drinks kept coming as they sat and talked and they covered a lot of ground but as the time wore on what Sharon really wanted to talk about was him, the personal stuff, she knew he was an Artist who liked Jazz and the Theatre, but there was one vital area they hadn’t covered, so as the hour reached 2am and the drink had taken effect on her she asked.

“What about you?”

“What?” he replied

“What about you?” she repeated this time with more than a hint of a slur “are you spoken for?”

And she then reran the question in her head and was alarmed by the realization of what she had actually said

“What I meant to say is… um… err… are you… erm…”

And he smiled as he watched her struggle and get more and more flustered but decided to put her out of her misery.

“I’m single”

“Oh” she responded trying to appear indifferent “still not met the right girl?”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly” he replied but didn’t elaborate.

“What about you?” he asked

“Oh, still footloose and fancy free” Sharon replied

“That’s good to know” he said and then checked his watch and added “I’d better get you home Cinders”

“I’m not Cinders” she corrected him “I’m an ugly sister, can you believe that, bloody cheek”

 

It was only a short walk from the Club to the Hotel and she held on to him very tightly, not so much out of necessity than of lust. 

“I hope you didn’t mind me asking if you were… you know” she said “But I know what you Bohemian Arty types are like”

“Oh, and what are we like?” he asked

“A muse in every Garret” she retorted and dissolved into laughter, and she laughed so much that she had tears in her eyes, but when she looked up at him through tear filled eyes he kissed her, and what a kiss, it was the sort of kiss lovers longed for, and dreamt of

“So, what does this mean?” she asked when their lips parted

“What would you like it to mean?” he asked

“That you’re my bohemian and I’m you muse” she replied

“That’s precisely what it means” he said, and they kissed again.

Snippets of Downshire Life – St Andrew’s Day

The Pepperstock Hills National Park stretched from the bare, and often barren crags of Oxley Ridge in the North to the dense wooded southern slopes on the fringe of the Finchbottom Vale and from Quarry Hill, and the Pits in the West to Pepperstock Bay in the East.

It is an area of stark contrasts and attracted a variety of visitors.

The quarry hill side of the park to the west, as the name suggests, was heavily Quarried over several hundred years, though more extensively during the industrial revolution, the Quarries had been un-worked for over fifty years and nature had reclaimed them and former pits had become lakes and were very popular with anglers and the sparse shrubbery and woodland made it popular spot with courting couples whereas the northern crags and fells were popular with climbers and more hardy folk.

To the south and east was an extensive tract of magnificent mixed forestry and was rivalled only by the ancient woodland of the Dancingdean Forest.

One of the parks many villages was Springwater which was where Graham Reynolds had lived for all 63 years of his life, in fact he’d lived his entire life in the same house, and it had never once occurred to him that he should live anywhere else.

 

He was born in the late fifties and had few recollections of that austere decade, almost all his earliest memories were from the brasher, brighter and less restrained sixties.

But the earliest memories he did have were about Christmas and in the Reynolds household Christmas began on St Andrew’s Day, November 30^th.

As a result of his awareness of the time, coming on the cusp of the decades, his earliest memories of Christmas were of a bright and sparkly time when paper chains and the watery coloured paper stars, bells and balls were being replaced by dazzling foil and tinsel.

Which included the Silver Tinsel Christmas Tree, when he looked back it was a quite unspectacular specimen of a tree compared to what’s on offer in the 21^st century, but he loved it.

It stood less than 5 feet tall with its fold down tinsel covered wire branches, tipped with red beads to symbolize berries.

However, by the time his Dad had worked his not inconsiderable Christmas magic and covered it with every size, shape and shade of bauble, glass birds with feathered tails, lantern lights, strands of brightly coloured tinsel, foil covered chocolate treats and tiny crackers lain on the branches, it was transformed and was absolutely stunning.

It was the only tree he’d ever known until his teenage years came to an end, when in the mid-seventies he suggested that they have a real tree just for a change.

He would never have suggested it if he had realized for a second that it would signal the death knell of the Silver Tinsel Tree.

Because the following year it was replaced by a green plastic tree much more akin to those of today.

 

After his Dad died a few years later the task of decorating the tree fell to him and he instantly realized, sadly, that he hadn’t inherited his father’s tree dressing skill and was never able to equal him.

He came very close one year, in 1983 it was, but he concluded in the end that he merely flattered to deceive.

 

The task of tree dresser fell to his wife Evelyn which she performed admirably for 36 years, and she made a far better fist of it than Graham ever could.

However, whether she possessed the necessary skill to transform a Silver Tinsel Tree into something stunning he would never know, as she passed away in October.

“What I would give to watch you dress the tree again my darling” he said as he stared at the naked branches “and then hold you in my arms beside it”