'Twas the Night Before Christmas - Preview
She would always remember the first night he visited, on a cold and treacherous Christmas Eve so many years before. Not unlike this one, with the wind howling down the chimney and a young child awaiting the arrival of St. Nicholas. Through the thin glass, she watched the cobbled street, awaiting the purr of the engine and crunch of tyres, fearful of a faraway tread of hooves and wheels bouncing from the cracks.
Her fingertips touched the cold pane, as the first snowfall of winter began; flakes gently floating against the glass, vanishing as if at the touch of her fingers. That day had seen the first snowfall of winter too, while she had been walking the fields with her younger brother, her father having gone down into the village to stock up on provisions. She had raised her arms to the sky, thanking the Lord that it was to be a white Christmas.
Laughing, she and her brother had run back to the house, where they found their mother assisting Mrs Gibbon, the cook and housekeeper, with the preparations for this evening’s dinner and tomorrow’s celebratory luncheon. It was a tradition for their mother to help in the kitchen each Christmas; so as never to forget her roots, she said.
“Would you like any help, Mother?”
“No, thank you, Ellie. You just keep your brother occupied until your father gets home and we can prepare for this evening.”
Which she dutifully did. Holidays, Christmas in particular, while they were children had been filled with games and laughter, the sheer joy that only children can feel. Reminiscing, then, had always overflowed with a warm glow, not tinged with the cold edge of sadness and the bitterness of regret. Childhood should be as sweet as candy cane and she was glad of it, but only wished she could see it otherwise than as through the glass of a snow globe.
She remembered the many Christmases spent baking in the kitchen with Mrs Gibbon, singing carols along to the wireless with her brother, taking long walks in the countryside in the brisk air with her father. She could shake all of these images and watch the snow fall around them the way the icing sugar used to fall through a sieve to top a Victoria sponge, each one like a scene from the handmade Christmas cards which her mother would send to cousins and aunts and uncles whom she had never met. The mirage of a perfect Christmas.
They spent the afternoon in the sitting room, listening to the wireless, watching out of the window as the snow fell thicker, listening to the carols. A radio play aired, a tale of goblins who hijacked St. Nicholas’ grotto and forced the elves to make monstrous toys to be delivered to the world’s children on Christmas Eve and trap them all in a time loop, so that Christmas morning would never again dawn. Darkness fell slowly from mid-afternoon, the white haze growing thicker. The snow was sticking and getting deeper before they finally heard the clattering of the front door.
A flurry of snow preceded their father into the hallway.
“Maud and her brood assured me they were leaving promptly as I left. She said we shouldn’t wait for her to serve dinner.”
“Hugo, that simply won’t do. They are our guests; I should not be seen to be ungracious enough to sit down to dinner prior to their arriving.”
“Very well, Carolyn, we shall await their arrival.”
Ellie listened to this exchange as she watched the snow begin to pile in the driveway. Her aunt Maud, Maud’s husband Gregory, and her cousins, Jack and John, would likely struggle to reach them. It would be a shame. They visited every Christmas. The boys, aged nine and ten, were like brothers to Eustace, her own nine-year-old brother. When it snowed, she and her father would help the three boys build a snowman while her mother assisted Mrs Gibbon in preparing the luncheon.
“Eleanor, perhaps you and your brother should help your mother prepare the dining room and then get yourselves ready for dinner.”
“Yes, Father.” She switched off the wireless and beckoned to her brother.
After laying the table for eight, Ellie filled herself a bath, enjoying the hot water enveloping her body whilst listening to the wind howling outside, rattling the window pane, whipping the snow into a blizzard.
Washing and drying herself, she pulled her clothes tight around her to block out the chill, filling the bath again and calling out to her brother that his bath was ready as she passed his bedroom on the landing. She sat on her bed and watched the snow for a while, the trees shrouded in white, branches reaching out like claws in the darkened evening.
She changed into her eveningwear, her garments finished with a winter gown featuring a fitted corset and dresses flowing to the floor. Her brother knocked on the door, asking her to secure his bow tie for him, a skill he’d not yet mastered.
They returned to the sitting room, where they found their parents also dressed in preparation for dinner. They settled to await the rest of the family’s arrival, listening to the wireless forecast the most severe snowfall in several years, recommending they do not venture out of their homes unless in the most necessary circumstances.
‘In other news, authorities are seeking a man who absconded from prison earlier today. Edward Hitchfield, 42, who was convicted of two murders in March this year, escaped prison officials early this morning after being admitted to hospital following a minor injury. He has been described as medium-build, bearded, with dark hair but balding, last seen wearing prison-issue garments. Police have advised the public to be vigilant. They suspect he will have made changes to his appearance and urge the public to report any suspicions they may have.
‘Elsewhere…’
“My sympathies are with anyone who is without shelter in this weather, whomever they be,” Carolyn commented.
“This fellow won’t get far in this weather,” Hugo added. Ellie wondered fleetingly if it was truly their minds he was attempting to put at ease. “They’ll have caught him in no time at all.”
“Assuming he doesn’t freeze to death,” Ellie added aloud, looking out into the ever-falling snow. It sounded more savage to the ears than she intended. Neither of her parents commented.
They were silent as the news programme was succeeded by carols, the lyrics of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman swelling to fill the room. They all gazed thoughtfully through the window into the ghostly glow of the dark night. No one broke the silence. Satan’s power seemed particularly potent at that moment, with a man led astray somewhere out there in the wilderness, cloven hooves treading in his shadow.
A loud knock roused them from their rumination.
___
'Twas the Night Before Christmas will be available from Amazon and Lulu.com on Friday the 13th, with other retailers to follow.
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Her fingertips touched the cold pane, as the first snowfall of winter began; flakes gently floating against the glass, vanishing as if at the touch of her fingers. That day had seen the first snowfall of winter too, while she had been walking the fields with her younger brother, her father having gone down into the village to stock up on provisions. She had raised her arms to the sky, thanking the Lord that it was to be a white Christmas.
Laughing, she and her brother had run back to the house, where they found their mother assisting Mrs Gibbon, the cook and housekeeper, with the preparations for this evening’s dinner and tomorrow’s celebratory luncheon. It was a tradition for their mother to help in the kitchen each Christmas; so as never to forget her roots, she said.
“Would you like any help, Mother?”
“No, thank you, Ellie. You just keep your brother occupied until your father gets home and we can prepare for this evening.”
Which she dutifully did. Holidays, Christmas in particular, while they were children had been filled with games and laughter, the sheer joy that only children can feel. Reminiscing, then, had always overflowed with a warm glow, not tinged with the cold edge of sadness and the bitterness of regret. Childhood should be as sweet as candy cane and she was glad of it, but only wished she could see it otherwise than as through the glass of a snow globe.
She remembered the many Christmases spent baking in the kitchen with Mrs Gibbon, singing carols along to the wireless with her brother, taking long walks in the countryside in the brisk air with her father. She could shake all of these images and watch the snow fall around them the way the icing sugar used to fall through a sieve to top a Victoria sponge, each one like a scene from the handmade Christmas cards which her mother would send to cousins and aunts and uncles whom she had never met. The mirage of a perfect Christmas.
They spent the afternoon in the sitting room, listening to the wireless, watching out of the window as the snow fell thicker, listening to the carols. A radio play aired, a tale of goblins who hijacked St. Nicholas’ grotto and forced the elves to make monstrous toys to be delivered to the world’s children on Christmas Eve and trap them all in a time loop, so that Christmas morning would never again dawn. Darkness fell slowly from mid-afternoon, the white haze growing thicker. The snow was sticking and getting deeper before they finally heard the clattering of the front door.
A flurry of snow preceded their father into the hallway.
“Maud and her brood assured me they were leaving promptly as I left. She said we shouldn’t wait for her to serve dinner.”
“Hugo, that simply won’t do. They are our guests; I should not be seen to be ungracious enough to sit down to dinner prior to their arriving.”
“Very well, Carolyn, we shall await their arrival.”
Ellie listened to this exchange as she watched the snow begin to pile in the driveway. Her aunt Maud, Maud’s husband Gregory, and her cousins, Jack and John, would likely struggle to reach them. It would be a shame. They visited every Christmas. The boys, aged nine and ten, were like brothers to Eustace, her own nine-year-old brother. When it snowed, she and her father would help the three boys build a snowman while her mother assisted Mrs Gibbon in preparing the luncheon.
“Eleanor, perhaps you and your brother should help your mother prepare the dining room and then get yourselves ready for dinner.”
“Yes, Father.” She switched off the wireless and beckoned to her brother.
After laying the table for eight, Ellie filled herself a bath, enjoying the hot water enveloping her body whilst listening to the wind howling outside, rattling the window pane, whipping the snow into a blizzard.
Washing and drying herself, she pulled her clothes tight around her to block out the chill, filling the bath again and calling out to her brother that his bath was ready as she passed his bedroom on the landing. She sat on her bed and watched the snow for a while, the trees shrouded in white, branches reaching out like claws in the darkened evening.
She changed into her eveningwear, her garments finished with a winter gown featuring a fitted corset and dresses flowing to the floor. Her brother knocked on the door, asking her to secure his bow tie for him, a skill he’d not yet mastered.
They returned to the sitting room, where they found their parents also dressed in preparation for dinner. They settled to await the rest of the family’s arrival, listening to the wireless forecast the most severe snowfall in several years, recommending they do not venture out of their homes unless in the most necessary circumstances.
‘In other news, authorities are seeking a man who absconded from prison earlier today. Edward Hitchfield, 42, who was convicted of two murders in March this year, escaped prison officials early this morning after being admitted to hospital following a minor injury. He has been described as medium-build, bearded, with dark hair but balding, last seen wearing prison-issue garments. Police have advised the public to be vigilant. They suspect he will have made changes to his appearance and urge the public to report any suspicions they may have.
‘Elsewhere…’
“My sympathies are with anyone who is without shelter in this weather, whomever they be,” Carolyn commented.
“This fellow won’t get far in this weather,” Hugo added. Ellie wondered fleetingly if it was truly their minds he was attempting to put at ease. “They’ll have caught him in no time at all.”
“Assuming he doesn’t freeze to death,” Ellie added aloud, looking out into the ever-falling snow. It sounded more savage to the ears than she intended. Neither of her parents commented.
They were silent as the news programme was succeeded by carols, the lyrics of God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman swelling to fill the room. They all gazed thoughtfully through the window into the ghostly glow of the dark night. No one broke the silence. Satan’s power seemed particularly potent at that moment, with a man led astray somewhere out there in the wilderness, cloven hooves treading in his shadow.
A loud knock roused them from their rumination.
___
'Twas the Night Before Christmas will be available from Amazon and Lulu.com on Friday the 13th, with other retailers to follow.
Visit me on Facebook
Follow me on Twitter
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