Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts

Wednesday, 27 September 2023

Italian stories

Northern Italy, October 1935

    Toni looked at the back of his mother's head as she turned to stir the risotto. He was filled with such tenderness and he was glad that she couldn't see his face, because she would have broken down. He wanted to stroke her hair and hold her but knew that would alarm her. She would see it as a sign that he would not return.
    His father burst into the room relieving the tension and bringing an atmosphere of normality as he sat at the table and poured himself some wine.

    'So you're going then, Toni? Off to fight for a worthwhile cause, following the path of the great Roman emperors, conquering the world. I can tell you, all your great ideals will be left behind once you see the reality of war.'

    Toni ignored the sarcasm in his father's voice. He joined him at the table, poured some wine and raised his glass.

    'Lucio will be in my regiment. We're leaving next week. We're stopping at Tivoli and then on to Africa where we'll be trained in artillery.'

    His mother, Maria, slammed the saucepan of risotto on the table and served it out with her ladle beating on the bowls.

    'Men have such short memories' she said, 'It's all madness. All that suffering in the Great War was meant to end it all. It was terrible for me, going off on my own with a small boy, not knowing if I'd ever see my husband again, losing my brother, nothing to eat and making clothes out of old bits of material and never knowing when it would end.' She paused and held out her left hand. 'They want my wedding ring, well they can have it for what it's worth.'

    Toni and his father looked at her in astonishment, their spoons in mid air. She never talked about the Great War and seemed to pretend it have never happened. 

    Maria had grown up in the last years of the Belle Epoque before all illusions were swept away for ever.

    She had been the most elegant, sweet and dainty young woman in her town, her head full of romance and deeply in love with her dashing husband, Filippo, who showed such promise as a brilliant Penal Lawyer. When the war arrived in their Northern Italian town she was forced to go away with a two year old Toni, to Genoa to stay with distant relatives for the war years. Toni's father had stayed behind in their home town. His high standing in his profession meant he was needed there, he dealt with the toughest cases and the most hardened criminals. Filippo was a handsome man and there were many women left behind seeking male company and a warm companion to comfort them amidst the harsh realities of life in war time. 

    When Maria and Toni returned the marriage was never the same again and Maria had poured all her love onto her young son, stifling him.

    Maria went back to the stove and brought out plates of polenta and salami. She handed round Filippo's favourite spinach with ham and cream and poured herself a small glass of wine.

    'Well I'm glad that your best friend Lucio will be with you, son. He is so big and strong and will surely look after you. Though I can't think why he wants to leave that lovely girlfriend of his, Betti.'

    Toni rolled his eyes.
    'Oh mamma, you are funny. Don't you worry, I'll look after myself. I'll be back soon with lots of interesting things to tell you.'

     Maria breathed in deeply and went back to the kitchen to return bearing her speciality 'Tirami su' and setting it on the table with a flourish.

    'Tuck in now, they won't have this where you're going'.

    Toni was about to reply when he noticed his father's expression. He was looking at his mother with such love but also regret. Toni could see what might have been between them if the war hadn't got in the way. The moment passed and his father got up whistling an American yankee tune from the Great War, 'Over there, over there'.
    He felt that his father was making fun of him and went to help his mother clear the table.
    Toni had recently qualified as a lawyer, following in his father's footsteps. Instead of Penal law however he had decided to specialise in Civil Law. For once his father had supported him and now they worked together in the same studio. Toni had always loved learning and finding things out. He had sailed through school and university with the greatest ease. His school friends had often teased him and called him a swot but it really was just what came naturally to him. Toni's excellent results gained him an award and a prize trip to The United States. He was fascinated by the American way of life, the democracy, the variety of peoples all working together and the efficiency. On his return he had found that his friends were all talking passionately about politics in a way that made him deeply uneasy but he went along with them for friendship's sake.
 
    Then Lucio had talked him into going off to fight for Italy in this African campaign but Toni wasn't looking forward to it at all. Part of him though wanted the young girls to see him as more of a man and admire his strength instead of always being in awe of his academic brilliance. He also hoped that with him out of the way his mother and father might rekindle their relationship.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

    The station was swarming with young men in uniform trying to find their groups. Toni soon spotted Lucio, smart in his brand new kit and his hair full of Brilcream. He went over to him and was soon joined by a few more friends from university smoking their free cigarettes.

    They were told to get in the second carriage and soon the whistle blew. Toni and Lucio leaned out of the window to wave to the crowd who had come to see them off. 
    As he sat down, Toni felt sick but pulled his cigarette packet out and tried to stop his fingers from shaking as he lit  one. They were on their way, there was no going back.

XXXXXx
Tivoli 1935
 
    The train stopped in Tivoli and the men were taken to accommodation and told their training would begin the next day. The training was tough and a few days later Toni was relieved when they were told they were going on a sightseeing trip to the Villa Adriana. Lucio had already seen it and was enthusiastic.
 
    'You'll love it Toni, a brain box like you. All I can remember is that it was built between 118 and 138 BC by the emperor Hadrian.'

    The villa Adriana was indeed magnificent. Toni wandered around taking photographs and imagining himself as an emperor creating such a beautiful place. The layout of the rooms could still be seen and it was evident that Hadrian had a greatly loved architecture. There was even a room that looked as though it had been specially designed for romance. It was at this moment that Toni decide to grow a moustache. He would go back home as a conqueror and an emperor.
    While they were at Tivoli, letters started arriving from home. Lucio quickly gathered a whole pile from Betti, all scented and sealed with hearts. He told Toni they were full of passion and her undying love for him. Toni felt embarrassed about his letters. They were also full of passion and undying love but they were from his mother. Luckily they weren't scented.
    Up until the visit to Villa Adriana, apart from the training Toni and Lucio had almost felt like tourists.
'Italy is such a beautiful country. Everywhere you look there is something,' Lucio was reading a guide book and started talking about studying Archeology when they returned home.
    'Well the Romans certainly did all the hard work for us,' Toni grinned at his friend. 'I think you'd be interested in the Etruscans Lucio, I'll lend you a book about the Necropolis at Tarquinia'.
     Their conversation was interrupted by a shout from a young skinny boy from Milan.
    'We're off lads. They're sending us to Maddaloni tomorrow ready to embark for Africa next week.'
    All thoughts of studying and home were put aside, they were on their way.
 
    Maddaloni was a lovely town built on a hill near Caserta, from there they were taken to Naples and marched onto their ship.
    As they left the port, Toni looked at the spectacular view of Mount Vesuvius in the distance. Lucio came up to him looking nervous.
    'Well Toni, this is it. We're following the steps of our forefathers, Hadrian and Caesar.'
    Toni thought how his father would laugh if he heard that.     
    He took one last look at his homeland laying there before him in the setting sun and followed Lucio to their bunks.

xxxxxxxxxxx
 
    Africa, December 1935
 
     The Field Hospital was full of wounded soldiers. Toni didn't dare lie down in case the sickness came over him again. His temperature was still very high and he couldn't stop shaking. His eyes were glued together. He felt terrible. Physically he was so weak he could hardly stand up and had to rely on the auxiliaries for everything. He just couldn't remember what it felt like to feel normal and his father's words kept ringing in his ears. He didn't even know what he had been fighting for.
    Most of all he felt wretched and completely useless.
    Just after a week's training Toni had caught the dreaded African sickness. Two men had already died from it in the same room and he felt doomed.
    The doctor came to stand by his bed. He was wearing a mask in the hope of keeping the deadly virus away. The doctor was a kind man from Cosenza. He had served in the Great War on the frontline in the mountains near Toni's home town.
    He spoke softly, occasionally throwing in some words in Toni's local dialect.
    'You're over the worst now Toni. If you can survive the first few days you'll be alright.'
    He paused and cleared his throat, 'You won't be able to fight ever again. This infection leaves a weakness in the stomach that would make military life impossible. Although I don't understand soldiers, you're very brave but I just want to save lives.'
    Toni didn't feel brave and he didn't want to fight any more. He just wanted to cling onto life and go home.
    'Thank you doctor but you're the brave one, not me.'
    The mere effort of talking had worn Toni out and he collapsed against the rough pillow. There was a commotion as a young man was brought in screaming in agony and calling for his Betti. It was Lucio.
Toni turned to the doctor in alarm.
 
    'What's happened to him ? He's my friend from home.'
 
    The doctor shrugged 'He shot himself in the leg.'  He sighed heavily, 'It happens more often than you'd think.'
 
    The doctor walked over to Lucio and whispered some soothing words. Lucio immediately calmed down and looked around the makeshift ward. His haggard, dirty face lit up when he saw Toni but was soon replaced with an expression that looked to Toni like shame.
    'Hi mate, good to see you,' Toni struggled to reassure his friend. 'Welcome to the world of the walking wounded.'
    Lucio pointed to his shattered leg.
    'I'm not walking anywhere right now. What a couple of heroes, eh? Whatever shall I tell Betti?'
    Toni lay back and tried to quell the sickness that was washing over him.
    'No need to tell her anything Lucio. I'm not telling and neither is the doctor. Let's concentrate on getting better.'
    Toni's eyes closed with the effort and he fell into a deep sleep. He dreamed that he was a hero, that he had a pile of scented letters from a girl who adored him. He was walking round Pompeii and impressing her with stories of daring escapades and then he dreamed that he was home. When he awoke he was relieved that the horrible sick feeling had at last disappeared. He looked across at Lucio who was studying the bandages on his leg.
    'I can't wait to draw some funny faces on that.' Toni smiled and Lucio grinned back.
 
 Northern Italy, May 1936   
 
    A few months later, as the train drew into the station the passengers could hear a deafening cheer. They hung out of the windows waving their hats and scanning the crowd for their loved ones.
    Betti was at the front waving a red scarf. Toni could see his mother hovering at the front next to his father. They were standing apart from the screaming girls, their arms round each other. Toni caught his father's eye and saw him lift his hand in a salute. Toni grinned to himself and looked across at Lucio who was struggling with tears. He handed him a handkerchief.
    'Chin up mate, Betti will never know. We're heroes right? Go to your Betti and have a happy life.'

    Later, at home in the kitchen Toni gave his parents the gifts he had brought for them. Some beads for his mother and a leather pouch for his father.
    His mother put her necklace on her and admired herself in the mirror.
    'Lucio looked fit and well. I knew he'd take care of you. Such a brave young man. What a pity he and Betti are going to live in Milan.'
    Toni caught his father's wry glance as he poured himself a glass of wine and raised it to Toni.

    'Welcome home son.'
    He smiled at Toni and for the first time he felt as though his father was proud of him.


 
 









'



Sunday, 18 December 2022

It can be Christmas every day.

    The car park was full and a long queue had formed. Jack turned to his wife Claire and whispered nervously, 'Are you sure we need to do any more shopping for Christmas? I think Father Christmas has already been very generous.'

    Claire glanced at the kids in the back seat and put her finger to her lips. He turned towards her and frowned. Probably she was still feeling a bit hurt by him after last night. He felt uncomfortable at the memory. He had made the mistake of opening their bank statement in the kitchen right as she was trying to feed Sam the baby, while making tea for the three year old twins, Freddy and Hector, and five year old daugther Emma. Claire's hair was in a mess, her face smeared with something orange. He'd glanced at the statement and started to rant about money, Christmas, his parents, and on top of that his horrible childhood Christmas memories. Claire had sat up straighter and stayed very still until he had finished and stomped out of the room, like a grumpy teenager.

    Suddenly, the car in front started to reverse into them and Jack blasted the horn and swore in fear. The car stopped. The twins went into hysterics and tried to repeat what Jack had said. 'Ugger, ugger' they shouted, while Emma giggled. Jack's heart lifted at the sound of his daughter's laughter. Last night while he was going on about all the Christmas expenses, he had turned to see Emma's little face looking worried and he had felt embarressed about his behaviour. He'd always vowed that he would never argue in front of his children. Memories of his parents constant rowing and bickering still distressed him.

    Claire put  the twins favourite Cd in the car radio and the kids started up a rousing chorus of 'Jingle bells'. She put her hand on Jack's leg and squeezed it. He immediately felt calmer and realized she had forgiven him and he turned to smile at her. One of the many things he loved about her, was her amazing ability to stay calm and speak with kindness.

    'Look! There's a space daddy,' Emma shouted and the twins started chanting 'Space daddy, space daddy, we're going to the moon.'

    Jack swung into the space and tried not to catch the eye of the driver in front who by then had got out of his car and was glaring back at him with a menacing look. 'I was first mate, that was my space.' the man growled.

    Claire as usual came to the rescue with her most winning smile and pointed further along, 'Look, that van's going and leaving a much bigger gap.' she said in a reassuring voice. The man relaxed and smiled back and even waved, 'Merry Christmas!'. Such was the effect of Claire's ways.

    Jack grabbed her hand, 'I'm so sorry about yesterday, please forgive me Claire.' For an answer she planted a kiss full on his lips and the twins made kissing noises and shouted, 'Daddy's eating mummy, yum yum.'


    As soon as they were out of the car, Claire said she was going ahead with Emma and the twins to look at shoes for Emma and would meet him in the cafè in twenty minutes. 

    'Tell you what, darling' said Jack. 'You girls go looking for shoes, while I look after the boys, so you have some quality time together.' 

    'Ok, my love. Are you sure that's not too much for you?' replied Claire eyeing the baby in the buggy and the twins who were running circles around them. Then she smiled and said. 'Well, actually that's a great idea.' while giving him the list of presents to buy at the Perfume counter for his mother and sisters-in-law.

    'Come along boys, let's go'. said Jack as he pushed the buggy into the revolving doors and caught sight of his reflection in the glass. He thought he looked like Father Christmas with his sleigh. He looked quite silly. He was wearing a red hat with a white pom-pom, the twins had reindeer antlers and the baby had a brown teddy bear hat. The twins clung to either side of the buggy and looked around them like two miniature bodyguards daring anyone to touch the baby. Jack manoeuvred them all round to the perfume counter and got out Claire's list.

    In front of him was a tall smartly dressed man with his arms round a stunning blond. She was wearing a short white fur coat and hot pants, sheer tights and black suede stiletto boots. They both turned as Jack reached out to stop the baby from pulling down a display of shiny glass bottles. It was his colleague from London, Matt.

    'Hi Jack, Merry Christmas, I say ho! ho! ho! Have you lost your way? Where have all these children come from? You've been busy.'

    'Hi Matt, very funny, Merry Christmas to you too.'

    Matt put his arm around his companion and beamed at Jack.
    'This is Flora. We're doing our last minute shopping then we're off to the Caribbean for two weeks.'

    Jack gaped as Flora's fur coat fell open to reveal a very low cut top that left nothing to the imagination.
    The twins looked up at him to see what he was staring at.

    'Titty, titty' they shrieked.

    They blew their cheeks out and made loud popping noises.
    The baby tried to join in but only managed a few bubbles.
    Jack put out a restraining hand and stroked the baby's head.

    'I'm meeting Claire in the café would you like to join us?'

    'No thanks Jack, we've got to meet some friends at the Oyster bar and we're already late.'

    There was a loud ripping noise as the baby succeeded in his attempt to tear off a poster showing a beautiful busty blonde and buried his face in the paper cleavage. The twins jumped up and down.

    'Baby Sam kissing lady!'

    The young assistant rushed round to help Jack as he struggled to put the poster back, his hat had fallen off and his thick fair hair tumbled round his face.

    'OOH,  aren't you gorgeous,' she simpered and touched his arm.

    One of the twins took his antlers off and waved them in her face.

    'My daddy, my daddy. Don't touch'.

    She stood up still transfixed by Jack and turned to Matt and Flora.

    'You don't mind if I serve this gentleman first do you? I think he's got his hands full.'

    When Jack had paid for his shopping, he turned to thank Matt and Flora. He was taken aback by the look of admiration on Matt's face and.. could he also detect a hint of envy?     

    Once if he'd been asked he would have gone to the Caribbean for Christmas in a flash. He had hated Christmas as a child, dreaded all the bad will that seemed to surround his parents. When he left school his parents went their separate ways and he always found an excuse to be away for Christmas. 

    Then, a few months ago, thanks to Claire, his parents had come back into his life after years of silence. In the Summer, Claire had invited them to a family gathering. By some miracle they both came, his father from Spain and his mother from Scotland. By the end of the afternoon Emma and his mother were inseparable, sitting together in an armchair and reading fairy tales. His father was pretending to be a lion and chasing the twins, who were giggling hysterically and then climbing all over him, delighted with their new cuddly toy.
    That evening in bed Jack had turned to Claire still stunned by the day's events.
    'How did that happen? What did you do to them? My father laughed more today than during my whole childhood.'

    Claire drew him towards her, 'You always have to give people a second chance. Anyway they're your parents Jack, so they can't be all that bad.' She'd grinned mischievously and tossed her long dark hair over his chest. He felt a quiver at the thought of what had happened next.

    Jack swung the bag of presents onto the handle of the buggy and held his free hand out to Matt and Flora.

    'Gotta go guys. Come round one evening when you get back from the Caribbean. Claire would love to see you both.' As he walked away he could see them gaping at him and the kids as if they came from another planet.

    As Jack made his way towards the lift for the café, he paused by the jewelry counter. He knelt down to the twins.

    'Would you like to choose a nice sparkly bracelet for Mummy?'

    They ran to the counter and peered up at the glamorous young assistant.
    Jack quickly pointed to three that he liked and asked her to display them so the twins could choose.

    'This one, daddy, the one with all the hearts,' they both called in unison. They held it out so the baby could see.
    'Sam likes it too. We want that one, and silver paper and a gold ribbon.' The silver bracelet sparked, four little hearts dangling from a delicate chain.

    The young girl smiled at them.

    'Ooh! aren't you just so cute, just like your daddy, really handsome.'

    She gave Jack a sidelong glance and a slow smile.

    'It's perfect for mummy' Jack said  quickly looking at the three boys. 'Four little hearts just like our four little wonderful children.'
Jack paid and went to call the lift. Then he took the children to wash their hands ready for the café. 

    A few weeks ago Claire had suggested that they ask Jack's parents for Christmas. She had it all planned out. Claire's mother had enough room for his parents both to sleep at her house. Emma and the twins could go to the pantomime with them. They could have a party with some of their friends so they could all meet each other. His mother had rung to say how excited she was, she'd had a book made for Emma with her name as the main character, she'd knitted the baby a cardigan and got the twins a train set. Then when she had said,'  Your dad and I really miss you Jack, we're so proud of you, and Claire is just so lovely', he'd had to put the phone down, he couldn't speak because of the lump in his throat.

    The girls and boys working in the café were all dressed in red outfits with matching hats. There was a huge tree in the corner covered with bright coloured twinkly lights. Christmas music was playing and drawing all the customers into a festive atmosphere.
    He could see Claire and Emma sitting at a table near the window. Claire had made it look so inviting and welcoming like she did with everything. There was a highchair for the baby and booster seats for the twins. There was a bag next to Emma with her new shoes. She was looking at her mother with a rapt expression, hanging onto her every word. Jack knew what that felt like, he never tired of staring at Claire's lovely, kind face and listening to her wise and thoughtful conversation.. He moved slowly towards Claire and Emma, enjoying the sight of the two of them sitting there together. Claire wouldn't turn heads like Flora, with her hair scraped back in a pony tail and her jeans and jumper, but he knew what wonders there were underneath. Jack had watched his lovely Claire this morning carefully putting on her red Christmas underwear, he knew later that evening there would be laughing and posing and kisses under the mistletoe that she'd hung above the bed.

    The twins caught sight of Claire and Emma and ran towards them, clambering over the chairs and  climbing over them like two little puppies. Baby Sam waved his hands and blew bubbles. Mariah Carey sang out. Claire looked at Jack, he caught his breath as her face lit up at the sight of him. The waitress came and took their orders and soon they were all covered in hot chocolate and cream and the twins were saying it looked like poo and Emma was showing him her new shoes and Jack's heart swelled. He reached out for Claire's hand, 'It really is christmas every day with you.' and she looked at him with such adoration and love that he felt his heart would burst.












Wednesday, 19 December 2018

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart, Garage friends



The garage seemed so quiet once the Christmas decorations had been taken away.
No more rustling as the tinsel tried to untangle itself and settle in a comfortable position.
No more happy chatter from the baubles as they admired each others reflection.
 No more squeals from the Angel as she struggled to reach the top of the box.
No more joyful tunes from the Father Christmas and the Fairy or merry twinkling from the lights. Everyone felt rather lonely.
The Christmas decorations had promised them all a party on their return and were going to share the chocolates that had been left on the tree. They were all looking forward to this, it had become an annual event.

The Pram moved nearer the High Chair and the Cot. 
The Bicycles leaned against each other and the Skis slid closer to the sledge.
The  silence was broken by the Keyboard who played a few notes from Jingle Bells. The Doll swayed in time to the music.

'My favourite song,' she sighed, 'It's the one that was playing when I was taken out of my box. Oh how lovely that was. I was held up and swung around and admired. Then I was cuddled and put in a soft blanket. I sat in pride of place on a little pink chair. i was carried around everywhere. You wouldn't believe the places I've been. Oh what a pity it all had to end. Shelley didn't want me anymore. She grew up.'

 Her voice broke then and a tear slid down her cheek. The Teddy put his arm round her.

'Don't worry Doll you've got me, we'll be fine.'

The Pram spoke up.

'Yes you'll be fine, we all will. On my travels I often heard tales about  new homes for toys, where you'll be loved and looked after.  High Chair, Cot and me have been to lots of  homes already. We are always made so welcome.'

Everyone looked at the Pram.  His travels were famous. He told them all such stories,  They never knew whether to believe him or not. He was the only one that had been on adventures. The Cot and the High Chair always stayed behind.  The Bicycles rang their bells. They were new and no-one knew what to make of them.

'We've been on lots of adventures too. We can tell you lots of stories. '

Just then the garage door opened and knocked one of the wheels of the Pram.
There was a lot of noise of puffing and panting  as though something very heavy was being dragged along the floor.

'I don't remember leaving the pram there. By the way Shelley says she'd be glad of the pram, the high chair and the cot for the new baby. She might like her old doll and the teddy  too.  There they are . They're both in good nick, Shelley always looked after her toys so nicely.


'I can't wait to go out on our new bikes, as soon as we come back from skiing we'll go on a bike ride with the girls.'

'Hey dad, there's my old keyboard. I'll give little Phil lessons shall I? It's perfect for beginners. Now where shall we put these encyclopedias?'

'Over there near that old trunk. After Christmas I'm going to clear that out. I don't even know what's in it.  Grandpa's things from the war.'

There was more shuffling and then the door slammed shut.

A cheer broke out  and there was lots of excited chatter.

'We're going to a new home. There's a new baby. we'll be all together. Shelley wants us back.'

'We're going on an adventure.'

'We're going skiing,'

'Now everybody remember your manners,' the Pram took charge.
'Let's welcome the newcomers, the encyclo whatsits.'

There was a long silence. Then a deep low voice rang out.

'We are Encyclopedias. We have never been put in a garage before. It is most humiliating for us.  There are forty of us and in our volumes there is contained all that it is necessary to know. Every one of our pages is precious and useful. We know everything.'

'OOh,' cried the Doll. 'Maybe you can tell us what's in the trunk. We opened it up once but the things in it didn't want to come out.'

'Of course we can. Let's have a look.'

'Wait a minute,' shouted the Pram. 'if you know everything and are so important why have they put you here with us?'

'I know.' the Keyboard interrupted. 'It's those computers isn't it?  The same thing happened to me. They're real show-offs. Always going on about how sleek and smart they are and how no-one can manage without them. They play music all by themselves and know everything.'

'No they don't. We do  We know everything. We do we do.' The encyclopedias sounded angry.

The Pram, sensing a difficult situation, rolled towards the trunk.

'Come on please tell us what these things are.'

They all peered inside.

'Oh this is so easy,' said the O to  S volume.
 ' That's an oil lamp to show the way when it's dark.. Next to it that's a sword, a ceremonial sword to wear in a parade. That's a pistol and that's a revolver.'

The A to C volume took over. 'There's a bayonet and a cutlass.'

The L to  N volume  called out, 'There's a musket and a lance, and some medals.'


The Doll started to cry.

'I'm frightened, I don't like these things.'

The Teddy walked towards the Encyclopedias. He drew himself up to his full height. The red satin heart embroidered on his chest gleamed in the darkness.

'Ok we get the picture. You know everything. I'm sure you know lots of nice things.  Maybe you could tell us something else, like a nice Bedtime story now.'

'I'm good at that.' called out Volume  A to C. 'I like Bedtime stories.  Once upon a time ...'

 There was a sudden crash and the door opened again.

the two boys came back in.

'I told you we shouldn't have brought the encyclopedias down. Grandpa only believes them. He doesn't trust computers. Every Christmas it's the same. He wants to play all those general Knowledge board games and quizzes and only he knows the answers. Did you see his face when Mum said that a musket was a Sicilian wine and a bayonet a French dessert? '

' By the way he told me to donate the contents of that old trunk to the museum. I wonder what's in it. Just a lot of junk if you ask me. Things to do with the war he's always going on about.'

' Now what was it that he wanted to look up?  He always wins everything, every Christmas. I think they taught things differently when he was at school. He's eighty-eight can you believe it? He knows more than any of us.'

The garage fell quiet once the encyclopedias had been dragged out. The Teddy broke the silence.

'There you are, we're all still useful. We'll be loved again.'

The Doll put her hand on his arm and gazed at him, an adoring look on her face.'

'You know more than all those encyclopedias put together.'

The Pram, the Cot and the Highchair broke out in a cheer.

'Merry Christmas everyone.'













Tuesday, 18 December 2018

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart, Colin's quiz

Now here's a thought.'
 Colin  cut a  neat square from his steak, speared it with his fork and held it up to admire it before popping it in his mouth. A blissful expression came over his face.

'Oh That's better, just what I needed.  A Vegetarian Christmas isn't for me.'

Adam grinned at him.
 'Go on Dad, you were tucking into that Nut roast , I saw you having second helpings. Anyway what were you going to say?'

'I was thinking about the Ozone layer and Climate change and if it's true that cows cause a lot of the problem, because if that's the case maybe we should be eating more of them. These vegetarians might be barking up the wrong tree.'

Adam took a sip of his beer and sat back in his chair. He always loved listening to his dad, he always had something to say, a proper opinion on everything. He wasn't always conventional and got himself into arguments with his often quite outrageous views but he was guaranteed to liven up any conversation.

'I've organized a great quiz for the party this evening. Really tough questions.'

Colin  loved preparing quizzes and had been organizing the quizzes for the local pub ever since Adam was a boy.  They would often go together and Adam would watch in awe as his dad reeled off the questions with the confidence  of an Oxford don.

Colin pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket.

'Look at this Adam, you know how I used to love going to bingo with your mum. It seems you're not allowed to say two fat ladies anymore. You have to say two alternatively shaped people..'

Adam spluttered into his beer,

'You're having me on dad. What about 'legs eleven' seventy seven'? That's probably two daring. Should be alright with all the ducks though.'

Colin threw his head back and laughed. Adam looked at him, his heart bursting with love.

'Well dad, thanks for coming to us for Christmas. It means a lot to Holly and me. Mum said she might come by for the party. Is that alright with you?'.

Colin broke off a piece of bread and wiped his plate clean. He picked up his beer and raised his glass to Adam..

' If it's what you want son, I'll be on my best behaviour. Maybe I can throw in some questions that she might like.'

They ordered their coffees and sat in companionable silence.  Adam saw his next door neighbour at the bar and called him over.

'Hi Fergie this is my dad, he's staying with us for Christmas.'

Fergie put out his hand.

'Nice to meet you. I'm organizing a special New Year pub quiz. I had no idea it would be so difficult to compile questions for everybody. Would you like to put your names down.'?'

'Yeah sure,' Adam smiled.' Put down Colin and Adam, we'll enter as a team. My dad's great at preparing pub quizzes if you want any help.'

'I might just take you up on the offer , thanks.'

Fergus patted Colin on the shoulder and  went back to the bar.

While Adam went to pay the bill Colin pulled out his quiz sheet to go over his questions for the party.
 He had always had a thirst for knowledge and prided himself on being kept up- to- date with current affairs, music, art, cinema, sport, General Knowledge, World affairs. He saw it as a personal challenge. Colin had left school with no qualifications at all.

Looking back, he could see that all his energy had gone into coping with his home life. First his mother had died, he couldn't even remember her. Then his father had re-married when Colin was six.  His step-mother was cold and strict and when his brother Ian was born the contrast between her attitudes to the two boys was painfully evident. Colin felt like a character in a Dickens novel.

Colin's father pretended not to notice. He was just grateful to have a hot meal in the evening. Colin was soon in with the wrong crowd at school, the ones that were considered difficult and the wilder he got the more cruel his step mother became. His little brother adored him though and he was the only bright spot in a bleak existence.

When Colin met Elaine he asked her to marry him after one month. He was working for the Gas board, laying down pipes and had enough money to put a deposit on a house. Elaine came from a troubled family, one of her brothers had been in prison and her father had a heavy hand. Elaine and her mother often had bruises on their arms. Colin  and  Elaine had clung to each other like two shipwrecked castaways.

When Adam was born they had lavished love and affection on him determined he would never suffer like they had.  Adam was an easy-going affable child right from the start, popular at school and with a love of theatre. He had made a career building stage sets and working with the big tour companies.

Adam came back to the table with their coats.

'I think we'd better be getting back dad, Holly needs me to help with the drinks.'

'Thanks Adam that was a real treat. You're a good son, the best. Your mum and I have always been proud of you.'

Adam held out Colin's coat.

'You were always great parents too . Aww aren't we just a soppy pair. Come on.'

The car was covered in ice and they sat with the heater on waiting for the windows to clear.

'You know dad, I've learned a lot from Holly. Her dad Joe ran off when she was eight. Her mum was heartbroken but she never said a bad word about him to Holly. She said that if you love your children then you love their mum or dad. She told Holly a few years ago that she realized that she had neglected Joe and had practically pushed him into the other woman's arms. She had always preferred sitting at home watching television and it was her who  told him to take her friend Julie to the cinema or the pub. There's always two sides to every story.'

'I don't think I've got anything to blame myself for. I've always tried so hard to provide for you and your mum. It's not my fault I lost my job, it's all these cuts.'

'Yes dad and you did us proud. What I'm trying to say is that love and forgiveness are all that matters. We all make mistakes, we all get things wrong, but we all need love and forgiveness.'

There was a silence. Adam was about to say that maybe his dad had let himself go a bit, not getting up till the afternoon, not shaving and walking around in his underwear, then he decided it might be too hurtful and anyway thanks to Holly his dad looked a lot smarter these days.

Adam turned to his dad. Holly had cut his dad's hair and trimmed his beard specially for Christmas. She had told him that she needed the practise for the theatre where she worked as a make-up artist. She had bought him some new aftershave and a blue jumper that she said matched his eyes. He looked quite handsome and distinguished with his greying hair and the jumper hid his slight paunch.

'I know the last few years have been tough for you dad, losing your job and then mum having the affair, and then moving into a bedsit now the house is being sold, but look at all the good things. Your brother adores you and so do I and so does Holly. Everyone in your local pub brightens up when you walk in, you're warm - hearted and caring and funny.'

'Hey stop it, you'll have me in tears, a grown man like me. Anyway isn't it me that should being saying those things to you?'

Colin had been an amateur boxer in his twenties and had had the bone removed from his nose. He pulled out a tissue and dabbed at his eyes.

'Thanks son, let's get to the party, who's gonna be there anyway?'

'There will be Holly's mum with her new partner, a Polish plumber called Malek, Holly's dad with his third wife Sheila and her son Tommy from her first husband, then Holly's brother Mikey and his girlfriend Ana from Romania, then two friends of Ana that have come over for the holidays. They're all bringing something that's traditional from their country, should be fun.'

Colin smiled at his son,

 'You know, I'm beginning to feel excited, can't remember when I last felt like this.'

As they parked in front of the house, Adam felt a warm glow at the thought of Holly waiting for him inside. They had been living together for almost a year and this was their first Christmas. He had been designing stage sets at the theatre where she worked. By the time he had finished they were inseparable.

 He could see the lights on the tree and the glow of the fire, Christmas music was playing and he made a wish that life could always be like this for them. He opened the car door for his father. Trying to keep his voice steady and neutral he whispered in his father's ear.

'By the way dad, Mum told me that it's over between her and that doctor. He's gone back to Australia. He asked her to go with him but she didn't want to go.'

Colin stopped abruptly. Adam could hear his sharp intake of breath. He felt a surge of hope. If only his dad could just bring himself to forgive and let his mum know how much he loved her still.

The party was a huge success. Holly and  Adam looked round at all their guests. They  were all  so relaxed and happy.  Everyone had been chatting and laughing and joining in all the games as though they had been  friends for years. The Romanian Christmas cake had all been eaten and the recipe passed round. Holly stood up and handed everyone a piece of paper and a pencil.

'Now we're going to have Colin's special Christmas quiz.'

Colin cleared his throat.

'This has been an eventful year for most of us, but then all years are I suppose. Sometimes major events occur, weddings, divorces, moving house, changing jobs, moving to another country and they all are a challenge. Sometimes nothing much seems to happen but we all know how much effort is involved in just keeping the status quo.'

Malek yawned and Ana giggled. Elaine gave them a stern look. She put her hand on Colin's arm and when she spoke her voice was full of care.

'Go on Colin that's a lovely speech.''

Adam handed him a glass of wine,

'Yeah da, but on with the questions  we're all longing to hear what you've got up your sleeve.'

Colin took a sip of the wine.

'Ok pencils ready everyone.

number one, 'What is the capital of Romania'
number two' 'What is the  name of the river that runs through Warsaw.''

number three' Who won X Factor?'
number four' 'Who won the World cup in Russia?
number five  'What is the name of the last Romanian king?'

Adam felt tears come to his eyes and went to the kitchen to make some tea.
His father had such a kind heart. He knew this wasn't the quiz that had been prepared. His dad always delighted on stumping everyone, but today he must have instinctively felt there was a need for some light relief.

Adam went back in to see everyone furiously scribbling away, so happy to know all the answers. Colin was looking at Elaine.

'And here is the last question, for someone special, What was the name of Bryan Adams' 1993 hit?'

Elaine giggled, jumped up and clapped her hands. She grabbed a candy umbrella from the tree and held it like a microphone.

'Please forgive me - she sang, then, looking straight at Colin she continued - I can't stop loving you'.

She threw her arms around  Colin. Everyone clapped. Holly put on the Cd that Colin had given her. Ana and her friends joined in with the chorus. They said Bryan Adams was their favourite singer.

After they had all counted their scores and decided that really there was no clear winner and they could start watching the Christmas DVD that Holly had ready, Adam took Colin aside.

'You can keep your quiz for the next evening at the pub dad. You've worked wonders. Mum looks about twenty, look at  her. She really does love you. Make sure you don't mess it up this time. It won't always be easy. You'll still hurt and feel resentful sometimes but remember, love and forgiveness.'
  

              XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hope you like this story and maybe it will make you want to prepare your own quiz for your family and friends.
Here are the answers to Colin's quiz.


1.    Bucharest
2     Vistula

4     France
5      King Michael







'

Sunday, 16 December 2018

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart. Listening to Ken



It was such a pleasure to have someone wanting to hear what he had to say. Someone completely focused on him, gazing at him as though he was the most fascinating man in the world.
 Sally was giving him all her attention. She looked rapt, eager, totally enthralled.
 He noticed how her beautiful green eyes were speckled with gold. She was looking at him with such  kindness he felt a shiver go down his spine.
Sally took hold of his hand. Her voice was low and full of care when she spoke,

‘It’s wonderful to be with you on your birthday Ken. I can’t believe you’re eighty- eight. You must have been a real heartbreaker. Believe me you’ve still got what it takes.’

Ken gulped. He felt himself redden. He wasn’t used to compliments and he’d never been a talker. Always kept himself to himself.

 Ken had always been the listener in the family.

 'Oh Ken is such a good listener, you can always rely on him to listen to you.'

Marjorie was very fond of telling her friends this.

 Right from the beginning of their marriage they had chosen their roles, Marjorie was the talker and Ken was the listener.

Often though Ken wasn't listening at all. He heard Marjorie ask him if she looked better in the green skirt or the black trousers and would say they both looked nice. Then he would hear her talk about the W.I and the old man who fell over in the car park and the man with his bonfire that made her friend Barbara's washing smell of smoke. She’d natter away about the price of things in the supermarket and who she’d seen in the hairdressers and he would smile at her, happy to hear her voice.He heard everything she said  but he wasn't listening, he was thinking and worrying about his job or his health or the bills, and lately he was thinking a lot about their daughter Jessie.

He realized that Sally was still looking at him and smiling.

 'Ken you look so handsome today, your blue tie matches your eyes perfectly.'

Ken felt himself blush again and hoped she hadn’t  noticed.

Jessie had blue eyes just  like him, and dark curly hair like Marjorie. People used to stop and admire Jessie when they pushed her around in her pram as a baby. She had grown up into such a beautiful young woman, apart from her colouring taking after neither of her parents. People often remarked how incredible it was that Ken and Marjorie had got such a beautiful, bright daughter. Ken and Marjorie were too proud of Jessie to ever take offence. Jessie was the sunshine in their lives. What might have been quite a dull and ordinary marriage blossomed with their love for their daughter.

Then in the Spring Jessie had announced that she was going to Australia for a year with a scholarship from the university where she worked. Ken and Marjorie stared at each other in dismay, anxiety all over their faces. What would they do without the weekly visits, the phone calls and the Sunday lunches.
What if she met someone there and settled all the way on the other side of the world?

Sally was handing him a cup of tea and held his hand. He realized that a tear was falling from his eye. He must give Sally his full attention.

Ken and Marjorie had taken Jessie to the airport and waved until she disappeared, neither daring to look at the other in case they broke down. It felt like a light had been switched off in their lives.
They tried to learn to use the Skype and the Facebook and all the other gadgets that Jessie had left them. It helped, but it wasn't the same. They both longed to hear her key in the door, her cheerful 'It's me, I'm home, ' that had been music to their ears all these years.

Then in the Summer she told them that she'd met someone, a doctor working on her research team. He was Australian and she felt like he was the one. She'd bring him with her in the Spring when she came back for a short holiday. Ken and Marjorie's friends thought this was very exciting and told them they should organize a holiday to Australia, it wasn't far away really, lots of people went to live there, it was nothing. It didn't feel like nothing to Ken and Marjorie.

Ken became aware that Sally was stroking his arm, looking at him with pleading eyes.

'Come on Ken, tell me something, something I'd like to hear. It's nearly Christmas. It's your birthday.'

Ken took a deep breath, then his words came out in a rush. A tumbling of hard to distinguish sounds, at first incoherent and then crystal clear ringing out around the room.

'My daughter's coming home for Christmas.'

Everyone in the room clapped and beamed at Ken. Sally stood up and cheered.
They all knew what an effort that was. The speech therapy sessions for stroke victims was the best place for Ken to make his announcement.

                                  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Monday, 22 December 2014

A Change of Heart



The Perfume counter was right in front of the revolving doors. Customers, on entering the store, were hit by a tantalizing mix of exotic spices and floral aromas to lure them towards the counter. Once there,  they were surrounded by  a dazzling array of posters showing beautiful women on the arms of handsome elegant men. 

The perfumes were displayed like potions with the  promise that whoever wore this or that perfume  would be transported to a magical kingdom of seduction and elegance. 

Gemma raised her wrist to her nose and breathed in the heady mix of vanilla and patchouli that Max had chosen for her.  It was an early birthday present. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with her friend Marsha at lunch time. They were sharing a croissant and as Marsha brushed the crumbs away she had leaned forward and  whispered;-

' Gemma have you ever noticed how many men buy two bottles of the same perfume.? Don't you think it's funny? Maybe it's one for the wife and one for the lover, so as not to get caught out.'

Gemma felt herself redden. Was it possible that Marsha knew Max was married? She shrugged in response to Marsha's question and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.


She pushed back her chair and stood up and turned back to Marsha.

'If a man has a lover then he wouldn't be in love with his wife any more would he? He wouldn't care what she thought.'

'Oh don't you believe it Gemma. It's all about having your cake and eating it with them isn't it?  Some of them are full of  baloney, just like the perfume ads, they have the gift of the gab all right.We watched 'Love Actually' last night for the umpteenth time and I told Mike that if he'd better not ever buy me a CD, poor Emma Thompson, I cry every time I watch that scene. It doesn't take much to tempt a man you know. I've seen so much heartache caused by broken relationships. Personally I can't understand why a woman would want to steal someone else's man, but there you are.'

Gemma felt very uncomfortable. She'd watched 'Love Actually last night too, wrapped in Max's arms. He'd kissed her long and hard and promised he'd leave his wife straight after his son's birthday.  gemma had been seeing Max for almost two years now. A weekend away once a month and snatched evenings when he told his wife he was working late. He'd promised to take gemma to Scotland for her birthday and he would tell his wife he wanted a divorce.

Gemma realized that Marsha was still talking.

'How are you getting on with your course? I think you'll be a great Nursery teacher. My little Sam adores you. It's Auntie Gemma this and Auntie Gemma that. He'll be going to Nursery school in September.  If you hurry up you'll be in time to teach him.'



Gemma noticed an elegant couple approach and went to serve them. The man was very tall and had thick dark curly hair, a bit like Max. How she loved running her fingers through his hair and looking at the way it curled over at the base of his neck. She shivered with excitement just thinking about it. The young woman was tall and blond with a very low cut top and a white fur wrap. Just as she was about to serve them, a very handsome man  pushing a baby and holding on to two little boys  collided into a large poster of a beautiful woman. Gemma went to help and then served the man who looked quite relieved. As he walked away she thought how lucky his wife was and how she would love a family like that.

When she'd finished serving the couple she thought about Marsha's advice. It was true that she'd been really enjoying the  Childcare and Nursery teaching course. She had always loved being around little children. Her sister was ten years younger than her   and she had  looked after her while her mother went out to work.  Gemma had  taken the job at the Perfume counter to help finance her studies and that's where she had met Max. He had looked so lost and helpless trying to find  a perfume for his grandmother.  When Gemma had suggested Old English Lavender he had been so grateful and asked  if he could take her out for a drink to show his appreciation.

The next thing she knew she was inviting him in to the flat which she shared with two other girls. It had all been so exciting. He was so much more sophisticated than the other boys she'd dated. He knew how to order the right wine in the fancy restaurants they went to, and he took her to the opera and the ballet in London.  By the time Gemma had  found out that Max was married she was completely obsessed with him. He reassured her immediately saying how his wife only thought about their two small boys and her job in the hospital. He was on his own all the time and it was over between them.  Gemma believed him and was determined to make up for all the neglect he had suffered from his wife. 

Marsha walked by and helped herself to a free spray of J.Lo's new perfume from the bottle on the display.

'Would you like to come to us this evening Gemma? I've made a cake and  Mike's going out to watch the match in his brother's new man-cave.. We could watch a  film and maybe let Sam stay up a bit as a treat.'

Gemma picked up a glass bottle and dusted it with a cloth.

'I think Max is coming to pick me up and then we were going to....'

She stopped, not really wanting to say what they were going to do.  Just lately they'd done nothing but go back to her room. A strange feeling came over her, she felt cheap and used. It wasn't a nice feeling at all. She looked at Marsha and took a deep breath.

'That sounds nice Marsha, thank you. Maybe I could give Sam his bath and read him a bedtime story. It would be good for my training.' She smiled  at Marsha as she moved away and then started to tidy up the  counter. She didn't see Marsha 's grin and victory sign.

A voice whispered in her ear, low and deep. Yesterday it would have sent a shiver of excitement down her spine but today it made her feel sad and lonely.

'Hello young lady, could you please help me choose a perfume for my poor old grandmother. I' d be ever so grateful.'

Gemma turned to Max with a bright smile.

'Sorry Sir but it's closing time.' His brow furrowed and he looked puzzled at her brisk tone. He put his arms out and she stepped back

' By the way which  is your wife's favourite perfume ?''

The silence that followed and the embarrassed look on Max's face told her all that she needed to know.

Monday, 15 December 2014

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart, Nina



A cold gust of wind blew along the street, bringing the last few wayward leaves to order. They scuttled into a corner near the ice-cream shop and crowded into a heap as though they were trying to keep warm. Nina kicked them gently with her worn ankle boots, an old childhood habit. She caught sight of her reflection in the window. Her slight figure and neat bob belied her years. She could have passed for a young girl. She sighed and dug her hands deep into her pockets to try and keep them warm. ,She had come out of the factory to do some quick Christmas shopping and hadn't realized how cold it was. The sky was ominously grey and the nearby mountains were no longer visible. Nina walked on to the new emporium that had just opened up, maybe she could get all her presents there. She passed the Florists and paused to admire the lavish display of Christmas compositions. The young girl Giada who worked there was putting some finishing touches to the display of holly and mistletoe centre pieces.

' Did you have a nice birthday? Did you like the roses? Your husband said he's been sending you roses for forty years now. I think it's so romantic.' Giada beamed.

'Oh yes they were beautiful. Thank you. I like the silver glitter too, makes them look very festive.'

Nina walked on thinking about the roses. She had never got over the disappointment of that day all those years ago, when she had just left school. Fulvio had arrived at her house with his small cinquecento overflowing with roses. He had bowed low in a dramatic gesture and told her they were for her and could he take her out. Her mother and sisters had gasped and simpered and ran to tell her father. It was only when they had been married some years that he admitted that the roses were in fact free. His friend Marco grew flowers for the local market and had given him the first crop which would otherwise have been thrown away.
Now every year on her birthday Nina reminded him of this. Yesterday when he came in with her birthday roses she had put them in a vase without looking at him and mumbled

'What's the use of all these roses, they only last a couple of days.'

She didn't see the hurt look on his face as he left the room.

Nina walked past the war memorial. It was covered with garlands and red ribbons, damp and faded now after the November commemoration service. She looked at the familiar surnames engraved on the stone. Most of the family names of her small Northern Italian town were written there. Her mother's brother and her father's cousins, her uncle's best friend, not one family had been untouched. The same names were above the shop fronts and on the local builder's and plumber's vans and in the classroom registers. They told a story of sacrifice and survival. This Winter the mountains would soon be dotted with colourful skiers who would drink mulled wine and hot chocolate when darkness fell, but a hundred years ago there was quite a different scene up there. The soldiers in their dugouts would have watched gun fire light up the moonlit sky and sat shivering and frightened in their greatcoats waiting for dawn.
Whenever Nina and her sisters had sulked or threw tantrums because their clothes weren't washed or their hair was a mess or their boyfriends had left to work in Milan, their mother would point to the war memorial and remind them of the sacrifice that had been made so they could be free.

Nina turned as someone called her name. It was her neighbour Sandra coming out of the perfume shop clutching a whole array of gift-wrapped parcels.

'Oh Nina how nice to see you out and about, have you got time for a coffee''

Nina smiled at her . She liked Sandra. She had been her eldest son's Italian teacher and had given reassurance and comfort when Nina had despaired of her son ever passing his exams. He was now a confident young man in charge of the commercial side of the business and a devoted husband and father, but it had been a hard struggle for Nina..

'Thank you Sandra, I'd love to, I'll do my shopping first though because I've only got an hour.'

?I'll be in the café in twenty minutes then,who gets there first can order.'

Sandra left behind a waft of perfume, she must have been trying the samples. Nina pulled a strand of hair under her nose to see if the minestrone smell had gone. She seemed to smell of vegetable soup all the time. She was forever making soups and stews in the little kitchen at the factory for her son and daughter and the grandchildren. Most days there were six or seven people sitting round the small table. Nina was so tired. She had too much to do. She was a mother, a grandmother, an accountant, a cook and a cleaner.She hadn't been on holiday with Fulvio for years. She couldn't think of the future. She tried to take one day at a time.

Nina went into the emporium with a heavy heart. She greeted the young Romanian girl, Dana, who was married to Giacomo, who worked in the factory.
There was a mirror above the till and for a moment Nina didn't recognize the woman who stared back at her. How had she got so old? Where had all the years gone? Deep furrows on her brow and at the sides of her mouth gave her a permanently anxious look. She felt drab and grey and colourless.

 Dana smiled at her.
'What beautiful blue eyes you have got, you should wear blue to bring them out, we've got some new blouses in just the right shade, they're at the back on the left.'

'I've come to buy presents for other people no time to think of me.'

 Nina then felt ashamed then at her dismissive tone. Dana was probably only trying to be  kind. Giacomo was one of the best workers at the factory.
 She went to the back of the shop to search for gifts. This year had been the worst ever for the factory. Her husband had struggled to keep his forty employees working seven days a week. He was determined not to let any of them down. The markets had changed so much.  After the glorious sixties when their small region had exported as much as the whole of Greece, they were now having to compete with China and it seemed like a losing battle.
 Nina stopped in front of some pretty red nighties with fur trim. There had never been anything like that in the shops when she was young and it was too late now. Fulvio was so tired in the evenings that he went to sleep on the sofa. She would find him in the morning with the television still on. She couldn't remember the last time that she had woken up to find his warm body pressed against hers.

 Dana came up to her.
'Aren't they pretty? I've sent some home to my mother. You can be sort of Mother Christmas. There's one left in your size.'

Nina studied Dana's face. Was she making fun of her or did she really think she could wear one of those flimsy things? There was a strange flutter in her stomach at the thought. What would Fulvio say? She thought of the roses and wished she had shown some enthusiasm.
 Dana was pulling out some boxes.
'Here we are, this is perfect for you. Turn the lights down low and put on some nice romantic music.'

Nina stopped herself laughing as she saw the expression on Dana's face. She really was serious. On an impulse Nina hugged her.

'Thank you Dana, I'll take one and a blue blouse too. I'll come back tomorrow for the presents.'

 Dana gift- wrapped the red nightie saying it was her present to Nina. She knew it had been a hard year. Nina looked at herself in the mirror again. She couldn't stop smiling, was it her imagination or did she look younger, lighter. Her blue eyes shone brightly like a sudden patch of blue sky breaking through the clouds on a rainy day. As she crossed the square to meet Sandra she felt like a teenager planning a date for the evening. Maybe she could ask for some perfume samples.She imagined herself dancing with one of the roses between her teeth. It was as though something had opened up inside her letting in light and new possibilities.

 She would still take each day as it comes, but today was going to be really special.





Friday, 12 December 2014

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart. Threads of gold



The snowfall during the night had completely covered the For Sale sign.
Jilly went to brush it away, but her gloved hand hovered in mid air. Just for a moment longer she wanted to look at the house as her home.

 She looked up at the beautiful bow window where her dressing table had been. She had sat there brushing her dark brown curly hair and putting kohl eyeliner round her beautiful brown eyes thousands of times. Their first party, back from the honeymoon and eager to have their friends round as a married couple. The house had seemed far too big for a young couple but Tom had inherited it along with the business from his parents. It was her refuge after her traumatic miserable childhood, at last a haven. Tom wanted  four children and lots of animals. It had been so exciting knowing that they would close the door at the end of the evening and go up to their bedroom, freshly decorated by Tom . She had bought a new pink satin baby doll for the occasion. Carole King had been singing on the radio, 'Tapestry'. She'd loved that song , she'd never really listened to the words just let herself be cradled by the soft melody. She only knew the first few lines.

My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue,
An everlasting vision of the ever-changing view
A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold
A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold.

Jilly walked across the garden enjoying the crunchy noise her boots made in the snow. She looked up at her son Ben's bedroom window. No-one who met him now, a charming dedicated vet with a busy practise in Exeter, could possibly guess what a difficult baby and toddler he had been. All those sleepless nights, his terrible colic and then his learning difficulties that were due to an undiagnosed hearing problem. It had been a challenge for them both, left on their own all the time. She had poured all her patience and humour into bringing him up. His love of animals had saved them both, the little dogs and cats that had been a constant source of joy, hamsters, guinea pigs, they had loved them all. Tom was so busy at work, often travelling away from home for weeks on end, when he came home tired and exhausted she had always tried to create a happy atmosphere to make him want to come back, it seemed that she had spent her whole marriage worrying about losing him.

 Jilly stood still breathing in the crisp air and savouring the tingling sensation on her cheeks. She looked at the flower bed where all their various pets had found a final resting place. She thought of the baby she had lost before Ben was born, maybe that's why she had had so much patience with him, she felt so lucky to have him. Her phone rang startling the few birds who were looking for food in the garden hedge. It was Tom.

'I'm nearly there now, won't be long, sorry I'm late.'

It was a sort of mantra that she had heard so many times when he was away on his trips. She replied as she always had,

'That's alright, take your time, I'll be waiting, love you.''

With a sigh she walked up to the kitchen window and peered in. How many times had she sought solace at the large oak table, going through the motions of putting the kettle on and making tea, her mother's  solution to all problems.. When she'd lost the baby, when her mother had died, when her father had told her that he was off to live in Scotland with a girl from work, and whenever Tom rang to tell her time and time again that he wouldn't  be home after all, he would be late, something had cropped up, he had to stay overnight.

The phone rang again, this time it was her friend Cathy.

'Hey there Jilly, all ok? Your bed's all ready and I've made a Thai curry.'

'Thanks Cathy, 8 o clock ok for you?'

'Great,, and I've got a dvd for us to watch.'

Jilly  shivered as a few snowflakes started to fall. This was going to be another white Christmas.
She thought how different it would be this year and felt an unexpected thrill of excitement. She started humming Carole King's song.

When Ben had left to go to uni she had gone to the doctor thinking she had empty nest syndrome. She was crying all the time and felt like a black cloud was hanging over her. Without looking up the doctor scribbled a prescription for some pills. Then two years ago a new doctor had taken his place. He suggested that Jilly could talk to someone  and stop taking the pills.
The next thing she knew she was sitting in a comfortable armchair talking to a well-groomed young woman called Mary. Through a mist of tears Jilly told her all about her childhood, how she had had to act as go-between with her angry aggressive father and her mum who never had the strength to do any housework or put a hot meal on the table. How she had hoped to have such a wonderful marriage and family with Tom, but he was always away and she was so afraid he would leave her, about coping on her own with her son Ben, about her disappointment at having left school at fifteen with no qualifications, .
Mary made her a cup of tea. She listened carefully but didn't say much. It was only afterwards on the way home that she switched the radio on and there was Carole King. At that moment she saw her life as a shining gem radiating energy and possibility that no-one but she would ever possess no matter what its deficiencies. Her relationship with Tom and her own father might have cracked but perhaps new pathways could be navigated, winding their way round the obstacles and forging better ones.
That evening she told Tom that she loved him , she only wanted him, and did he want her still ?
He looked at her in amazement.

'You see Tom I was listening to 'Tapestry' and I thought of something I read once, I think it's by St.Paul. He says our lives are like a tapestry.. At the moment we can only see the broken threads, the loose ends, the bits where the colour changes and the slipped stitches, but one day it will be turned over and then it will be  a picture and I want mine to be a good one.'

Tom's mouth hung open.

' Ben is opening an animal sanctuary with Misha his girlfriend and says I could work there. There's a cottage for sale nearby. This house is too big for us and I feel lonely being so much on my own. I' d like to see a new family living here. It needs to be filled with laughter and muddy football boots and loud music coming from the bedrooms.'

Tom put his arms round her.

'Jilly, you and Ben are all my world. It's you that have kept me going all these years. I know it's been hard for you but I couldn't have done it without you. Ben told me about the animal sanctuary and I think it's a great idea. I'm looking into early retirement. We'll have a new start.'
He kissed her tenderly.
 I want to be the star of your tapestry, I want to be a golden thread. We'll make it magnificent.'
He kissed her again. This time with all the passion of a new love as though they had met for the first time and were drawn by an irresistible attraction. Then he drew back and wiped away a tear from her cheek.

' We'll find a nice family to carry on the torch here,'

Jilly hugged him tight and tried to stop the tears. Tom held her away from him and he saw her as the lovely young woman who had sat at the dressing table on the night of their first party. He grinned at her.

'Have you still got that pink baby doll ?'

The snow was falling thick and fast and Jilly went round to the front of the house. Tom would be here soon and then they would go to Cathy's for the night and drive down to the cottage tomorrow. Misha was preparing a special Christmas lunch. She was from Belarussa and was delighted that they would all be living near each other.
She put her hand up to the sign and with a swift movement brushed the snow off to reveal the word.
SOLD,
 Tom drove up and parked with a flourish in the drifting snow. As she walked towards him she made a Christmas wish for the new family moving in full of hopes to make a beautiful tapestry of their lives.









Thursday, 11 December 2014

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart



A very dear friend of mine has suggested that my Christmas collection of stories could be called 'stories that warm the cockles of your heart.' I like this idea so much and so I am going to dedicate them to her and that will be the title of the collection.
For those of you who aren't familiar with this wonderful expression I looked up the origin. It seems to date back to the seventeenth century. There are three possible explanations :-
1 it could be due to the resemblance of the shape of cockles to the shape of hearts.
2 It may be a corruption of the Latin word, cochleae, cochleae cordis or the ventricles of the heart.
3 it might have an Irish Gaelic origin inspired by molluscs opening when exposed to warmth, notably as in cooking. You know you should never eat a mollusc that has stayed firmly closed during the cooking process!.

Number three is definitely my favourite. Whatever the origin the meaning of the expression is lovely. It means to provide happiness and bring about a deeply felt contentment. There is a lot of kindness in the world and when it appears it always warms the cockles of our hearts.

I hope you'll enjoy my stories. Today just a quick poem for bedtime which my mother used to sing and some photos of warmth and cheer.

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles awake you when you rise.
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby:

Candle light is always cheerful to see

Saturday, 6 December 2014

Stories to warm the cockles of your heart. Snapshots from the park



There were only a few people left in the park. Just a few families hurrying home to have tea by the Christmas tree and wrap the last presents. A few teenagers wearing reindeer antlers and father Christmas hats gave some welcome cheer to the gloom. Dusk was already falling even though it was early afternoon. Rosalie shivered in her thin silky dress and pulled her woollen shrug round her shoulders. Her blonde hair was swept up to reveal her new diamond earrings ,an early Christmas present from Tom to wear at his office party. Rosalie thought how conspicuous she must look and moved to the railing round the lake, huddling over to keep warm. The ducks were swimming around looking for the last of the crumbs that the children had thrown. Rosalie opened her new silver clutch to see if their was anything there. Sometimes she had a small packet of biscuits, an old habit from when the children were small, but there was nothing, just the modern girls' survival kit of lipstick and concealer. Her phone and money were all in the car along with her keys.

They'd driven up to London in good time to beat the holiday traffic to attend the office party. They'd argued all the way, as they often did now, about the usual unimportant things, like where to go for New Year and if they should invite his mother to stay.
As they'd parked the car in front of the office Tom's phone rang.

Hi Svetlana, we're here, just parking, she's come too, .'

Rosalie turned on her husband , all the anger and fear of the last few weeks bursting out in a fury.

'Who is this Svetlana? Why do you speak to her in such a seductive way? Don't deny it Tom, I know it's wrong but I couldn't help looking at your phone, so many calls and texts from Svetlana, it's me or her. You're never at home and I feel so lonely now the children are at uni. I'm not going to the party.'

Rosalie flung herself out of the car and slammed the door. She didn't see the look of astonishment on Tom's face as she ran towards the park.
She watched the ducks swimming towards her, it calmed her down and her heart stopped racing. She thought the male ducks looked like Tom, all groomed and attractive, she felt like the female ducks, brown and plain..
Rosalie turned to the bench and noticed a well-built unshaven man sitting there and looking at her. He stood up and joined her at the railing.

'We can learn a lot by looking at the ducks. Look at that one, I call her Tonya, and that black one with the white crest, he is Boris, and the beautiful mallard is Karl. They were the names of my brothers and sister, it is like having them here with me.'

He spoke with a heavy accent, Rosalie guessed Eastern European. Close up she could see that beneath his worn overcoat he wasn't well built at all, but thickly padded with newspaper. He smiled at her and she saw the humour and warmth that must have been such a part of him. His face was covered with wrinkles and laughter lines. It was like staring into a rich happy past.

'I was just thinking how funny that nature makes the male more attractive. In humans the man seems to get more attractive as the years go by but women lose their ability to attract as they reach my age.' She sighed and  put her hand on her cheek.

'You are a beautiful woman, any man would be lucky to have you, but aren't you getting cold.? Why are you on your own in the park now?

Some instinct told her to trust the man and she found herself pouring out her worries. She told him about the children going to uni, her husband being made director of his company, her job as a teacher in the local primary school and how all romance seemed to have dwindled away from her life. She felt lost and lonely.
'And then in the Summer my father died and this will be the first Christmas without him..'
Rosalie stopped in mid-sentence, her words hanging in the air. She felt so ashamed of herself. Here she was moaning on and on to this poor man who probably hadn't got a home to go to and was going to sleep on this bench. She put out her hand and touched him on the arm, but he just smiled at her and nodded.
'I understand all this, you are still in love with your husband and that is good, that is why you feel this jealousy, and of course you miss your father, that is live, we are always missing the ones we love or hurting them. He coughed and doubled over a look of great pain crossed his face.
'But come we must get you warm, where are you going?'
Rosalie let him lead her across the park to where the car was parked.
'I haven't got the keys though,' she shivered and her teeth started to chatter violently.
There was a flash of silver as he took something from his pocket, it looked like a razor blade, and then the door was open. Rosalie got into the passenger seat and felt for her bag, she took out all the money she had and the box of cough sweets from the glove compartment. She thrust them at the man who tried to back away, 'No no, kindness is free,' but she was too quick for him and buried them deep in his pocket.
She looked up as Tom called to her, he was running towards her .

'Rosalie, where did you go, I couldn't understand a word you said, I had my headset on. What's happened?'

'Nothing Tom, I just said I love you, that's all. I'm so proud of you and I'm looking forward to meeting Svetlana.'

She put her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. She held his hand tight as they walked into the party.
Rosalie remembered something her father used to say.
'Help and reassurance can appear in the most unexpected  ways.'




Wednesday, 3 December 2014

Character study, exercise, Georgie's choice

The first impression most people got of Georgie was that she looked quite ordinary.  Brown hair, brown eyes, medium complexion, medium height. She thought of herself as a chameleon. She could mingle anywhere, go unnoticed or stand out depending on whether it was worth the bother. Her mother though had made her aware of how important looks were to get what you want in life. They both wanted the same thing, a rich husband for Georgie. After all it was natural wasn't it to want to have a father who could provide well for your children?  Georgie and her mother worked hard on Georgie's appearance. By the time she was in her teens she had a taste for fine clothes and food, for refining her mind through study and taking care with her figure and deportment. At her exclusive college she wasn't a success, there were too many beautiful blond blue-eyed girls who stole the attention of the most eligible young men. Georgie suggested dying her hair but her mother was scornful,

'Girls who dye their hair are common. You must tell yourself you are beautiful and use your body and your voice to attract. Pull back your shoulders at unexpected moments to show off your breasts. Study hard at college but do not show off about how much you know.'

'Is that how you got dad, mom?' Georgie smiled at her mother.
 She was determined to make her proud of her. If Georgie got a wealthy husband they would both be secure.

'Well honey, sure your dad adores me,' Georgie's mother gave a contented sigh.

There was just one fly in the ointment in their quest for the perfect husband. While they were so busy perfecting Georgie's seduction techniques, her elder brother Frankie left to his own devices, had completely run wild.

XXXXXXXXXX

As Georgie walked down the aisle towards the handsome doctor waiting for her she couldn't stop grinning. This was her great achievement. She had followed all her mother's advice and now her dream was coming true. The guests in the little church saw a very attractive quite exotic young woman. Her glossy hair pulled up in a seductive updo, strands escaping and curling coquettishly round her delicate features. Her back view caused the men to envy the groom, Marco.

Georgie practically shoved her father aside once she arrived at the altar and peered seductively up at the groom. How clever her mother had been to convince her father to move to Rome. It was the perfect place to trap a husband, The bump beneath her dress hardly showed and her fuller breasts only added to her charm. Marco had even seemed proud of her condition telling her that her fertility was a necessary requirement for their marriage. If Georgie felt any qualms she pushed them away.
 The only sadness was that her brother wasn't present. Her mother thought he'd lower the tone.

 Georgie thought that maybe it was her mother's work in the war  that had made her so tough and practical.Then being married to an American diplomat had never been easy for her with her foreign accent. Poor Kevin he had had all the bad luck.

As Marco and Georgie walked out of the church the crowd threw rice at them, the guests all thought they had never seen a bride's mother look so radiant.





Sunday, 30 November 2014

Voices on the Wind, Beth


November 2014

As she turned the corner onto the beach Beth felt the full force of the wind. She hadn't been down to the sea for a long time and sweet memories of picnics with her grandmother came flooding back wrenching at her heart.  She could see her mother waiting for her near the dunes. She was looking up at the clouds being chased by the wind, then turned and catching sight of Beth  waved and beckoned. Beth's artist eye formed a palette of the colours before her. The mellow gold of the dunes, the brown tufts of grass, the slate grey of the sea with the white foamy crests of the waves, overhead the pearly grey of the sky and the clouds being tossed about by the wind and in the middle of it all her mother's jacket in her favourite shocking pink.
Part of her wanted to run to her mother, bury her head on her mother's shoulder and release the tears within her, but she also  wanted to savour the moment and  so she walked slowly towards the picnic rug.

Susie watched her daughter's progress along the beach and felt the excitement welling up. The happiness for her daughter overflowing in her heart. Beth had such a sensitive artistic soul. Her father, Martin, had been so surprised when the teachers had told them that their daughter had an exceptional talent, a rare gift for painting and drawing. He couldn't think where it had come from .He and his father were from a long line of mechanics and car dealers, that was their passion. It was his mother who had told him then about his English grandfather. He had been an artist before the First World war but no-one knew much about him. There were two paintings of his grandmother, one in a bluebell wood and one of her sitting at a desk. His mother Frances had encouraged Beth to become an artist and left her a small legacy to set up a studio. Martin and Susie were so proud of their daughter's talent and had built a little gallery next to the garage to exhibit her beautiful paintings of the New England coastline.

Beth's phone beeped and she took it out of her pocket to read the text, I miss you so much, will arrive at 8pm Love forever, A x. The thrill that shot down her spine had nothing to do with the Winter breeze.

XXXXXXXXxxx


 Beth at nearly forty had put aside any hope of falling in love like her grandparents and her mother and father. Her friend Hetty that she'd known since nursery school had quickly had five children to create the large family that she had always dreamt of and Beth was greatly loved by them all. Hetty was always telling her that she'd make a brilliant mom.

 Then in the Spring an agency for a magazine in New York had asked her to go to London with a well-known travel photographer to cover the story of the poppies around the Tower of London. Someone had seen her paintings and thought they had just the right touch of sensitivity and nostalgia . They wanted to stage an exhibition of photographs and paintings along with historical documents.

Beth went to New York to meet the photographer and travel on together. His name was Archie and he was from Charleston. As they shook hands a jolt of electricity ran up Beth's arm, she jumped away and looked into Archie's eyes- He looked as shocked as she did.

On the flight to London Archie told her all about his work. He had been travelling the world taking photographs for documentaries. His family were all in Charleston, but he'd never married or had children. He was warm and funny and Beth soon found herself telling him all about her English great-grandfather. She told him about the bluebell woods and then about her grandmother, Frances,who had passed on so many family traditions and a strong bond of love.

It was while they were looking at the poppies that it happened. Archie had been taking shots of the vast display and was muttering something about the connection between all the blood that had been shed at the Tower of London and Flanders fields.
Beth was mesmerized by the poppies. Each one represented a young life that had ended during that war one hundred years ago.
 There wasn't one for her great-grandfather, but in a way part of him had died along with all her great-grandmother's hopes for a life of married bliss.
 There must have been many more like him. The tears were running down her face, Archie went towards her and it just seemed like the most natural thing to do, to lean into him and be comforted by his strong arms. Beth felt like she had come home. As Archie kissed her hair and whispered in her ear,
'It's alright, honey, everything is alright'
It was as though a missing piece of her had been found.
Archie took her hand and looked her in the eyes.
'How about we go find those bluebell woods?'

XXXXXXXxx

As her daughter approached and settled on the rug, Susie handed her the biscuit tin, proudly telling her that she'd made the gingernut cookies from her grandmother's recipe.
Beth bit into the cookie, savouring the sharp tang of the ginger and the salt on her lips from the sea spray. Then she could contain herself no longer and flung herself at her mother.


The words tumbled over each other as they fell out of Beth's mouth like a happy bubbling torrent.  Her eyes shone brightly with love and joy as she told her mother that Archie was on his way to stay for Thanksgiving and wanted to marry her and have a baby and that they loved each other with all their hearts. She had never dreamed that she would have been this happy.

Susie hugged her daughter, tears streaming down her face. The two women looked up then, their tears mixing with the salty air and the joyful laughter that followed carrying upwards to the sky.The voices on the wind sang gently together, 'Everything is going to be alright.'



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