The Christmas List
A short Christmas story
Instead of a blog this week, I am sending you a Christmas story. I wrote ‘The Christmas List’ back in 2011 and it appeared in ‘Yours’ magazine in the December of that year. I hope you enjoy it. Happy Christmas!
The Christmas List
‘What do you want for Christmas this year?’ bellowed George as he breezed through the kitchen en route to the garage. He barely even stopped as he swept past Mary, intent on some vital DIY job or other.
Mary was stirring the Christmas pudding, but she paused at the question. ‘I don’t really know.’ She stared into the middle distance, trying to summon up some useful article that George could be trusted to buy. But he was already almost out of the room.
‘Write me a list,’ he shouted over his shoulder.
‘Righto,’ replied Mary but she doubted if he heard her since the door was already banging as she spoke, drowning out her reply. She shrugged her shoulders, used to George’s reaction. He was full of bluster and always busy with some practical task. But a good man nonetheless. Not one to buy flowers but handy if you wanted a dripping tap fixed...
She went back to her stirring, but her mind was elsewhere. What should she ask for for Christmas? Some bubblebath? Yes, that was a good idea. Not the cheap stuff which smelled like disinfectant and whose bubbles disappeared too quickly. Something fragrant and expensive. A luxury that she wouldn’t buy for herself, but which would give her hours of pleasure. She smiled extravagantly at the thought and in her mind, she was transported to a steam-filled bathroom, lying back in a haze of scented foam, sipping delicately from a champagne flute. It wasn’t the bubble bath itself that she craved but what it represented: a chance to relax, to pamper herself, even to play at being a film star for a brief while. She laughed herself out of her reverie and bustled over to the cupboard to fetch the bag of currants. As she opened the door, she saw her shopping list pad stuck to the outside and tore off a sheet. She rummaged in the drawer for an old pencil and wrote: Mary’s Christmas List across the top of the paper then drew a squiggly line underneath. Next, she put a number 1 on the side and scrawled Bubble bath beside it.
Then she took out the scales to weigh the currants and tipped them into the bowl. She had followed the recipe so many times before that her actions were automatic and she didn’t have to think. Instead her mind continued to dwell on the thorny issue of her Christmas list. Suddenly she had another idea. If she was going to be self-indulgent, she could also do with a new mirror; her old one was cracked. If she tried to look at her reflection it looked as though she had a scar on her face, and it was difficult to see in it properly. Mind you, at her age did she really want to see properly? Perhaps it was best to stay blissfully ignorant of the sagging skin and furrowed lines that now adorned her face. Then she had a strange thought: what if she could have a magic mirror? One that didn’t reflect the present but somehow, supernaturally, showed her the past. It could show her her face at twenty, the age she had been when she had first met George. Then her skin had been smooth and pale with a hint of rose in her cheeks. Her eyes had been big and bright, none of that crepiness that had seemed to pinch her eyelids and shrink her eyes until they looked like those small black currants she had put in the pudding. At that unwelcome thought Mary started: the pudding! She must get on or there wouldn’t be time to steam it. She was about to find the sultanas when she caught sight of her list. She grabbed the pencil and wrote small hand mirror beside a ‘2’ in the margin.
The sultanas followed the currants into the mix and as she started to stir Mary allowed her mind to wander again. Bubble bath, mirror… what else did she need? There was something - what was it? Her attention was drawn by the sound of rain pattering against the window. That would put paid to George’s DIY. Suddenly she remembered: an umbrella! Her black one had a broken spoke and it looked like an old crow with a damaged wing when she tried to hold it up. Maybe she should have a nice pink one this time. It was bad enough coping with a shower let alone having a depressing coloured umbrella as well. She was about to write 3. Umbrella on her list when she had another strange thought. What if she could have an umbrella that didn’t just keep out the rain but warded off other unwelcome misfortunes as well? She wished she had had such a thing when her parents had died or the day George had lost his job. She wasn’t asking for a charmed life but lately there had been more rain than sunshine. A powerfully protective umbrella would certainly be a godsend. She smiled as she added the item.
The list was nearly complete. One more thing and that would be enough. George got bored and frustrated if he had to spend too long at the shops and they were trying to keep costs down now that they were both retired.
The list was nearly complete. One more thing and that would be enough. George got bored and frustrated if he had to spend too long at the shops and they were trying to keep costs down now that they were both retired. She tried to think of another inexpensive item. Hmmm..... What about a photograph album? Julie was always sending them snaps of the children and she tried to keep sticking them in the book, labelling each one carefully as she did so. In fact, one of her favourite pastimes was to leaf through the pages of old photograph albums, remembering the happy times, the holidays, birthdays and Christmases. How many more would there be she wondered? She and George weren’t getting any younger. At once she had another idea. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could have an album where she could see photos of the future? She would love to see what Jamie and Becky would look like as teenagers. Would Jamie be a footballer? Would Becky one day be a bride? She could hardly contain her excitement as she imagined her young grand-daughter clad in a fairy tale dress beaming beside a lovely young man. Who else would be in the picture - Julie of course, and Tim, and - please, please - could she and George be there as well? She would so love to be around to see it. Slowly she reached for her list and put 4. Photograph album.
The pudding was ready now. Mary poured the mixture into the bowl and tied grease-proof paper round it as she had so many times before. She set it in the steamer over a pan of water then went upstairs to tidy herself up.
*
The rain had indeed brought George in from outside. He marched into the kitchen then stopped as he saw Mary’s list lying on the worktop. He glanced at it quickly: Bubble bath, a mirror, an umbrella and a photograph album. That shouldn’t be too difficult - a quick trip into town should be enough. Nothing too expensive either. Good old Mary. She didn’t ask for much.
But she did in her dreams, George. She did in her dreams.