This work in progress is my mother's.
As a retired English teacher, she's always dabbled in creative writing. I have finally been able to get this short story from here. I think this could become a first chapter. If you agree please show some love by clicking the heart below. Enjoy!
By Sally Harrison
With a sigh of happiness, Sue slipped her mobile into her bag. Still smiling, she pushed open the kitchen door.
Red-cheeked Pat turned from the hob and lifted her eyebrows enquiringly.
‘Jamie’s just phoned wishing me a lovely Christmas day; of course, it’s evening now in Melbourne.’
She began to take her coat off as Pat turned back to the hob and began lifting lids on an assortment of pans bubbling on the stove.
‘Never understood it,’ she said. ‘Well, you know my opinion, your only son, you sacrificed your whole life for him after Bob died, and what does he do?’
Sue went into the hallway to hang her coat up; she didn’t want to hear Pat’s opinion yet again. Every birthday, every Christmas, always the same; Pat didn’t have a good word to say for James. Sue sighed, feeling the euphoria from the phone call begin to dissipate.
‘No sooner out of uni than he packs his bags and emigrates…’ Pat yelled from the kitchen, determined Sue would hear her.
Sue forced herself to smile and popped her head back around the kitchen door, ‘Would you like me to lay the table?’
Pat huffed and, not answering, opened the oven door and began to baste the chicken. They were having chicken because Pat had declared it was more economical for the two of them. She was right, Sue thought, but maybe her suggestion of a small duck would have been more celebratory, more in keeping with the day. Still, she’d given in; not all arguments were worth the energy it took to win.
She could have said something; it was her Christmas too, but without her husband, Bob, was there any point? Bob had loved Christmas. Even now, after all these years, she could visualise Bob carving the turkey with his Santa Clause hat perched precariously on his head. James, full of excitement and probably full of chocolate from his selection box, reminding them both that they still had to pull the crackers. Good times, until…even now, it was painful. It had been his heart; it didn’t seem right; he was still a young man who volunteered with the school football team. James was only fourteen, too young to lose a father. Her life had changed overnight. That’s why it was important to remember the good times; that’s what James had said, ‘We had some great Christmases Mum.’ she smiled. She loved James so much.
In the dining room, she laid the table for two, napkins, crackers all left over from the year before. Taking the knives and forks from the sideboard drawer, she glanced into the mirror that hung above it and smiled at her reflection. She liked the new cut Jenny her hair stylist, had given her.
Jenny had insisted, ‘A new style for your new look; your face is so much slimmer now.’
It had felt good, so good she’d had her nails done too.
‘How much have you lost?’ Jenny asked.
‘Just over two stones since July.’ She’d said pleased.
James had asked the same question and told her he was really proud of her. She smiled, remembering his suggestion; she hugged it to herself; she’d tell Pat after dinner.
Back in the kitchen, Sue began to lift the little used serving dishes off the shelves on the dresser.
‘Oh no need for all that nonsense.’ Pat said, ‘For heaven's sake, there’s only two of us!’
‘Yes, but I thought it would look nice, you know, special for Christmas.’
‘It just makes more washing up, and there’s enough with all the pans.’
‘I don’t mind, Pat; I’ll be washing up after all.’
‘No, I’ll dish it up in here and bring it through; you could put the gravy in the gravy boat if you like.’
Pat carried through the plates, and Sue took a bottle of chilled white wine from the fridge; it was Christmas she thought. As she placed it with the glasses on the table, Pat laughed, ‘ooh a glass of wine, but what about the diet?’
‘I’ve told you it’s not a diet; it’s just a different way of eating, cutting out too many cakes and biscuits. I can have a glass of wine now and again.’
‘Well, I don’t know why you bother, Pat said, ‘I mean, at our age, what does it matter?’
She held out her cracker to Sue, and Sue dutifully pulled it.
She looked across the table at her friend as they began to eat their meals. They’d known each other for years. They’d been work colleagues, and then when James’s visa was extended, and finally he decided he was making his home in Australia, well, it was Pat’s suggestion; she said it made sense, and it did. Pat moving in and paying a small rent had meant she could afford to take early retirement and indulge in her love of gardening and painting, and they’d got on so well at work.
Washing up, she thought back to the early days after Bob died; life had been so busy. The insurance had paid off the mortgage, but she’d still had to go back to work as a teacher. There had been courses and retraining, running the home on her own, but most of all was trying to be both parents for James.
Now, well, she was still only young despite what Pat might think, and she wasn’t prepared to let life pass her by; no, she wanted more out of life.
Sue carried a tea tray into the living room, where Pat was dosing in front of the fire. ‘Here we go, a nice cup of tea; you deserve it after all the cooking this morning. Dinner was delicious.
Pat looked up, ‘Thanks, Sue, it was good even if I say so myself.’ She took her cup from Sue and placed it on the small table by her armchair.
‘And now for presents.’ Pat said. ‘As you know, we agreed, nothing too expensive.’
Sue smiled, ‘Here you are.’ She handed Pat a square parcel wrapped in tartan wrapping paper with a matching bow. Pat smiled, ’Oh you didn’t have to go all that trouble, I mean, the cost of paper and the bow, and it’ll only end up in the bin.’
Sue laughed, ‘I like doing it, making it special.’ Pat excitedly ripped the paper open; inside was a square box. She opened the lid and took out a teapot and cup, and saucer for one. The teapot fitted neatly into the cup. It was decorated in a pretty polka dot pattern.
‘Oh, but it’s just for me.’
‘I know for all those times when I’m out on my courses, or if you just want some me time. You often stay up later than me, and it’s a perfect match for the jug your Jenny bought you.’
‘Well I suppose so …now where’s yours, oh here it is.’ Pat tugged a misshapen parcel from under her chair. It was wrapped in newspaper and tied with rough twine. She handed it to Sue. I thought I’d go rustic this year, saving the planet and all that.’
‘Yes I can see, very economical.’
‘Exactly, in my opinion, recycling should be all year round no matter what the occasion.’ Pat gave Sue a self-satisfied smile.
Sue always had the feeling that Pat was playing a game of one-upmanship. Had she been like this when they worked together, probably, and Sue had been too busy to notice.
Carefully, Sue unwrapped her present to reveal a box of chocolates - Dairy milk.
‘Oh,’ Sue looked at Pat. ‘Chocolates’
‘They’re not really chocolates. I just used the box, more recycling.’ Pat beamed at her. ‘No, they’re homemade peppermint creams, and before you ask, yes, they have got lots of sugar and fat in them.’
But Pat, why? You know how hard I’ve tried to lose weight this year, and I’d still like to get to my target weight.’
‘I’ve told you before, I don’t know why you bother, and anyway, a few peppermint creams won’t make a difference - after all, it’s the thought that counts.’
Sue poured another cup of tea, and they sat in silence. Melbourne Sue thought, ln the New Year he’d said, James had already bought her ticket, it was his Christmas present to her.
And if she liked it well, James had said she should think about it. She smiled; Sue missed him and his wry sense of humour. She looked across at Pat, dozing again in the chair. She wouldn’t approve of her plans; when did she ever? She’d tell Pat her news in the morning. That teapot for one would certainly come in handy.
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