Chapter 15: Christmas Day Afternoon 1936

Gordon had banked the fire up before they went to Nan's, placing ashes on top, so that it didn't burn away too quickly. He'd rolled the rug away from the fender, just in case a spark flew out and set it on fire. He'd left a box of matches by the gas-light. He lit the mantle and the room brightened. The trimmings and tree ornaments glistened and reflected the light magically. Michael loved it. It reminded him of Aladdin's cave. And there on the lino, partly under the table was his railway. Brilliant! He headed straight for it.

"Coat off first!" said his mother firmly.

For once, the house seemed really lovely and warm, even to Margaret. There were plenty of comfortable seats because of her new three-piece suite.

Henry admired the trimmings.

"I helped you put them up didn't I Dad?" said Michael.

"Well you did a grand job lad. That's a lovely tree you've got there," said Henry.

"I helped you carry it back from the Market didn't I, Mam? And I put some of the ornaments on." He enjoyed the praise which followed.

Gordon told Michael, "There isn't room in here for all of us and your train. Come on, we'll split the lines up and set it out again in the parlour. Bring your turntable with you."

"It'll be cold in there, Dad."

"No it won't, we'll put the oil stove on. Come on, I'll give you a hand."

The oil stove was a bit smoky and more than a bit smelly. The parlour was a tiny room so it soon got warm. There was a draught because they had to leave the door open in case it became too suffocating in there. Michael could feel that draught right across his back as he and his Dad fixed the lines together again.

Henry had come with them. The two women were left to their verbal sparrings and fussing of Gwyn. Henry smoked his pipe which gave off a better smell than the oil stove. But it became very muggy in there.

When Nan came to summon them to the tea-table, she was annoyed. "You know that child," meaning delicate Gwyn, "has weak lungs. For heaven's sake what are you two doing, trying to kill her?"

She made Henry put his pipe out.

"Outside!" she demanded, as he leaned forward to knock the fillings out in the empty parlour grate. Henry went obediently to the front door.

"And you," she said to Gordon, "turn that filthy thing off. What are you trying to do, poison all of us?"

Nobody argued with Nan. Michael knew that was the end of playing with his train for the day.

They all sat down to tea. There were crackers to pull, but the noise Michael a bit apprehensive -- which set the baby off crying.

Margaret rose from the table and took the baby with her. "She's had a long day, I'll put her to bed. You can pour the tea, if you like Nan."

Nan took charge until Margaret came back. There were enough paper hats to go round and it was a truly festive occasion. Nan made only one upsetting remark. That was when they'd nearly finished eating and slices of the Christmas cake were passed round.

"A bit on the dry side! Could have done with a drop or two of sherry in it!"

Michael wondered why Nan managed to eat a second slice if she hadn't liked the first one.

After tea, Michael pondered what to do. Nan wanted to play cards and Gordon and Margaret agreed to give her a game. Henry didn't play because of his difficulty remembering which cards had been played so he asked Michael if he would like to go for a walk.

"It's foggy. Who'd want to be out in it?" muttered Nan.

"Please, Mam!"

Margaret let Gordon decide. She was in no mood for a confrontation with her husband's mother.

"Make sure you put a scarf on and button your coat up round your throat! Don't be out in it too long!"

Henry went into the passage where the coats were kept. They wrapped up warm to keep the cold out.

"We'll just go round the block," Henry promised The pair of them stepped out into the thick fog.

Michael thought, "This is going to be a good adventure." He'd never been out on a really foggy night before.

It was dead quiet in the street. Everybody else was indoors. The house next door was in complete darkness. It was like a gost's house. That's what Rob had told Michael. "I'll bet it's haunted. I bet you anything, that old woman comes back and mooches about in there." For a moment, Michael fancied he did see a light gleaming dimly in the upstairs bedroom window, through the thick fog. Perhaps there was a ghost of Christmas Past in there. But no, it was just a trick of the light reflected from the gas-lamp hissing on the top of the lamppost on the edge of the pavement.

The fog was so thick that they could not see the street light near St. Anne's School until they were close to it . It being Christmas Day, most of the front parlours had people in them and the lights from those illuminated the pavements, which were wet and slippery because of the damp mist.

The fog was a mixture of low, misty clouds and smoke from all of the town's chimneys. The smell of it caught the back of Michael's throat. Worse still, there was the strong beer-brewing smell from Mitchell's on the other side of the empty site across from the Watsons' house.

Michael held his Grandad's hand. They crossed the road and walked as far as Lodge Street, went down there and edged along the side of the Grand Theatre. The fog was so thick here that they could hardly make out the ramshackle shed, on the opposite side of the road, where a few men normally toiled, doing foundry work.

They turned into Leonardgate. The front of the Grand Theatre was in complete darkness and there were no lights on in the pubs which had closed after lunch. It seemed all strange and eerie to Michael, so used was he to the noise and bustle of the area during the day.

They had not seen a soul or heard a sound.

"We'll not go much further," said Henry. "We'll cut down the alley at the side of Gillows and go back along North Road."

"Right Granddad. It's a bit cold isn't it?"

It wasn't turning out to be much of an adventure after all. It was worth a pause to have a good look at one shop window where Parliament Street met North Road. They'd left the shop's electric lights and Christmas tree lights on. It was a sweet shop and the goodies in their brightly-coloured Christmas packaging looked very attractive. But of course it was no good hoping for anything because the shop was closed.

Then the strange thing happened.

"Shh!" said Henry.

"Listen! What's that? Can you hear it?"

Michael listened intently. The distant sound was coming from near Skerton Bridge. They stood there waiting, as the sound came closer, all along Parliament Street, echoing through the gloom. They heard it quite near before they could make out what it was.

"Sounds like a horse coming," said Henry, peering down the road.

It was a horse, trotting steadily along down the middle of the road. It had a choice between going down Cable Street or North Road. For a minute it paused and they had a good look at it. It was a big animal, not as big as the shire horses, but the same colour, grey, as one of them. It looked warily at the two humans, then it snorted, turned its head away and trotted off along North Road. They could hear it for a long time as it made its way through the deserted town.

"Well, I'll be blowed! Would you believe it?"

"I'll be blowed too Granddad!" said Michael, thinking he'd had a good adventure after all.

They headed for home but had not gone far when Henry said, "Stop! Listen there's summat else coming!"

Michael listened again and he heard it too. This time it was the sound of footsteps, someone running. Suddenly, they saw him, emerging from the swirling fog, and he saw them. He was a short man, in a thick pullover, which his big, fat belly made bulge out. He stopped. He was panting and breathing deeply.

"Have you seen an 'orse? A grey one?" he asked.

"Yes," said Henry. "You'll have a job catching it. It went that way. It must be the other side of town by now."

"Bloody thing!" said the man. "I'll half kill it when I do catch it." He ran off again disappearing quickly into the swirling mist.

"Well I never!" exclaimed Grandad. "Not in a thousand years! Who'd have thought it?"

"Well I never as well Grandad," repeated Michael.

By the time they arrived back in Edward Street, Nan had had enough of playing cards, Margaret had kept on winning. Nan had had enough. She was ready for home.

"Keep your coat on!" she said to Henry. "It's time we were off. It's been a long day."

"But a nice one mother," said Gordon. All the others agreed.

After she had seen them go, Margaret locked the front door and went back to the warm room. She sighed and remarked, "Company's alright but I'm glad we're on our own now."

Gordon took Michael up to bed, read him a story from one of his new books and saw him off to sleep.

He went back downstairs where he and Margaret lay together for a long time in front of the fire. Everything nice and cosy!

"Michael might come down!" she protested.

"Nothing to worry about! He's had a full day. He's fast asleep."

Gordon had had a really good Christmas Day, apart from seeing Joyce. Why had his brother picked up with her!

Margaret was relieved that everything had gone off reasonably well. The usual tension between her and her mother-in-law had been there all day but it had been bearable. Her reaction to seeing her friend Joyce was different from Gordon's. It had been an unexpected bonus. She wished her husband would treat Joyce with more consideration.

Next day, with Margaret's parents was an unqualified success. It being Christmas, Gordon was off the hook and spent freely with his father-in-law in the local club and had some good laughs with the brothers-in law. Margaret loved being with all of her relatives, especially her mother. 

Only Michael was sorry to be away from his new toys for the day and anxious to be back home as soon as possible. Unfortunately for him, it was late when they arrived back and he was packed off to bed without a chance to play with his new train set.

"There's always another day," his Dad said. "You'll enjoy it all the more for waiting!"

His Dad had an answer for everything, Michael thought, and he was usually right. That night he had pleasant dreams of travelling on a real train, just like his Hornby. He went all over the world in it and had all kinds of wonderful adaventures. Next morning, he was up early and playing with his toys even before the fire was lit.