Christmas Roses

by Pat Posner

  When they stopped outside the front door of number four Knott Lane, Lenny asked if he could take her out on her next evening off.

  “That’s about ten days off,” she said, sighing. “And it’s when—”

  “I’ll be coming to fetch and deliver the crackers before that,” Lenny said. “Maybe we could go for a short walk in Broome Park? The boss wouldn’t mind me taking a bit of a break in between deliveries. It won’t be so bad having to wait for your evening off then.”

  “But that’s when…” Audrey took a deep breath. “Mum and Dad are having a Christmas party that night and I’ll have to be there to help. You could come to it, though, Lenny. If you’d like to,” she added, crossing the fingers of the hand Lenny wasn’t holding.

  “So we’ll have a walk in the park and a party to look forward to,” Lenny replied. “Give me your torch, Audrey. I want to look at something.”

  Wondering why he wanted it, Audrey did as he asked and Lenny switched it on and walked a few steps to his right towards the living room window.

  He crouched down and swept some snow aside with his hand. “Here they are,” he said, playing the beam on the white flowers.

  “Someone told me Christmas roses stand for all that’s wonderful about the season,” Audrey said, wondering why Lenny was looking at them again.

  Lenny nodded and returned to her side. “That’s probably right. But,” he added in a whisper, “I didn’t mean them when I said as pretty as a picture last week. It was you I meant, Audrey.” Then he gave her back the torch, brushed his lips across her cheek and said goodnight.

  As she went indoors, running her finger over the cheek Lenny had kissed, she thought of what else the girl in the milk bar said the Christmas rose stood for. “Hope and Love,” she murmured before she began to hum the catchy chorus of the Christmas Roses song.

  Mistletoe Magic

  “Shall I carry the bag for you, Grandad?” asked Norman running up to the mobile grocery van where Sam Noble stood talking to his friend and next door neighbour, Amos.

  “For crying out loud, Norman. I’ve only got a little cut on my finger. That doesn’t stop me carrying a bit of shopping a few steps across the road to our prefab.”

  “It’s half an inch long and quite deep. That’s what Mum said.”

  “Your mum exaggerates,” Sam growled. “It’s just a tiny pinprick from the holly I was cutting for the Christmas decorations she’s making. I’m surprised she asked me to do it in the first place. There isn’t much she lets me help with.”

  “That’s not right, Grandad. She asked you to come and buy stuff from the van.”

  Sam snorted. “Only because all she needed was a couple of tins of peaches and a tin of cream. And I can get these three things back to her on my own, Norman, thanks very much. So you run off and play with your friends.”

  Norman sighed before wandering away – his head down and his shoulders hunched.

  “You’ve upset the lad, Sam,” said Amos. “He was only trying to help and it’s good when a youngster is willing to lend a hand to us older ones.”

  “What about when us older ones want to lend a hand to the younger ones, Amos? Shouldn’t that be a good thing an’ all?”

  Sam didn’t wait for an answer but stomped his way across Blakeley Road. He was right sorry about speaking so harshly to their Norman. He’d have to think of something to make it up to the lad.

  It was Ellen making him feel so out of sorts. He just wanted to be useful and do things for his daughter-in-law, especially as she was so busy getting ready for Christmas. But maybe he was under her feet too much.

  That hadn’t happened when he’d been helping out down at the forge most days. He wasn’t needed there now the blacksmith’s son was trained up. There wasn’t enough work for three of them.

  Sam sighed. He missed his little part-time job, the smell of the place and the companionship, the chatter and joking, missed watching the horses being shod – talking to them and stroking them to keep them calm. It had all left a huge gap in his life and he’d no idea how he could fill it.

  He didn’t know many folk in the village, he’d only come to live with his son and family three months back. He’d known Amos for a long time, though; they’d worked at the same firm when they were young.

  “Ah, well,” he muttered as he went into the prefab, “at least I’ve got dominoes at The Woodman this evening. That’s if my grouchiness hasn’t put Amos off having a game with me.”

  *

  “What’s up, Grandad?” Janet asked Amos as she walked into the Whittakers’ kitchen where he, her mother and sisters were eating breakfast. “You look right miserable. Did you lose at dominoes last night?”

  “He’s worried about Sam,” her mother told her.

  “Right.” Janet nodded. “Sam Noble’s turned into a real grouch. He wasn’t like that when he first moved into number twelve.”

  “Felicity’s worried about him as well,” said Vivian. “Says she wants her grandad back how he used to be. She was nearly crying yesterday when she told me how he’d upset Norman.”

  “Sam feels like he’s neither use nor ornament to anyone,” said Amos. “He thought since he wasn’t needed any more at the forge he’d be able to help Ellen round the place. But she seems to have it in her head that Sam deserves to take it easy now and hardly lets him lift a finger.”

  “Maybe someone needs to make him feel useful?” suggested Janet.

  “Good idea, that is, Janet,” said Amos. “But who and how?”

  “Is he any good at cobbling? Only my work shoes could do with heeling.”

  “Likely he is, Janet. He’s right good at woodwork and repairing things.”

  “I wonder if he could fix new wheels on that push-along horse that was Vivian’s when she was little?” said Arlene. “You wouldn’t mind our Christine having it, would you, love?”

  “It’s a he and he’s called Dobbin,” Vivian replied. “And Christine would love him. If fixing him would cheer Felicity’s grandad up, that would cheer her and Norman up as well. I don’t like my best friends feeling sad.”

  “What d’you think, Dad? It, sorry, he would make a lovely Christmas present for Christine,” Arlene said, smiling down at the toddler.

  “It’s worth a try,” Amos said, glad the rest of his family wanted to help Sam.

  “Sam will be going to the Community Centre’s Christmas Fayre this afternoon with you, won’t he, Dad? If I see him there I’ll ask him about putting new wheels on old Dobbin.”

  “And I’ll go round after work tomorrow and ask if he can do anything with my shoes,” said Janet, as she put on her coat. “I’ll be late home tonight, Mum. Daniel’s taking me to see The Ladykillers.”

  “Tell that boyfriend of yours he owes me a game of chess,” said Amos.

  “It’s a shame Christmas is only three-and-half weeks off, else I’d ask Sam to carve a chess set.” Janet sighed. “I’d love to give Daniel one for Christmas but I can’t afford to buy one.”

  *

  “’Afternoon, Pearl,” said Amos as their neighbour from number eight came through her garden gate.

  “Going to the Community Centre, are you?” Pearl asked.

  “Yes. I’m calling in for Sam first.” Amos lowered his voice. “He’s feeling a bit like he’s good for nothing right now. Ellen’s a good lass but she doesn’t understand Sam needs to be doing things, wants to be useful.”

  “I were up at Broome Hall this morning doing a bit of cleaning,” said Pearl. “And I got chatting to the fella who looks after the grounds and the stables. He was grumbling he was that busy he’d no time to take the horses to be shod. I’ll be there again tomorrow. I could suggest he asks Sam to do it.”

  “That would be grand, Pearl. Right up Sam’s street.”

  Pearl smiled. “He’s always been a nice old codger ’til recently. It’d be nice to get him back to how he used to be.”

  “Not so much of the old, Pearl. He’s younger than me and I don’t feel I
’m old yet.”

  “Same as my mam and Auntie Flo,” said Pearl. “They don’t feel or act old, either. Tell you what, they’re coming to the Christmas Fayre with me. We’ll look out for you and Sam and I’ll get Aunt Flo to flutter her eyelashes at him. That’ll make him feel good.”

  A warm glow filled Amos as he walked up the path to call for his friend. You could always trust folk in the prefab village to rally round when someone needed help of some kind.

  *

  Pearl kept her word and Amos hid a chuckle when Flo Harper wandered over to him and Sam and simpered at Sam after greeting them.

  Amos was trying to edge away when Flo said, “I thought there’d have been some good old-fashioned tree decorations for sale but all I can see are shiny baubles. Connie and I had some lovely wooden figures we used to hang on our tree but we’ve never been able to find them since we moved here.”

  What a bit of luck, Amos thought. And completely unplanned as well. “I reckon Sam could help you out there, Flo,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Sam?”

  “I suppose I could carve you some, Flo, as long as you don’t want them too fancy,” said Sam. He’d not sounded over-enthusiastic but Amos noticed how his friend’s eyes had lit up.

  There was another stroke of unplanned luck later on when Amos spotted a wooden chess set for sale. The pieces were a bit rough and the black knight was headless but…

  “Just look at this, Sam. Our Janet was saying this morning how she’d love to buy Daniel a chess set but couldn’t afford one. This is only a shilling and it’d look as good as new if you could do a bit of fettling on it.”

  “I’ll have a go, Amos, but I’ll have to make Flo’s tree decorations first. And Pearl told me a few minutes ago that the groomsman at Broome Hall might need someone to take the horses to be shod so I’ll be going up there to offer my services.”

  *

  “I really thought Sam was back to his usual cheerier self,” Amos said to Arlene a week later. “But he was more down in the dumps than ever last night when we went to The Woodman.”

  “Ellen called round yesterday,” Arlene told him. “She said exactly the same. Reckons it’s because he’s finished all the bits and pieces he was doing for folk. She’s right worried about him. She keeps trying to find bits of jobs for him to do around the place. Trouble is, with Christmas only just over a week off, they’ve put up the decorations and dressed the tree and written the cards. Mostly what’s left is the baking and that’s down to her.”

  “When I stopped going out to work I found it hard getting used to just doing bits of jobs instead of a real, proper one,” said Amos. “But now, well, I’ve got used to taking things a bit easier. Especially in winter. Come summer, there’s the gardening and such like and other bits and bobs that need doing outside.”

  “Heaven help Ellen if she has to wait until summer for Sam to feel better. Here, that’s our Janet walking up the path. What’s she doing coming home from work at this time of the morning? They won’t have given her time off, not at their busiest time of the year. I hope she’s not poorly.”

  “We’ve got trouble at the store,” Janet said dashing into the kitchen.

  “Not shop-lifting like in that Norman Wisdom film?” said Arlene.

  “Even if it is, it wouldn’t bring her home, Arlene,” Amos pointed out.

  “It’s the store’s Santa,” Janet said impatiently. “He’s been taken ill. Quite bad he is, we had to send for an ambulance. The grotto’s due to open at two o’clock and there’s nobody on the staff who could take his place. There’s not that many males work there and those who do are too young. So I thought of someone who could do it and went to tell the store manager and he sent me home to ask… See, I thought…” She looked at Amos.

  “Oh, no. I don’t reckon I—”

  “I don’t mean you, Grandad. You’re lovely and all that but you’re as thin as string. We’d need loads and loads of padding to make you look anything like. I was thinking of Sam. He’s nearer the right shape and—”

  “You’re right, lass. Sam would make a good Santa. And being wanted to help out in an emergency is just what he needs. I’ll go and fetch him.”

  *

  “If you like being Santa and if the store manager thinks you’re good at it, he’ll want you for the whole week, Sam,” Janet said when Amos returned with his friend. “Just afternoons, so you’d have your mornings free.”

  “Got nothing else on, lass. I’ve finished that toy horse for the little’un, done up that chess set for your chap and I took the last of Flo’s tree decorations round to her a couple of days ago.”

  Sam bit back a sigh. He missed walking round to Broome Avenue with a decoration for Flo – who seemed more delighted with every one he made. Put his heart into those wooden figures and shapes, he had. And, if he said it himself, they looked right good on the Christmas tree standing in the prefab’s living room window.

  Yes, it had been good to have an excuse to see Flo, to choose together which branch to put a decoration on. Sometimes he’d done a little job that needed doing like fixing a dripping tap and putting a new hinge on a cupboard door and, afterwards, he’d sat and chatted for a while to Flo and her sister. Not that Connie stayed with them for long. She always seemed to be “just popping out for a while”.

  “Our Janet hasn’t got all day, you know,” said Amos, interrupting Sam’s thoughts.

  Reluctantly, Sam let go the image of himself and Flo sitting all cosy in front of the fire and tried to imagine himself dressed as Santa sitting in the grotto with an excited kiddie on his lap. That thought cheered him up a little.

  “Right,” he said. “Ho, ho, ho. Come on, Janet. Let’s go.”

  *

  “Does Santa Sam know you’re taking our Christine to the store to see him, Dad?” Arlene asked him three days later.

  “He does. I reckon he’ll be surprised to see Flo Harper with me, though. I think she’s really taken a shine to Sam you know. Oh, she was egged on a bit by Connie to start with. But when I told Flo I was taking Christine to Santa Sam’s grotto she said straight off she’d ask if she could borrow young Jilly Smith from next door to her and bring her to see Santa, too.”

  Ellen, who’d called round just as Arlene was getting Christine ready for her outing, laughed. “I reckon Dad will be quite chuffed to see Flo. Those decorations he carved for her, well he took them round one or two at a time instead of waiting ’til he’d finished the whole lot. That had to be because he likes her more than a little.”

  “Could be,” Amos agreed, strapping Christine into her pushchair. “Right, we’ll be off. I’m meeting Flo and Jilly at the end of Broome Avenue.”

  “Before you go, Amos,” said Ellen. “The reason I came round was to ask you all to a party on Friday evening. I thought it was such a lovely idea of Beatrice’s, her who makes Christmas crackers, to have one to thank the neighbours for their help when she broke her ankle, that we’d have a thank you party, too. Ours will be a couple of days after hers and it’s to show how much Keith and I, and the youngsters of course, appreciate the way everyone’s tried to buck Dad up.”

  “That’s a lovely idea, Ellen. I’ll make you one of my special fruit punches for the kiddies if you like.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that, Amos. And perhaps you’ll pass on an invite to Flo and Connie for me, save me calling round there. Dad doesn’t know about it yet, but I’ll need to tell him because we thought he might like being Santa at the party, too.”

  *

  Sam gave one “Ho” too many when Amos carried Christine into the grotto with Flo and Jilly following behind. He wondered what Flo would think seeing him fatter and rounder than usual and with a white beard and whiskers, too.

  Probably not much. His Santa image was a far cry from Flo’s all-time favourite film star Rudolph Valentino – she’d mentioned that she loved him in The Sheik. And, Sam recalled, Flo had also told him how she’d cried when he died.

  But now, Christine was clambe
ring onto his knee. She chuckled and pulled at his long beard when he asked her what she wanted for Christmas.

  “Tell him you’d like a dolly, Christine,” said Jilly. “That’s what I’d like you to bring me please, Santa. A dolly.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Sam replied, using his gruff Santa voice. “But for now…” He dipped into the sack with Girls written on… “Here’s a special early Christmas present from me. And one for the little monkey who pulled my beard as well.”

  “Thank you, Santa,” breathed Jilly. “And it’s your turn now, Auntie Flo. You tell Santa what you’d like for Christmas. She isn’t really my auntie, Santa,” she added, turning back to look at Sam. “I just call her that because she lives next door and she’s nice.”

  Maybe all isn’t lost, Sam thought, as Flo came forward, her eyes sparkling and a smile on her lips.

  “What would you like Santa to bring you, Auntie Flo?” asked Sam. He winked at Jilly. “I’ll call her that because I think she’s nice, too.”

  “I’d like Santa to bring me lots of invitations for outings and for the weekly tea dances at our Community Centre,” said Flo. Could you manage that, please, Santa?”

  “I reckon maybe I could.”

  Amos smiled as he caught Sam’s eye. “I’d like a stick of some kind to prod a friend of mine when he gets a bit miserable,” he said.

  “I’ll see what I can do. But I’ve a feeling you won’t be needing a stick. I’m hoping your friend will be dancing his cares away.”

  *

  On the evening before Christmas Eve, the Nobles’ prefab was bursting at the seams. Sam looked the part, dressed in his Santa outfit. Friends and neighbours chatted away while they helped themselves to some of the delicious snacks Ellen had made and the younger ones ran around with balloons and paper party whistles.

  Amos nudged Arlene and, chuckling, pointed to Flo and Sam.

  “I told you what Flo said to Santa in the grotto, didn’t I? They’ve spent the whole evening talking to each other. Probably planning where to go on those outings she told him she wanted.”