by Mishana Khot
Harold Brown knew he was not like other people. He had lived alone all his life, and was particular about how things were done. He had a routine that suited him and didn’t like surprises or changes. It was very likely that all this made him a difficult person to live with, but Faith was patient with him. She understood him and observed his ways and made sure that his life hadn’t changed too much, all so that he would feel at ease. Had he offered her the same consideration? But more importantly, was it time to change a few things?
The Bowl was deep and lay at a lower level than Limberlost, so it gathered more snow than anywhere in town. A lone hare darted across the white expanse where the circus had been set up last year. In his mind’s eye, Harold saw Sultan, the circus tiger, as if they were right in front of each other again. It had been the first time that Harold had laid eyes on an animal so compelling and so majestic, and he had not been able to resist visiting almost every day. It had been the first time in many years that Harold had changed his routine and made spontaneous decisions. But then one day, a series of events took place, forcing Harold into the limelight and changing his life forever. And that was the day that he’d held Faith’s hand.
Only good things had come from him doing something new.
Harold spent some time examining his conscience, debating the plan that was forming in his head. He was naturally averse to change, but he’d tasted adventure last year, and it brought something to life inside. He would have sat on the bench longer, thinking about things, but the cold soon started biting through his coat. Harold took a deep breath and nodded. He had made his decision.
By the time he returned to the office, it felt like a cloud had lifted. There were going to be some big changes. He felt strong and full of ideas now. The year ahead was going to be a new and exciting phase in their lives. He headed straight towards Faith’s desk, but she was surrounded by her friends as usual. Harold veered away, pretending to observe the ceiling carefully, not sure that the big changes involved talking to a bunch of cackling youngsters.
He settled back down again at his desk. There would be time enough that evening. But at 5 p.m., before he could get up and wait at the door for her, Faith approached him. He looked up expectantly with half a smile, but Faith was already wrapping her scarf around her and looking into her bag, searching for something. She seemed to have so much in that bag – he wasn’t surprised that she could never find what she wanted. By cleaning it out regularly, she’d be able to save so much time. Again, this would be one of those suggestions that wasn’t welcome.
“Harold. I’m going with Meg and Bessie to the Christmas Market down on Oak Street, and then I’ll go to the Christmas Carols Concert next door. I’ll eat something with them. There’s some spaghetti in the fridge – you can heat that up for dinner.”
And in a flurry of coats and scarves and perfume, she was gone. He stayed at his desk for a few minutes, staring down at his papers as if he was deeply concerned about his editing, and then got up. He flung himself into his coat and burst down the stairs. Harold Brown had plans to execute, and the perfect opportunity had just presented itself.
Christmas Eve
It was a beautiful night, but it was also terribly cold. Faith and her friends huddled together, facing the stage which was lit up in anticipation of the Christmas Carols Concert. All around, the audience was settling down, pulling chairs together, leaning over each other to greet neighbours, and making happy noises. It hadn’t snowed for some time, but the ground was covered in five inches of ice, and a bone-numbing chill rose from it. But there was dear old Sally, handing out hot chocolate in paper cups. Ted from the baker’s shop was standing behind a pile of warm pies. Plenty of local volunteers came every year, bringing flasks of tea, hot snacks and other goodies.
A few announcements were made on stage, and a smattering of clapping went through the crowd. Everyone was rather more worried about getting a cup of hot chocolate to wrap their mittens around. The children were dressed in their Sunday best, with faces scrubbed till they shone. They lined up by the side of the stage, chattering like baby birds and quivering with excitement, while the piano teacher took her seat.
Faith stamped her feet and wished she’d worn something warmer. This wasn’t as much fun as it usually was, because this year, she’d wanted Harold to be by her side. It would be Christmas tomorrow, their first Christmas together, and they were not talking to each other. She didn’t know how to break the silence now that she had started it. She was miserable; she missed Harold, and the cold was beginning to seep through her coat, and lazy Sally with the hot chocolate cart was taking her own sweet time to wheel the cart over to where Faith stood.
“Faith!”
Faith spun around, and saw Harold coming up to her. A big smile crossed her face, reflected by the one that he flashed her.
“I was looking for you. Look, you forgot your shawl at home. I thought you might be cold without it.” He flicked it out from under his arm and draped it around her, pulling it close at the neck. Faith felt a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the shawl.
Harold stood in front of her, the front of his jacket open to reveal his red Christmas sweater. “I didn’t want to interrupt. If you want, I can go back….”
“No!” Faith pulled his arm and slipped her hand through it. “I’ve been missing you. Please stay.”
Harold squeezed her hand and moved closer, shielding her from the cold winter wind. The first chords of music struck out and rose, silver and trembling, through the dark branches of the trees around. The children looked sideways at their teacher for a sign, and drawing deep breaths, began the opening lines of the first carol of the concert. Faith sighed happily and snuggled closer to Harold.
An hour later, everyone clapped energetically and gave the children a standing ovation. People stood around chatting or hugging each other. Harold and Faith said their goodbyes and strolled away towards the Christmas Market.
Harold took a breath and began. “Faith, I apologise for yesterday. I shouldn’t have been so obstinate, and I know I was rude.”
“Oh, Harold. All I want is for you to be comfortable and happy…”
“And I am. I’m very happy. And I want to make sure you are too.”
Faith glowed at him. They exchanged promises to never be angry again, and to be more understanding of each other. By the time they reached the Christmas Market, peace was restored to their world.
The stalls in the market protected shoppers from the sharp wind, and fires or hot stoves burned merrily every few yards. The air was scented with pine and chocolate and Christmas, and all around, people smiled and looked happy. Harold bought some roasted chestnuts; Faith bought a paper cone of hot cinnamon biscuits. Fairy lights glimmered on trees and overhead. Both of them had their hands covered in cinnamon powder when they laid eyes on it.
A stall stood by on the side. It was overflowing with Christmas decorations and ornaments for trees. A beautiful angel dangled on one side, with a skirt of white tulle and soft spun gold wings.
“Oh, Faith. Look at that.”
“It’s beautiful” she breathed.
“Let’s start a new tradition!” Harold was already pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his hands clean. “Let’s buy this one for the tree, for our first Christmas together. We’ll put your angel and my star up as well – we’ll find a good place for them. But this will go at the top of the tree.”
“A new Springer-Brown tradition. I like that.”
They paid for it and carried the angel carefully home. It was the night before Christmas, the most magical night of the year. The streets of Limberlost rang out with the joyous sounds of celebration. The night sky was a deep blue, studded with stars. All around, piles of white snow had been heaped along the sides of the streets, and they gleamed with the reflection of the dozens of lights. Harold kept his arm around Faith all the way, keeping her warm, keeping her close.
As they rounded the corner, she gasped. Harold had c
ome home after work and finished the lights and decorations, and their little house looked wonderful. Strings of fairy lights hung around the doorway, and through the drawn curtains, she could see a beautiful Christmas tree. Inside, the decorations were all put up, and it finally felt like Christmas. Harold handed her the angel to set on top of the tree. When they’d made sure it was set exactly upright, they stood back to admire it.
“I’ve got something for you, dear. I know it’s not Christmas morning yet, but its close enough. And tonight feels special.” Harold rummaged inside his pocket and drew out a beautiful white box, tied with a pale golden ribbon.
Faith held her breath and unwrapped it. Inside, nestled on a bed of tissue was a pair of earplugs.
“I know you’re disturbed by the milk truck in the morning, dear. And these will help you to sleep.”
Faith looked at him, feeling rather underwhelmed.
Harold smiled. “And besides” he said, tugging the corner of a piece of paper out of the box for her to lift out, “you’re going to need those ear-plugs when we fly to India.”
Faith barely registered the shock of it. In her hands were two airplane tickets to India. She shrieked and jumped into his arms.
Harold chuckled. “When we got married, you told me that you’d always wanted to travel to exciting places and do exciting things. Well, I’ve booked a week’s stay for us at an Indian palace, and we’re going to ride on elephants and see tigers and eat our meals on plates of gold….”
Faith made more delighted noises and hugged him harder, and Harold had to gently disengage her arms from his neck so he could breathe. Thomas Cat came wandering in to see what all the commotion was about. He liked the house to be quiet. Faith bent and picked him up, burying her nose in his neck and covering him with kisses, and then he didn’t mind the noise so much.
Harold sat her down, and patted her knee. “I don’t want our lives to be just about us being comfortable with each other, my dear. We may not be young, but we’re not so old that we can’t have some excitement. We’ll always have our own customs and our own habits, but let’s make new traditions and new memories that we both can share.”
Faith nodded, her eyes shining. “Oh, Harold!”
He leaned forward and kissed her. “Merry Christmas, my dear.”
“I’ve got a present for you too, Harold. It’s not as exciting as these tickets, but shall I give it to you now anyway?”
Harold nodded. She hurried out and came back with a pile of presents, all gathered up in her arms along with Thomas Cat, who was now looking a little crowded. She manoeuvred one out of the pile and handed it to Harold.
It was large, and he couldn’t tell what it was by the shape. He unwrapped it carefully. Inside was a rich navy blue dressing gown with H.B monogrammed onto it. Harold smoothed his hands over the initials, admiring how fine the work was. He liked it.
“Thank you, my dear. I’ve never had anything with my name on it before.”
Faith gestured at the package. “Oh that’s not all. There’s more in there!”
Harold delved deeper and laid his hands on something. He chuckled with glee as he pulled it out. Just what he wanted. A pair of lovely warm fur-lined slippers!
The Harold Brown Special
For the rum-soaked fruit: Soak dried chopped raisins, figs, orange peel, lemon peel, cherries, and figs in rum or whisky or brandy. Harold prefers rum for the sweet dark taste it gives the cake.
For the cake:
125g soft butter
125g dark brown sugar
4 eggs, beaten
130g cake flour
½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon and nutmeg powder
Soak your fruit: Place your dried fruit in a glass bowl or bottle and pour in the rum. Cover it and stir daily. It should be soaked at least 3-4 days in advance, if not more. If you plan it in advance, you’ll be able to soak your fruit for longer, which is better.
Prepare your work area: Line up all the ingredients you need so you can reach them easily. Rub butter along the inside of your cake tin – a 20 cm size should do – and line it with baking paper. Put the oven on so it has time to heat up to 140 C.
Make your batter: Separate the eggs and whisk the whites till fluffy. In a different bowl, whisk the softened butter with the sugar until it is creamy and light. Then add the egg yolks, beating well. Add the egg whites last and fold in.
Mix your dry ingredients: Sift the flour and baking powder together. A pinch of salt will bring all the flavours together nicely. Now sprinkle in your cinnamon and nutmeg and mix it all together.
Add the soaked fruit: Strain your soaked fruit and preserve the leftover rum. Let the excess drain out and add some flour. This will prevent the fruit from sinking to the bottom. Mix the fruit so that it is coated, and then add to your batter. If it’s dry, add a little more of the excess rum.
Fill the tin: Spoon your mix into the lined tin. Smooth the surface nicely with a spatula, and put in the oven.
Bake the cake: The cake should take about an hour to bake. Check it once, cover with foil to prevent burning, and bake for another 10 minutes.
Check with a toothpick when done. The toothpick should come out dry. If not, put it back and bake for another 10 minutes. Do this until the cake is cooked well in the middle.
Preserve your cake: Your cake should cool in the tin. Use the toothpick or a fork to poke holes all over the cake. Using a basting brush, coat the cake with the leftover rum (if there’s any left), or with more rum.
Do this daily until ready to eat. Keep the cake in the baking paper even after you remove from the tin, and seal it nicely in foil to preserve the aroma. It should last for quite a long time.
Faith Springer-Brown’s Christmas Roast Chicken
1 whole chicken, with skin
Vegetables: Potatoes, carrots, parsnips, celery, mushrooms
A few cloves of garlic
2 onions
Olive oil and butter
One lemon
Stuffing or herbs: Bay, sage, rosemary, fennel
Defrost your chicken and bring it to room temperature before cooking. Turn the oven on to 240 C so it becomes nice and hot for the chicken.
Prepare your chicken and the vegetables. Wash and chop the vegetables, and remove the skin from the garlic and smash it to let it release flavours. Mix them up, splash some olive oil over them and sprinkle some salt over the mixture as well.
Remove the giblets and anything else from inside the cavity of the chicken. Roll the lemon on the countertop under your palm to release the juices and pierce it with a fork, but leave it whole. Place it inside the chicken along with the herbs or stuffing you choose, as well as some butter, the smashed garlic cloves and thick onion slices. Rub the chicken all over with olive oil and butter, and season with salt and pepper. If you want, you could also chop an onion into fine slices and place them under the skin with a little butter.
Arrange your tray with the chicken and the vegetables, including garlic. Pop it into the oven and reduce the heat. Cook the chicken for 40 minutes and then remove to apply olive oil again, or butter if you like. Spoon up some of the liquids from the tray and drizzle well over the chicken. If the heat is drying the vegetables, splash them with a little water. Put the chicken back in for another hour.
To check, use a skewer to pierce the leg. The juices should run clear. When the chicken is done, remove from tray, drain any juices from the cavity, and leave it to rest on the countertop for about twenty minutes. Cover with foil until ready to be served.
Hi there!
This book is for you and me. The ones who get sloppy-sentimental when December comes around. The ones who keep their Christmas trees up until February. The ones who own a pair of Christmas-themed pyjamas/socks/undies. I know I’ve been guilty of all of the above.
I wrote this book so that we could all just overflow with Christmassy joy and goodwill to all, and I hope you did exactly that! If you enjoyed reading Merry Christmas, Mr. Brown, i
t would be wonderful if you could write a review. It’ll help other readers like you find the book and take a chance on an unknown writer. And I’d be delighted to find another review that I could cherish and re-read often.
You can write your review here:
Amazon.com OR Goodreads.com
Happy reading!
Love,
Mishana