A Perfect Christmas

by Lynda Page

  Meanwhile Glen was feeling awkward to be inside a house for the first time in over fifteen years. It felt a mite claustrophobic to be enclosed once more by four walls. He knew, though, that it wouldn’t take him long to shake off these feelings and get used to living in such security again.

  While he was lost in his own thoughts, Jan was doing her best to shake off a feeling of desolation, reminding herself that she was in this situation because of her own stupid moment of madness, regardless of what had driven her to it. As far as Harry was concerned, she had betrayed him in the worst way she could and she should not blame him for getting on with his life without her in it.

  With forced lightness she told Glen, ‘The bathroom is through here. We had the old outside toilet and shed converted into one five years ago. I’ll show you how to work the geyser then leave you in peace to have your soak. Oh, look in the cabinet on the wall and you’ll find what you need to deal with all that hair on your face.’ She laughed before she added jocularly, ‘I’ll cut that matted mess off your head after you’ve washed out whatever is nesting in it! I’ll get you a sack to put your old clothes in and we’ll leave them in the dustbin when we go.’ She saw the quizzical expression in Glen’s eyes then and knew what he was going to ask. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t be leaving here stark naked. I’m going to sort out some of Harry’s old clothes for you that I know he won’t miss.’

  She led Glen through a door at the back of the kitchen and into a long narrow room with white-washed walls. On one side stood a huge cast-iron bath, on the other a sink and toilet. The floor was covered with black-and-white checked lino. There was a gas heater on the wall above the bath. Above the sink was a white medicine cabinet with mirrored doors. After she’d shown him how to operate the geyser, made sure he had fresh towels and that there was plenty of soap, Jan told him, ‘Use as much water as you need. I’ll leave you to it while I pack my belongings, sort you out some clothes and see what I can find us for breakfast. Oh, when I’ve mashed us a cuppa, I’ll knock on the door to let you know it’s outside.’ As she shut the door behind her, she called to him, ‘Enjoy yourself.’

  Glen meant to. After turning on the geyser which slowly dispensed scalding hot water into the bath, he wasted no time in stripping off his clothes, layer by layer. It was so long since he’d taken them off that they were almost melded together from sweat and dirt. The last layer stuck to his skin, which smarted as he pulled it away. While the bath was still filling he thought he’d tackle his facial hair. Standing before the misted mirrored cabinet on the wall above the sink, he opened it and took out the items he’d need.

  He closed the cabinet doors then wiped a hand over the glass to clear off the mist. On catching sight of the image that stared back at him, he jumped back in shock. He hadn’t seen a reflection of himself for many years, purposely avoiding doing so, not wanting to be reminded how low he’d been brought. Of course he’d had an idea he looked bad, but had never thought he’d look quite so grotesque and frightening. No wonder children had cowered in terror behind their mothers’ skirts when he had come into view. Blackbeard the notorious pirate would have looked like an angel compared to him if they’d been put side by side. It struck him then that he couldn’t even remember what he looked like without a mass of hair and years of grime on his face. Of course, during the many years since he had last seen himself clean-shaven he would have aged; the harshness of the life he was living would have told on him and the lack of proper nourishment drastically affected his weight. He would have to prepare himself for the fact that he might not even recognise himself once he’d finished his ablutions. He picked up the pair of scissors he’d found in the cabinet and set about his task.

  Upstairs, Jan was trying to dismiss memories of happier times in this house to the back of her mind as she prepared to pack her clothes and personal possessions. To her shock and dismay, however, she had opened the wardrobe to find empty hangers where her clothes used to hang, and then discovered that the dressing table had been stripped of all the personal items which had cluttered the surface and filled the drawers. Any shred of hope she might still have harboured for a reconciliation evaporated then. She had only been gone a matter of days and already there was no visible sign that she had ever lived here at all. She knew that her indiscretion had caused her husband hurt, but for him to have removed all visible reminders of her so soon cut her deeply. The kind and compassionate man she had married had changed out of all recognition since he had become embroiled with the church and that conniving vicar had got his claws into him. She shut the wardrobe door. She wasn’t worried about how she was going to afford to kit herself out with some new clothes, or replace her personal items, or put a roof over her head for the time being until she found a job; she knew exactly how she was going to do that, and to hell with what the vicar or Harry made of it when it came to light what she’d done.

  Having sorted out a set of clothes for Glen, she made her way back downstairs, laid them on the floor outside the bathroom, knocking on the door to let Glen know they were there, then went into the kitchen to mash a pot of tea for them both and see what she could find for breakfast.

  A short while later, sipping the cup of tea Jan had made him, Glen was revelling in the luxury of feeling hot water lapping gently over him. This was the third change of water, and albeit it was murky it was nowhere near the colour of a muddy puddle as the first lot had been. That had had a thick layer of scum floating on top, which he’d had to scrub away from the sides of the bath before he could refill it. After he had shorn his thick growth of beard close enough for him to shave, he set about removing the rest with a cut-throat razor. He had prepared himself to see a stranger looking back at him from the mirror but he hadn’t expected to see someone quite so gaunt with skin the colour of putty, or such deep grooves around his nose, cheeks and eyes where none had been before. If he hadn’t known who it was staring out of the mirror, he would never have recognised himself. Between the next change of water he had tackled his mass of hair, shearing it off his head in big chunks, leaving enough hopefully for Jan to shape into a short back and sides. Seeing his reflection when he had done this was another shock and he kept having to remind himself that it really was him.

  As he lazed now in what felt like the lap of luxury, aware that he should really vacate the bathroom in order to give his hostess time to use the facilities before they had to leave, the sound of a loud knock on the back door reached his ears. He sat bolt upright, the action causing a wave of water to slop over the sides and on to the linoleum. His heart was thumping madly. Had Jan’s husband come back for some reason, having to knock on the door as she had locked it after them? Jan might have a right to be here but Glen wasn’t sure where he himself stood. Fear engulfed him that he could be charged with trespass and be facing jail again.

  Jan had been frying sausages, about to add the couple of rashers of bacon she had found in the pantry to the pan, when she heard the sound of a key being tried in the back door lock and spun round to stare at it, automatically thinking it was her husband trying to get in. She had told Glen that she had every right to enter the house as she was still technically married to the owner, but in all truth she didn’t actually have a clue where she stood legally. Her mind in turmoil, she had no idea what to do. Open the door or stay as quiet as a mouse, hoping Harry would go off to get a locksmith and give Glen and her time to make a hurried escape?

  Then she heard a female voice calling out to Harry to let her in. Jan frowned, puzzled. Who was this woman who was familiar enough to be calling him by his Christian name and expecting to be let into the house? Had he recovered from the ending of their marriage so quickly that he had already replaced her with someone else? Then Jan heard the voice again, calling out, ‘Are you all right, Harry? I know you’re in, I can smell cooking. Are you feeling down because of what happened with your wife? Do you want me to fetch the Reverend to come and talk to you?’

  Jan bristled then. So this was a member of the congreg
ation, wasting no time in ingratiating herself with Harry. Saw herself as the next Mrs Clayton, did she? Well, Jan was going to put a spanner in the works!

  She unlocked the door, opened it and addressed the woman with a brusque, ‘What can I do for you?’

  The visitor was roughly in her late-fifties. Hanging down below her coat Jan could see the bottom of a wrap-around apron. Her greying hair was scraped under a scarf tied turban-style. She eyed Jan in amazement and demanded, ‘Who are you?’

  Jan stiffened and responded indignantly, ‘It’s you who should be telling me who you are, being’s it’s my door you’re calling at.’

  The woman looked shocked. ‘Your door! Oh . . . so you’re Mr Clayton’s wife. But what are you doing here?’ She sneered at Jan in disgust. ‘I understood he had turned you out because he caught you fornicating with another man in his bed.’

  Jan was very conscious that she was still wearing the clothes she’d been in the last few days and hoped the other woman wasn’t standing close enough to notice. She appraised her visitor, looking her up and down. ‘You don’t look like a woman who believes everything she hears. It was all a misunderstanding that has now been resolved.’

  The other woman exclaimed, ‘Oh, I see.’ She looked most put out. ‘But Harry didn’t mention he wouldn’t be needing our help any more last night at the Church Council meeting.’

  She should have known that the do-gooding widows or spinsters among the congregation would have been fussing and faffing over Harry as soon as they caught wind of his misfortune, thought Jan. She planted a smile on her face. ‘Well, you have my deepest thanks for looking after him so well while I’ve been away.’

  ‘And seeing to any washing he needed doing, and cooking his evening meal ready for him to warm up when he came in from work,’ the other woman told her.

  Jan thought that the vicar was as cunning as a fox. Why would Harry need to take his heathen wife back when all his housekeeping was being taken care of so conveniently? No fear then of him disentangling himself from the church, and the vicar losing one of his valued followers. ‘Well, thank you for that too,’ Jan said stiffly. ‘You will excuse me, won’t you? I was just making my breakfast and I risk burning it.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be seeing you again tonight then, Mrs Clayton, when I attend the Bible class here with the others.’

  I shouldn’t count on it, thought Jan as she shut the door and locked it again afterwards.

  She turned to make her way over to the stove, hoping the contents hadn’t spoiled during the time she had been distracted. She meant to knock on the bathroom door and tell Glen to hurry up when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a movement and spun her head to see a strange man standing outside the bathroom door. He looked jumpy and extremely worried. It took her several moments to realise the stranger could only be Glen. What she saw was a hollow-cheeked, pale-skinned man in his early-fifties, though he could be younger given the harshness of the life he had been leading for the last few years. But then, a few home-cooked dinners would soon put some meat on his bones and fill out his cheeks. To her surprise, Jan thought him even now to be quite a handsome man. Out of his ragged dirty clothes and dressed in clean ones, and once she had tidied his shorn-off hair, she wouldn’t be at all embarrassed to be seen out in public with him.

  ‘My God,’ she exclaimed, ‘what a transformation! If I didn’t know it was you, I would never think for a minute you were the same man who went into the bathroom a while ago.’

  Glen had never been at all vain but after so many years of being shunned by normal society as a misfit, it was good to receive a well-meant compliment. But of more significance were the possible repercussions of the visit to the house. ‘Was that caller I heard something to be worried about?’ he asked.

  Jan shook her head. ‘Not at all. Just a woman from the church who’s been doing for my husband now he’s seemingly helpless with no wife looking after him. I think it’s wise we get going, though, before we tempt fate. Do you mind finishing the breakfast? Give the bacon a fry with the sausages, then put them in slices of bread. That you’ll find in the pantry, in the bread bin. Behind the curtain under the sink you’ll find a couple of brown paper bags that you can put the sandwiches in. We’ll eat them in the park. Meanwhile I’ll clean up the bathroom after you then take a quick bath myself, and we’ll be off.’

  He told her, ‘I’ve already cleaned up after me. I used the tin of scouring powder and the scrubbing brush that was behind the toilet.’ He didn’t tell her that he’d also used the scrubbing brush to help scrub some of the more stubborn dirt from himself, which had hurt like hell. His skin was still tingling.

  Jan looked at him, most impressed, that he didn’t seem to think all housework was automatically women’s work.

  A while later, Glen and Jan were sheltering from the icy winter wind under a covered bench area in the Imperial Avenue Park, about a quarter of a mile away from where Jan had once lived. Having finished their meal, they sat back and sighed in satisfaction. Only sandwiches washed down with water from an empty lemonade bottle Jan had found and filled from the tap before they left, but for Glen the best food he’d had for an age, and Jan in days.

  Glen’s thoughts were racing. He was now in a presentable state, but without the means to keep up his appearance it wouldn’t take more than a couple of days for him to start deteriorating again. He ought to make the most of it now, before it was too late. See if he could land himself a casual job that paid on a daily basis. It didn’t matter to him how menial the work was, it would at least get him on the ladder to improving his position in life, a chance he’d never thought to have again. With a bit of money in his pocket, he could afford to live in a hostel and hopefully find some more to purchase a change of clothes. Then he’d be able to wash and keep his clothes in a reasonable state until he saved up enough to get himself some permanent accommodation and from there a permanent job. Then he would start searching for his daughter. It seemed that the saying ‘one good turn deserves another’ was very apt in this case. He had come to Jan’s rescue and she had repaid him by giving him a chance to improve his lot. A feeling he hadn’t experienced for over two decades buoyed him up. It was one of hope.

  Before he could thank Jan for what she’d done for him, wish her the best and take his leave, she said, ‘Right, we’ve a lot to do, so we’d better be off.’

  He looked at her, bemused. ‘What do you mean?’

  She looked back at him, equally bemused. ‘You want to try and get your business back from that thieving ex-wife of yours, don’t you, and find your daughter?’

  He pulled a doubtful face. ‘I told you last night that I don’t see there’s any chance of getting my business back as I signed everything over to Nerys, but I do want to find my daughter.’

  ‘“Never say never” was a saying of my old gran’s. Another of her sayings was “Two heads are better than one”. And once we put our heads together, you never know what we might come up with as a way to get back what’s rightfully yours. Don’t concede defeat until we’ve at least had a go. Now come on, we have to find ourselves somewhere to live before we can do anything else.’

  He looked at her, confused. ‘But we’ve no money between us and . . .’

  A wide grin spread over Jan’s face as she told him, ‘Oh, yes, we have.’

  ‘But how? I mean . . .’

  There was a note of pride in her voice when she told him, ‘While you were in the bath I emptied the pot Harry keeps money in to give to the church. I can also pawn my wedding and engagement rings, which should bring us another few quid. And before you start saying I’d no right to help myself to Harry’s church money, that money is intended for use in helping the poor unfortunates of this parish . . . and you can’t deny that we’re about as poor and unfortunate as you can get.’

  Glen couldn’t argue with that. His thoughts whirled. He felt a certain amount of guilt at being the beneficiary of funds gained in this way. But if he let slip this o
pportunity to improve his life so drastically, there was no telling when, if ever, another would come along.

  He realised Jan was nudging him in the side and turned and said, ‘Pardon, did you say something?’ He then noticed she was holding something in her hand, expecting him to take it. He looked at it in surprise. It was two pound notes.

  ‘A man needs some money in his pocket. If you feel guilty for taking it, knowing where it comes from, you could always make a donation to the church poor box when you’re in funds. Now are you coming or what? We’ve a lot to do today because I don’t intend to spend another night staring up at the stars or huddling in a flea-ridden lodging house.’

  Glen accepted the money and smiled at her, saying, ‘I’m coming.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Across town Cait was dragging her weary body down the stairs. Her head throbbed, eyes felt sore, and she knew her face was swollen and blotchy from the amount of crying she had done during the night. She was only up now as she was desperate for a drink of water and a couple of aspirin to ease her headache then she planned to return, cocoon herself in her bedclothes again, and nurse the incredible pain of loss and severe worry for her future that seemed to be overwhelming her.

  She was so consumed by her own misery she did not see the suitcases piled by the front door. As she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, her mother, dressed for outdoors, pulling on black calf-leather gloves, came out of the lounge.

  Spotting Cait, Nerys shot her a disinterested look and remarked, ‘So, you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.’

  It was then that Cait noticed the suitcases. She gawped at them. Her mother had told her that the trip she’d planned to take her father to the specialist clinic was off as Cait had spent too much money on her wedding, so where could they be going?