by Jason Ayres
Kay crept into the room and managed to find a baggy, black T-shirt, some socks and some underwear. These would do. She took them back to her own room and put them on, along with the pair of jeans she had worn the previous day. She knew there was no way she would have squeezed into a pair of Maddie’s, so they would have to do.
Fully dressed, she looked into the full-length mirror on the front of one of the wardrobe doors to see the angel looking back at her. Kay noticed that her reflection was wearing a truly horrible Christmas jumper with reindeers and red lights on it.
“Merry Christmas,” said the angel. “Like the outfit?”
“It’s hideous,” replied Kay.
“Well, you should know,” replied the angel. “You wore this on Christmas Day in 1996.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Kay. “Alan bought it for me and insisted I wore it all day. That’s one Christmas I’d rather forget.”
“Well, I think it’s fair to say you’re going to have a better one this year,” replied the angel. “I imagine it’s going to be a lot better than you were expecting before I came along.”
“I certainly am,” replied Kay. “I’m going to be having double the fun this year. With your help, I’m going to have two Christmas Days.”
“I thought as much,” replied the angel. “So, where are we off to? I’m guessing it won’t be 1996.”
“Definitely not,” replied Kay. “I was hoping you might help me pick a year, actually. I want to go back to a Christmas Day when I was a child. I can’t really distinguish one from another, so it’s hard to pick a particular year. I would ask for one when there was a proper white Christmas, but I’m pretty sure there has never been one, not one I can remember, anyway.”
“It depends what you mean by a proper one,” said the angel.
“I mean one when there are several inches falling on Christmas morning and you can go out and build a snowman,” replied Kay.
“Believe it or not, around here, you would have to go back to 1938 for that. There have been years more recently with the odd sleety shower, or some snow lying on the ground from earlier in the week, but nothing that fits your definition.”
“Forget the snow, then,” said Kay. “I just want to go back and spend the day with my mum and dad, and maybe my grandparents, too. They all died when I was a teenager, so it needs to be before then, but not too young. I’ve no desire to find myself wearing nappies. You can see into the depths of my memories, so can you reach inside and pick me out a good year?”
“I think I can,” said the angel, browsing through Kay’s past Christmas Days, including long-buried memories that Kay would struggle to recall by herself. “How does 1985 sound?”
“I would have been ten,” replied Kay. “That sounds perfect. Now, before you go, can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead,” replied the angel.
“It’s about the future,” said Kay.
“You know the rules. I can’t tell you about the future.”
“It’s only a little thing, to do with what I said earlier about snow at Christmas,” replied Kay. “It’s just that I am so fed up with year after year watching TV ads and Christmas specials with everything covered in snow, not to mention all the decorations and cards. Then, when Christmas Day comes, there’s not a hint of snow this side of the Arctic Circle. I just want to know one thing. In my lifetime, will I ever see a proper white Christmas?”
“Wait until 2029,” replied the angel. “You’ll have more snow then than you know what to do with.”
“Well, that’s alright, then,” said Kay. “It’s something to look forward to.”
“You might not say that when the time comes,” replied the angel. “Have you ever seen that film The Day After Tomorrow?”
“That bad?” asked Kay.
“Yes, that bad,” replied the angel. “Still, don’t worry about that for now. It’s a long way off, just be prepared when the time comes. As for today, a return trip to 1985, wasn’t it?”
“It certainly was,” replied Kay. “Let’s get going.”
She swiftly found herself back in her childhood room, the same one she had recently woken up in aged eighteen. It had been summer then, but this time the room was dark, only the ladybird nightlight that had comforted her as a small child casting any light into the gloom.
Getting out of bed, she opened the curtains to see that it was still semi-dark outside. Her bedroom at the back of the house looked out across the playing fields where she had spent so many happy hours as a kid. The skies were clear and there was an orange glow on the horizon illuminating the branches of the trees which stood starkly, devoid of leaves, on the far side of the park. Sunrise was still several minutes away.
A single bright star, or maybe a planet, was still visible glowing brightly just above the trees in the semi-dark skies. It brought to mind the Star of Bethlehem.
She crossed to the switch by the door and flicked it on, lighting up her room which was quite different to the last time she had seen it. Now at an earlier stage of its evolution, the posters on the wall were pin-ups from Smash Hits of Duran Duran and Wham! The centrepiece was of A-ha, triggering memories from Kay of her first crush on Morten Harket.
The room was full of toys and books, which she couldn’t resist browsing through. Enid Blyton featured heavily on her bookshelves and she remembered how eagerly she had devoured The Famous Five and Malory Towers series at around this age. She picked one of the books now and began to flick through it.
Distracted by the unmistakable clink of coffee cups from the kitchen, she rushed downstairs, eager to see her parents. An hour later, after a family breakfast of bacon and eggs, the three of them were sitting under the Christmas tree opening their presents.
Despite the fact she had been here before, Kay’s presents were still a surprise to her. She couldn’t remember exactly what presents she had got in which year, and was able to guess very few from the shapes.
From My Little Pony to Spirograph, each one she opened brought back a special memory of its own. The delight on her face was possibly greater than it had been the first time around. It was the sheer nostalgic joy of it all that was filling her with happiness. The look was not lost on her parents, just as happy as she was as they watched their little girl’s face light up.
While Mum cooked the dinner, she and Dad played Mouse Trap, another new present. It seemed a lot more solid than the modern version she had bought more recently for her daughter. A lot of things had been redesigned over the years, thought Kay, and not always for the better. You couldn’t beat the classic designs.
When Dad headed off to the pub at midday for a Christmas drink, Kay flicked on the TV to find the bearded face of a youthful-looking Noel Edmonds grinning back at her from on top of the BT Tower. She wasn’t Edmonds’ biggest fan, but the nostalgia factor was compensation on this occasion, particularly when The Krankies appeared.
At 12.30pm her maternal grandparents arrived, two people very dear to her. She had loved visiting their big, old house in Yorkshire as a kid, with its roaring, open fireplace and outside toilet which froze over in the winter. They brought more presents, including Monopoly, which her grandfather claimed to be world champion at.
Dinner was meant to be at 1pm, but her dad’s tardy return from the pub meant that it was another half an hour before they were all sitting down around the table. The food was delicious, as her mother’s cooking always had been. She had a special way of making the roast potatoes extra crispy that no one else had ever bettered, including Kay herself. She must ask her the secret while she had the chance.
Throughout the meal everyone was joking and laughing, even at the awful cracker jokes which were one of those things, like air travel, which seemed unchanged by the passing of time. Kay made sure she savoured every mouthful of food and every moment of conversation while she was at the table, appreciating how lucky she was to be seeing these special people again this one last time.
By a quarter to three, they had all r
epaired to the living room in preparation for The Queen’s Speech. When her father switched the TV back on, she was able to catch the last few minutes of the annual Christmas edition of Top of the Pops, where Wham! were performing “I’m Your Man”.
“Ooh, I like him,” said her grandmother about George Michael. “Hasn’t he got lovely teeth?”
Kay had liked him, too; more than that, she had adored him. He had been her first crush, at the age of nine. It made no difference when his true sexuality was revealed many years later – her adoration never faded.
Now she was reminded of another Christmas Day, only a couple of years ago, when she had learnt of George’s death. It had been at the end of a year when The Grim Reaper had taken more than his fair share of the pop icons Kay had grown up with. The loss of George had hit her more than any of the others. It was as if part of her childhood had been taken away forever. Alan hadn’t cared, but then he never did, scoffing at her grief, saying she had never met him so why should she care? He never understood anything.
After The Queen’s Speech, her grandfather asked to turn over to ITV to watch the Bond film, then promptly fell asleep during the opening credits. While he snored away, Kay played gin rummy for pennies with her grandmother, who according to her had been a bit of a legend at the card tables in her younger days. She couldn’t have been that great because Kay always won, though she suspected that her grandmother let her.
At teatime, her mother put on a fabulous spread of cold cuts, pastries and other nibbles. It was way more food than five people could eat, but people always overcatered at Christmas. With no shops open again until the 27th, she had ensured that there would be plenty of food to keep the family going.
Kay took full advantage. This was one of the only occasions in her life when she could feast to her heart’s content and not have to worry about the consequences for her waistline. This didn’t go unnoticed by the family.
“By heck, your lass has got a good appetite on her,” remarked her grandfather, as Kay wolfed down the pork pies and slices of her mother’s delicious home-baked honey roast ham.
Later they played charades and then watched the Only Fools and Horses Christmas special, leading her to conclude that Christmas TV really had been better in the past.
The day had been pretty much perfect in every respect. The angel had picked a good year. By 9pm she was ready for bed, but Christmas was not yet over. She would get to do it all over again tomorrow.
Chapter Seventeen
December 2018
Back in the present day, Kay took her leave of the angel quickly. Not only did she have a Christmas dinner to cook, but she also had to go out and get back before Maddie woke up. She had bought her daughter a Christmas present but had left it in the flat.
It was mild and cloudy outside, not at all festive, but quite pleasant to be walking in compared to the cold of recent days. There was something special about going out for a walk on Christmas morning. It was different from any other day of the year. You could guarantee everyone you met, from kids to dog walkers, would greet you with a cheery smile and a “Merry Christmas”.
She still wished there was snow, though. Never mind, only another eleven years to wait, according to the angel.
From the new estate, the quickest way to the flat was across the park, the same one where she had lost her virginity to Glen on the night of the summer ball all those years ago. Normally it was a quiet place, but today there was something going on. At the far side of the park, just past the children’s playground, was a wooded area where she normally cut through the trees. This route brought her out onto the main road, only a few minutes’ walk from the chip shop.
As Kay got closer she could see the whole wooded area was sealed off with police tape, warning people not to cross. There were several police officers there. It looked as if there had been some major incident. Swerving past the woods, and diverting further up the park, she reached the main road about a hundred yards further up than she usually did, via the park’s main entrance.
As she walked down the road towards town she could see a number of police and other vehicles around the area. She also recognised Seema Mistry, the local TV news reporter with a crew at the scene. It must be something big if it had brought her out on Christmas morning.
The pavement where the path came out of the woods was sealed off, too, and a young policeman directed her to the other side of the road.
“What’s going on here?” she asked him.
“I’m not at liberty to say, madam,” he said. “But we need to keep this area clear. Please cross to the other pavement and keep walking.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” replied Kay, and crossed to the other side of the road. She would be coming back this way after she had been to the flat. Maybe she could find a more forthcoming policeman who would tell her more then.
The chip shop was deserted, as she had hoped it would be. It was also a complete mess, chip papers strewn everywhere and empty beer bottles and litter all over the floor. It was often a mess on weekend mornings, but never this bad. The townsfolk had clearly had a good party last night.
She let herself in and made her way up to the flat. It was dark and dingy inside, leading her to reach instinctively for the light switch, but nothing happened. The same went for the light switch in the bathroom. It seemed McVie had made good on his promise to cut her electricity off.
No matter, she would never have to see the inside of this hovel again after this morning. She reached under the bed and pulled out the battered suitcase that had been there since the day she moved in, preparing to stuff what meagre belongings she wanted to keep into it.
The bottom drawer of the chest of drawers came off in her hand as she opened it, not for the first time. Inside, she found the necklace she had bought for Maddie, several weeks before. She hadn’t wrapped it up, not having known until yesterday if she was even going to see her over Christmas. No matter, there was still time when she got back to the house. There must be some wrapping paper there somewhere.
As for the creaky furniture, cheap portable TV and the rest of the crap in the flat, she decided to abandon it. In the end all she ended up taking was a few toiletries and half her clothes, abandoning the rest. They weren’t even worth bagging up for a charity shop, the state they were in. As far as she was concerned, this wasn’t her problem anymore. McVie could deal with it.
As she left the flat for what she hoped would be the last time, she felt like she had just ticked off another box on her quest for salvation. She was free of the dump at last! Or so she thought. Unknown to her, circumstances would bring her back to the flat again sooner than she expected.
She was halfway dragging her suitcase across the chip shop floor when her mobile rang in her handbag. This caught her by surprise. Her mobile hadn’t exactly been ringing off the hook recently.
She fumbled quickly in her bag, desperate to get to the phone before it clicked over to voicemail. Grabbing hold of it, she was surprised to see who was calling. It was Kent.
“Hello,” she said, “and Merry Christmas!”
Kent didn’t return her greeting, a sense of urgency in his voice as he said, “Have you seen the news?”
“No,” replied Kay. “Why? What’s happened?”
“There’s been another murder,” replied Kent. “Right here in town. The Christmas Killer has struck again.”
“So that’s what all the police and reporters were about,” said Kay. “I saw them earlier up by the park.”
“Yes, that’s where it happened,” replied Kent. “I’m watching it on telly right now. Can you switch the TV on?”
“I’m not at home,” replied Kay. There was the telly in the flat but she wasn’t going back up there, and in any case the electricity had been cut off.
“Well, I’m watching it and it looks pretty grisly. Another young girl apparently – raped and murdered on the woody path last night. Speaking of which, where were you last night? I thought you would have been down
the pub.”
“I decided to have a quiet night in,” replied Kay. “I’ll explain more later.”
“Well, that’s brings me on to the purpose of my call,” said Kent. “I need to see you later – can we meet?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Kay. “I’m sure your wife won’t be too pleased with you leaving her at home on Christmas Day. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
Much as she would enjoy spending some more time with Kent, Kay had already planned to spend the day at home with her daughter.
“It can’t wait until tomorrow,” replied Kent. “It’s about the murders. I know how we – or rather, you – can solve them. If we leave it another day, someone else could die.”
It wasn’t difficult to work out what he had in mind.
“I see where you’re coming from,” replied Kay. “Listen, I need to get back home now. I’ve already taken my trip back in time for today, so we can’t do any more until the morning. Let me think about it, and we’ll try and have a get-together and a proper chat later.”
“OK,” replied Kent. “Craig said he’s opening the pub for a couple of hours tonight, just for the regulars. Can you get down there, then?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” replied Kay. “Speak later.”
It was obvious that he was going to ask her to go back in time to unmask the murderer. She was going to have to go back past the scene of the crime to get home, so it would be a good time to try and see what more she could find out. Walking back up the road, she double-checked exactly where the incident had taken place. Quite clearly it had been somewhere on the woody path between the road and the park.
She tried speaking to another policeman at the scene but was met with the same stony-faced, tight-lipped response as before. She would be better off putting the news on at home.