by Clare Revell
“Not made for two, are they?” Jo giggled.
“Not really.” He picked up the receiver and slid his card into the slot. “You’d better start. I don’t know the number.”
Jo nodded and dialed. “Of course, it’s the middle of night at home, but too bad.”
“Maybe we should wait until later then.”
“Nope, it’s ringing.” She stayed silent for a moment, then spoke, “Hi, Dad, it’s Jo. Yeah, everything’s fine. John wants to speak to you. John, the guy I’m staying with in England—with his parents, I mean. Yeah, sure, here he is.” She handed John the phone and gave him a thumbs up.
John swallowed and took a deep breath. He covered the phone. “He does know who I am, right?”
“Sure. It takes him a little while to wake up.”
He nodded. “OK. Hello, Mr. Heywood. This is John Connington, from England.”
The deep sleepy voice echoed down the phone, the Australian twang evident. “Hello, John. How are you?”
“I’m fine, sir. And you?”
“Tired. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry to wake you. I was wondering if I could marry your daughter.”
Jo leaned in trying to overhear what her father was saying. John held the phone between them hoping the sound would carry enough.
“Uh, um, ah, oh,” her father stammered.
That didn’t sound hopeful. John almost hung up. I should have phoned before I went to bed, when they’d have been awake.
Then in the background he heard Jo’s stepmother. “Just say yes, dear.”
Jo laughed and covered her mouth with a hand.
John grinned and winked at her. “I promise I’ll look after her. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”
“Yes, you can marry her.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you speak to her now.” He handed Jo the phone and left the phone box so she could talk in private.
He stood in the cold, his heart overflowing with joy. Thank you, Lord. Help us as we work out the details as to where we live and so on. Put us where we can serve You the best.
Jo came back out, having finished the call. She gave him his card and looked at him. “I can’t believe this. A month ago I didn’t know you, and now we’re engaged.”
“Are you regretting it already?” He slid his card back into his wallet.
“No,” she playfully hit his arm. “I’ll never do that.”
“Dorrie always told me Miss Right lived in Australia and she did.”
Jo laughed. “Speaking of Australia. Where are we going to live?”
“In a house. With each other,” he deadpanned.
She shook her head. “Silly. I’m being serious.”
He winked. “So am I. I want to live with you. That is why I’m marrying you after all. Along with the fact that I love you.”
“I love you, too, but I live in Australia. The thing is, your family, your life, is here.”
He stopped walking and turned to face her. “My life is with you.”
She held his gaze. “Would you move to Australia?”
“Yes. In a heartbeat. Actually, I’ve already looked into visas and jobs. There’s a chemist position going in Sydney. They’re going to ring me after Christmas and do a telephone interview. And if nothing comes of that, then I’ll find a job when I move out there.”
“You’d give up everything for me?”
“Not everything, because I’d have you. We’ll go where God leads us. And if that’s the other side of the world, then that’s where we’ll go. He brought us together for a reason. We just have to wait to find out what that reason is.”
“But how will you tell your parents?”
“Not sure. But I’ll do it somehow.”
****
Very early the next morning, John crept downstairs into the lounge and put the tree lights on. He sat in the dark, watching them twinkling, thinking of Christmas’s past, how different today would be, and how wonderful all the Christmas’s yet to come would be with Jo at his side.
A soft hand touched his shoulder and then she was there beside him. “Can’t you sleep either?”
He wrapped his arm around her. “No. I was thinking of you.”
She snuggled into him, laying her head on his shoulder. “Funny. I was upstairs unable to sleep, thinking of you.”
“Happy Christmas, Jo,” he whispered, kissing her.
“Happy Christmas, John.” She kissed him back. “I could get used to this.”
“Kissing me in general or just under the tree?”
“Kissing you anywhere.”
“Good. Because we have a family tradition of kissing on New Year’s Eve throughout the twelve chimes of Big Ben.”
“I can’t wait. Maybe we should practice a little first.”
He grinned. “But do you want your pressie before or after we practice?”
“Yes.” Her eyes lit up at his teasing.
“That’s not an answer,” he chuckled.
“Yes it is. I want it before and after we practice. But I thought we had to wait until after the Queen’s speech at three o’clock for presents?”
“We do, but this is an extra one. Do you want to open it in here under the tree or outside?”
Jo hesitated. “That’s not a fair choice. I like both options.”
“It’s snowing. Tell you what.” He dragged her into the conservatory and turned on the candle bridge and smaller tree. “You can have both.” He opened the patio door and led her out into the snowy garden. Gentle flakes fell from the sky, landing on her hair and eye lashes.
He dropped to one knee and pulled the ring box from his pocket. “Jo, I love you with all that I am. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Her smile made his joy complete. “Yes.”
He slid the ring onto her finger and stood, not caring his trousers were soaked from the knees downwards. He kissed her thoroughly, leaving them both breathless, but more alive than he’d been in a long time.
He broke off as the kitchen light flicked on, shining across the garden illuminating the two of them. “We should probably go and tell them.”
“Probably.” She looked down at her ring. “Thank you, my unexpected angel, for making my life complete.”
He nuzzled her gently. “I think you’re the angel—an Aussie Christmas angel. A real answer to prayer. But this discussion can wait until later. Let’s go inside.”
She took his hand and walked inside with him.
He looked at his parents, his smile widening and matching the grins on their faces as they took in the two of them and the ring. “Mum, Dad, we have something to tell you.”
****
After church, Jo helped Liz with dinner. “I never realized there were so many components to an English Christmas dinner. I honestly thought John was kidding when he told me.”
“It’s surprising, but it’ll all get eaten.” Liz smiled. “It’s really good news about you and John.”
“You don’t mind? I don’t want to take him away from you and Vic. But we could end up in Sydney.”
“I’m not saying we won’t miss him, because we will, but he needs to go where God wants him. God went to a lot of effort to get the two of you together, so He must have plans. Far be it for us to stand in His way.” She smiled. “Besides, we can always visit.”
Jo hugged her. “We’d like that.”
The doorbell rang and the house immediately became chaotic as the rest of the family arrived. John introduced her to his other sisters as his fiancée, and she was hugged and the ring admired. Presents piled high under the tree and the kids warned not to touch.
“So when can we open them?” Taylor asked for the thousandth time.
“After the Queen’s speech.”
“But that will wait ages,” he complained.
John grinned, seeming used to Taylor’s sometimes nonsensical speech. “My sentiments exactly. But Grandma never said we couldn’t look. So why don’t we let
Grandad carve, and we’ll go look with Auntie Jo. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
John threw Taylor over his shoulder and ran off with him. “Me, too. Maybe I just eat you instead. Then I get your presents.”
Taylor howled in laughter.
Jo grinned and followed them into the lounge where the rest of the family were listening to carols and chatting. John would make a great dad one day.
He belonged to her now. Just like she belonged to him.
“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered, following him.
****
Over dinner, Taylor looked up. “Ki John, where are you going to live when you marry Jo?”
“That’s Auntie Jo, and we haven’t decided yet. But you can come and visit us wherever we end up living.”
“Why not live here?”
“Because it’s cold here.” John laughed.
Jo winked at him. “I always said God would import someone for me to marry. I never thought He’d really do it.”
Vic smiled, handing her the gravy. “I bet you didn’t expect this when you came over.”
She took the jug. “Thank you. No I didn’t. Not in a million years. I honestly wondered if I’d done the right thing from his reaction when I got here. He seemed less than pleased to see me at the airport.”
John winked. “You can talk. First time we spoke, you all but hung up the phone on me.”
“Well, a strange man rings out of the blue and asks to stay in my house…what did you expect?”
“Not to find love.” John grinned. “But I did.”
Jo held his gaze. “This is what happens when you entertain strangers. You get an angel.”
He chinked his glass against hers. “To my Aussie Christmas angel.”
A Note from the Author.
This is based on a true story. Virtually everything you have just read really happened as written. Names have been changed to protect the innocent…wait wrong book. Sorry. John and Jo chose their own names in this story. (Whispers, “They picked their middle names”).
My brother went to Sydney where he met Miss Right through a friend of a friend of our youngest sister, when he had nowhere booked to stay. That first phone call between John and Jo actually occurred, pretty much word for word. And she really did almost hang up on him.
My sister-in-law had been adamant God would import a man for her, and then really did get angry with God when He did exactly that and then took him away.
A few things have been tempered by poetic license. After all, twelve years on, no one can remember exact conversations. The timeline has been condensed from a few months to a few weeks. And some events moved from one place to another. The singing incident took place on a bus in Capri not on a boat in Paris.
My brother wanted to call this story When Aussie met Pommy and as tempting as that was, I decided against it. Although that was probably as daft as some of the other titles we came up with before deciding on An Aussie Christmas Angel.
I hope they don’t mind the way I took their story and changed it a little. John can always carry out his ‘threat’ and write the story behind the true story. Thanks guys for letting me immortalize you. Kind of had to after someone told me it was a cuter story than a fairy story. (No, neither of you are the fairy, before you start accusing me of anything.) And I was finally right about something. Miss Right really did live in Australia.
God really does move in mysterious ways. And He really does move mountains—and continents—to get His people where He wants them. And nothing is too hard for Him.
Jo’s Strawberry, Kiwi, and Passion Fruit Pavlova.
4 large egg whites (1/2 cup) at room temperature
Pinch of salt
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided
1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar or cider vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract or vanilla flavoring
(certified Kosher for Passover)
1 cup whipping cream
3 cups sliced strawberries (15 oz.)
1 cup sliced peeled kiwi fruit (8 oz.)
3 tablespoons of passion fruit, diced
Preparation
Preheat oven to 250°F/120°C/½ gas mark—very cool oven. Trace an 8-in. circle on a piece of parchment paper with a pencil. Place it pencil side down on a baking sheet.
Put egg whites and salt in a large, very clean bowl. Beat with a handheld or stand mixer on high speed (preferably with whisk attachment) until foamy. Gradually add 1 cup sugar, a few tablespoons at a time, beating well after each addition, until stiff, shiny peaks form (4 to 5 minutes). Beat in vinegar and vanilla just until blended.
Mound meringue onto traced circle on baking sheet, spreading to fill and mounding edges slightly higher than center.
Bake until meringue is firm and pale golden brown, about 1½ hours. Crack oven door and let Pavlova cool completely, about 2 hours more. Carefully remove from baking sheet and transfer to a platter (it’s normal for crust to crack a little).
In a bowl, with a mixer on high speed, beat whipping cream just until soft peaks form. Turn mixer to low and beat in remaining 2 tablespoons sugar.
Just before serving, top Pavlova with whipped cream, strawberries, sliced kiwi, and passion fruit. Cut into 8 wedges.
Thank you for purchasing this White Rose Publishing title. For other inspirational stories, please visit our on-line bookstore at www.pelicanbookgroup.com.
For questions or more information, contact us at [email protected].
White Rose Publishing
Where Faith is the Cornerstone of Love™
an imprint of Pelican Ventures Book Group
www.PelicanBookGroup.com
May God’s glory shine through
this inspirational work of fiction.
AMDG