The night before Christmas
All alone at work after dark, she came across something strange. Was it a message?
Joy was determined to have a perfect Christmas, even if it meant doing the late shift on Christmas Eve. And what a long haul it was. The queues were a mile long so she had to help out on the tills, folding dresses and scarves, smiling at the harassed last-minute shoppers.
By the time her shift was over she was cross-eyed with tiredness, her feet throbbing. But as store supervisor, it was her job to stay on until the last of her team had gone home. Now she found herself alone on the shop floor. It was vast and lonely, other-worldly somehow, with no glimpse of the weather outside; no sense of day or night. She felt spooked, as if something might be lurking behind a fixture or as if the mannequins were spying on her. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Alone in the staffroom, she got changed, not wanting anyone on the tram to see her in her staff uniform. All the while, there was that same unnerving sensation of being watched. She heard a bump behind her, and reeled around in fright. But there was nothing to see but a row of lockers. It was probably just her imagination working overtime.
Leaving the staffroom she made her way down the quiet corridor, her footsteps echoing as she glanced nervously over her shoulder. In an attempt to distract herself she thought about the big day ahead, making a mental note to take the turkey out of the freezer as soon as she got home.
Her two grown-up children, Joseph and Carol, were coming.
Joy had remembered the visitors’ parking permits this year, so there would be no problem over parking arrangements. And soon she would get to cuddle her darling grandchildren again.
Then there was the main event to look forward to: present opening time. She pictured herself with a glass of Buck’s Fizz in her hand and a huge pile of gifts around her waiting to be unwrapped. She always got far more presents than everyone else put together. If that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.
Suddenly a shiver ran through her. Why was it so cold all of a sudden? She looked around her – and realised she had no idea where she was. She must have taken a wrong turn in the labyrinth of corridors. Pushing through a pair of double doors Joy found herself in a cavernous dimly lit space. This was a part of the mall entirely new to her.
She felt very alone, and none too safe.
What choice did she have but to find a way out? Finally she arrived at a large sliding door and stepped into the open air. To her great surprise, it was snowing heavily, and a biting wind howled around her.
Through swirling snowflakes, she could just make out two rows of dull orange circles receding into the distance, which
She heard a bump behind her, and reeled around in fright. But there was nothing to see
she supposed were street lights. She plodded wearily towards them, hoping they might lead to the familiar sight of the tram station, buffeted by the gale as her feet sank into a thick carpet of snow. A tall factory chimney loomed out of the blizzard, and the shape of dark and dingy warehouses came into view. She was sure she’d never noticed them before.
And then she heard it; a shrill voice amidst the gale. It sounded like the pitiful wail of a child. Perhaps some poor little thing had got lost, or had been abandoned. She knew she should investigate, but felt weary beyond belief, her thoughts fixed on the promise of those prettily wrapped presents and the thrill of being spoilt rotten. Turning, she began to retrace her footprints back to the mall.
But the dreadful wailing started up again, louder than before. With a great effort of will, Joy turned and headed towards the direction of the sound.
At last a vague shape emerged slowly out of the flurry of snow not far ahead. As she approached, the vision took clearer form. It was a little girl, wearing a hood, a shawl, a wide skirt and boots, like a waif from olden times. Joy knew she should help, but something about the creature made her hesitate. She steeled herself and stepped forward, her heart hammering. In response, the waif began to move jerkily towards her.
Joy was frozen to the spot. It was only now she saw that the child wore a brace on one leg, and one side of her face was scarred by a palsy. An eerie childlike voice began to sing, as if from the bottom of a well.
“Once in royal David’s city stood a lowly cattle shed…”
The faint wavering rendition summoned echoes of Christmases past which struck at Joy’s heart. She got down on her knees, oblivious to the cold snow on the ground, and reached out to the child.
But just as her arms closed around her, a great gust whipped the snow into a frenzy, and the apparition dissolved and dispersed.
“Well, it must have been a dream,” mused
Joy, propped up on pillows in her hospital bed. “Thank heavens the security guard found me. Out cold I was, in the passage outside the staffroom. But I feel much better now. In fact, the doctor said my heart is the best it’s been in years.”
She was surrounded by her family – her husband, children and three grandchildren. The little ones lolled on the bed, gazes glued to the electronic toys Santa had brought them.
“The lengths your mother will go to avoid making Christmas dinner,” quipped Joy’s husband, Pete.
“Well, it’s the big moment, Mum,” said Carol, handing her mother a plastic beaker.
“Only orange juice, but we’ll have Buck’s
Fizz when you get home tomorrow. Like you always tell us, it’s the highlight of your year, opening your Christmas presents. Let’s get this party started.”
But Joy was lost in her thoughts. “Strange to think that when I was a little girl all we got were one or two gifts, and we were perfectly happy with that.”
Her family exchanged puzzled looks. She turned to look at each of them in turn, a tear glittering in her eye.
“After all,” she said, “who needs presents when you’ve got your loved ones around you?”