Snowballs and snow

It all started with a snowball.

         Cassie was playing silly beggars with Ellie, throwing snow around, making snowballs and generally acting daft.  Well she was only twenty-three and for Ellie at four and a bit this was her first real snowfall.  So there they were, outside the house, making a snowman and the odd snowball.   The murky sky was tinged a sulphurous yellow and the snowflakes, falling thick and fast settled on the ground and their noses.  The air was very cold.

         Cassie, whilst bending over to pat the snowman had had a rather wet lump of snow stuffed down her neck by a giggling Ellie. 

         ‘Right, I’ll get you.’ She squashed up a large fistful of snow and threw it.

         Horror froze her bones, more than the snow ever could.  ‘Oh I’m so sorry.’  She stared in consternation, Ellie had jumped and it had hit the old man next door, squarely in his back.  She watched him stagger and grab the wall. 

         In the seconds she was saying, ‘Are you all right?  I’m so sorry.’  She moved, her feet slid out from under her on the ice and she landed with a sickening thump on her bottom.

Cassie’s face screwed up in pain.  ‘Oh.’ She groaned.  Panic set in, how was she going to manage Christmas now?  There was food to get and last minute treats.

 Ellie ran over, ‘Are you all right?   Whass the matter Cassie?’

Cassie tried to stand up, she was soaked, water was trickling coldly down her neck and her back had shooting pains protesting up and down her spine.

         Her neighbour was standing by her offering a hand.  ‘Here, let’s get you up, although perhaps we shouldn’t move you.  Shall I call an ambulance?’

         ‘No, no.’ said Cassie in a fright, ‘I’m all right, no bones broken.’  Slowly and carefully she eased herself up watched by Ellie and the man. 

         ‘Take my arm,’ he said, ‘Let’s get you inside.’

         Her kitchen was warm and cosy and she stripped off as much as she decently could.  Ellie pulled her outdoor clothes off and left them in a puddle on the floor.  Cassie sat on a cushion and watched the neighbour make her tea. 

         ‘It’s Mr Hemingford, isn’t it?’  He didn’t look as old as she had thought he was.

         ‘Yes.’ He answered pleasantly, ‘and you’re Cassie and you, young lady are Ellie.  I’ve heard you talking in the garden.’ He explained.  ‘Now how does your back feel?  You’ve probably bruised it.’

         Cassie moved and it was torture.  She bit her lip, her face white. 

         ‘Drink your tea and then I’ll bring the car round, we’re going to Casualty.  Just to check, nothing more.’

         ‘I can get a taxi.’ She protested.

         He shook his head, ‘They won’t want to come out in this weather. It’s not far, we’ll take it steady.’

         It was a rather nice feeling for Cassie, to be looked after, used as she was to fending for herself. 

         Ten minutes layer Ellie was wearing clean, dry clothes and Cassie had a warm fleece and soft jogging bottoms on.  With Mr Hemingford’s arm she slowly negotiated her steps and the short path.  His car was waiting, the engine running.

         At the hospital he left her and went to fetch a porter who came back with a wheelchair.  With Ellie trotting beside her they went into Casualty.   Fortunately there were not too many people but they still had to wait a while.

         ‘This is so kind of you.’ She murmured as she watched Ellie eat the sandwiches and drink the milkshake he had bought at the café. 

         ‘Your coccyx is probably bruised.’ A young doctor told her, ‘but we’ll get an x-ray done to be on the safe side.’  Cassie nodded, feeling quite shattered by the examination and having to turn over onto her front.  Ellie sat with her. A nurse had given her a stethoscope to play with.

         An hour later, with a packet of painkillers and instructions to rest, as if she could do anything else, she tottered out to the car.

         ‘I’m sorry Ell, we’ll have a quiet Christmas now.’ She said as they drove home.

         ‘Is Father Christmas going to come?’

         ‘Yes Ell, he’ll be coming.  I wish now we’d gone to see Santa Claus in the grotto at Debenhams.’ she told Mr Hemingford.  He’d said please, call me Jack, then I can call you Cassie.

         ‘When I picked her up from school it was snowing so hard I thought we’d make the most of it.’

         The snow had stopped, but it was crunchy underfoot.  House decorations flashed and sparkled and streetlights glowed in the crisp, cold air. 

         Jack stood in their doorway, ‘I’ll say goodnight, let me know if there’s anything I can do?’ 

         ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ her pain killing injection had taken effect but she felt light headed.

         She micro-waved two bowls of thick vegetable soup and toasted bread.  It was nearly eight o’clock and Ellie was drooping.

         ‘Bed sweetheart, I’ll come up in a minute.’

         She felt better after food but had decided that once she’d gone upstairs she wouldn’t come down again.  She rinsed the bowls and plates, made some milky cocoa, turned off the lights and slowly made her way upstairs. 

         ‘Are you going to bed Cassie?’

         ‘I’m going to read a bit and watch television, see you in the morning.’  She kissed the soft cheek, trying to avoid bending over. 

         ‘I’m not showering, I’m getting into bed with my wheat bag.’ She muttered, assembling drinks, painkillers and a book by her bed.  ‘Thank goodness I’ve got Ellie some presents.’

         Next morning they were up late.  Her lower back felt very sore but she thought she could cope.   A knock sounded on the front door and Ellie ran to it.

         ‘Hello, how are you this morning?’ it was Jack, framed with a bright blue sky, and smiling.

         ‘Come in.’ called Cassie, ‘I’m just making coffee.’

         ‘How are you?’ His voice was concerned.

         ‘Fine.’ She said brightly, ‘Well, it’s very sore.’

         ‘Do you need any shopping?’

         Cassie thought of the big shop she had been going to do and knew it was impossible but she couldn’t ask Jack to bring everything.  Somehow they would manage, Christmas Day didn’t have to have roast and the whole works – did it?

         ‘Some bread and milk would be handy please.’

         ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else?  Some fruit or vegetables?’

         ‘Well, if you can manage it, some satsumas and broccoli.’

         He came back with a large boxfull just as they were sitting down to a pizza at lunchtime. 

         ‘Please Jack, have some lunch with us?’

         ‘I’ll do it, shall I?  Ellie can show me where the pizzas are in the freezer.’

         ‘What a lovely tree.’ He admired as they went into the living room after their lunch. ‘Did you do it?’

         Ellie beamed, ‘Yes, I put the tinsel on and the fairy.’  

         Jack made some tea and stayed with them and their afternoon passed pleasantly.  They played snakes and ladders and snap.  Cassie looked at Jack and thought how nice he was, like having a kindly grandfather.

         He wouldn’t stay for tea but said in a low voice to Cassie,

         ‘I’m getting fish and chips on the corner about seven, would you like some?’

         Thank you God, thought Cassie. ‘Please, take this, for the shopping and that.’ She gave him twenty pounds.

         ‘It’s too much.’

         ‘Not for all that food you bought – no way.’

         By sitting on a chair in the bathroom Cassie could give Ellie a bath and together, with some giggling, they managed to dry and dress her in cosy, pink pyjamas.  Cassie read the book of nursery rhymes for the fiftieth time and tiptoed out.

         One knock at the door told her Jack was there and with a glass of wine each they sat in front of her electric log fire and ate fish and chips out of the paper.

         ‘So will you have family with you at Christmas?’ she asked.

         ‘No, my nephew might come in but he works shifts.  My brother and his family live in Spain, I could go but they have a houseful.  I’ll go in January for a few weeks, when it’s quieter.  What about you?’

         ‘No, my friend I spent last year with, well she’s got problems and she’s going up to her Mum in Liverpool.  I don’t feel like travelling at the moment, so we’ll stay here.’

         He watched her, such a pretty girl to be on her own.  ‘Come in to me if you’d like.  I only cook some turkey breast, but I like all the trimmings.  And, I’d like your company and Ellie.’  He hated Christmas now.  Since Judith had died it was a bleak time.  If this girl only knew how glad he would be of their company. 

         Cassie stared at the fire, at the mock flames that never changed.  She hardly knew the man, but he seemed so nice.  ‘Thanks, we’d like to.’

         On Christmas Eve Jack fetched in a Chinese takeaway for them and all three sat with lots of dishes, helping themselves.  Ellie was enchanted with it and had to be chivvied to bed with the usual maxim,

         ‘If you don’t go to sleep Father Christmas won’t come.’

         Jack had stayed whilst she tucked Ellie up.  When she came down he smiled at her, ‘It’s been a grand evening, thank you so much.’

         ‘You got the food.’

         ‘But it’s so much nicer with company.’

         Cassie inclined her head, ‘Now I must wrap Ellie’s presents.  Jack, open another bottle of wine.’  She enjoyed his company.  It wasn’t like having favours from a young man who then expected you to go to bed.  This was pleasant and undemanding.

         On Christmas morning Ellie woke at half past seven and trailed into Cassie’s room with her stocking. 

         She climbed into bed with her and Cassie leaned over gingerly and kissed her,

         ‘Happy Christmas sweetheart.’

         ‘Farver Chrissmas has been.’

         Cassie smiled and watched her rip the paper off the gifts, a small book about donkeys, a packet of felt tips and some sweets.  There was also a little, furry glove puppet monkey and they had a game of it popping up amongst the duvet.

         ‘Come on Ell, settle down a bit and we’ll have a snooze, seeing as we don’t have to cook dinner.’

         She didn’t hear Jack scraping and sweeping her steps and path.

         The doctors surgery where she was secretary had given her a large box of chocolates for Christmas but she re-wrapped them and with two bottles of wine prepared to go next door.  Ellie had a bag of new toys with her and at twelve o’clock they opened their door to see a clear, swept path.

         Holding onto the wall, carrying her bag, she walked round to next door.  Jack was waiting, his face beaming, ‘Happy Christmas, come in.’

         His front room had a lovely coal fire, with a fireguard and a dining table by the window.  It was laid for four.

         Sitting at the kitchen table Cassie helped to prepare vegetables.  Jack seemed to have everything under control and there was a delicious savoury smell.  Ellie showed Jack her puppet monkey, now called Mickey and played with giant Lego in the corner. 

         Outside, the sky had darkened and they watched silent snowflakes slip out of a leaden sky.

         Sipping a glass of Cabernet, Jack and Cassie stared out of the window, each glad of the company, the warm kitchen and Ellie’s bright chatter.

         ‘You’ve got four places laid?’

         ‘Well he might come.’

         At half past one, as they were serving up, dead on cue, the doorbell rang.

         Ellie ran, with Jack to see who it was.

         ‘It’s Farver Chrissmas.’ She shouted, ‘It’s Farver Chrissmas.’

         Cassie had limped to the hall. She saw a figure in red, with a sack, framed by the falling snow.

         ‘So it is.’ She laughed.

         Ellie danced on ahead and the figure shook himself of snow, dropped the sack and briefly hugged Jack.

         The little girl, her eyes bright with excitement watched as He pulled off a red jacket and hood to reveal a young man with a dark beard and a big grin.

         ‘I couldn’t quite do the Ho Ho Ho bit.’ He laughed.  In the hall, Cassie could see he was wearing jeans, Wellingtons and a dark red fleece. ‘Boy it’s cold out there.  I could eat a horse – or a reindeer.’

         ‘Have you got the reindeers?’ piped up Ellie.

         He shook his head and crouched down by her.  ‘I guess you’re Ellie.’

She nodded vigorously.  ‘And this is your mum, Cassie?’  Ellie nodded again, suddenly shy.

         ‘Actually, I’m not her Mum, but that’s another story.’

         ‘Later?’ he queried with a lift of a dark eyebrow.  Cassie smiled and shrugged.

         ‘Let’s have our dinner – shall we?’ Jack put the sack in the room by his little artificial tree. 

         Over lunch Cassie discovered this very nice young man was Mark Hemingford, Jack’s nephew.  He was a paramedic and had been on duty, so was really quite tired but with their delicious lunch and wine, followed by tiny portions of Christmas pudding because they could hardly manage another mouthful, he entertained them with the funnier side of his work.

         After they had cleared up Jack sat in his chair and dozed and Ellie fell asleep on the floor so Mark picked her up and laid her on the settee.  Cassie sat in a comfortable chair with Mark on the floor beside her. 

         ‘So, tell me, if you like, why you have Ellie.’

         ‘She’s my sister’s girl.  Serena is a model, out in Jamaica now, with swimwear, for the summer catalogues. I’ve had Ellie for over two years, it’s better than her living out of a suitcase and she’s in school.’

         ‘How do you manage that?’

         ‘I work half eight to half three.  Two days a week she goes to her friend Mary, I stay until six, two days a week Mary comes to us.  It works well, but next summer Serena will have to have her for the holidays – some of the time.’

         He looked at her.  She was so young and organised and pretty with her short, fair hair and soft brown eyes – quite a stunner in fact.

         When Ellie woke she was grumpy so Cassie sat with her until she’d cheered up and then Mark emptied his sack onto the floor.   There was something for everyone.

         ‘I havn’t bought you anything.’ Wailed Cassie.

         ‘I’ll think of something.’ He winked.

         There was a beautiful doll for Ellie; some lovely smellies for Cassie; a book about the Planes of the Second World War for Jack and Farver Chrismass had bought himself a CD.  They played the Mozart Piano concerto quietly as Ellie undressed her doll, now called Louisa Jane. 

         ‘So you are really Cassandra?’ Mark asked, sitting close up on the settee.

         ‘Nope.  Do you really want to know?’

         He shrugged, ‘Go on then…’

         ‘Casiopaeia.’

         ‘Good heavens, well it is actually, isn’t it?  What is it a star, or a constellation?’

         ‘I’m not sure.  I forgot it years ago.  Don’t even ask what my second name is.’

         ‘Which means I will.’

         She laughed, ‘I havn’t got one – thank goodness.  And Ellie is really Eleanor.’

         She looked at him, looking at her and the laughter died on her lips.  He bent forward and kissed her, quickly and sweetly.

         ‘Wow.’

         ‘I’m going out to clear the path.’ He got up and touched her hair in passing.

         Cassie and Ellie stayed until late.  They played games, ate turkey sandwiches and trifle and finished up with snakes and ladders.  Under a silvery moonlit sky, with their breath puffing in wisps Mark carried a sleeping Ellie into Cassie’s house. 

         She stirred as he carried her upstairs and opened her eyes. ‘Farver Chrismass.’

         ‘It’s me, Mark,’ he whispered.

         They took her shoes off, tucked her in bed and tiptoed out but as they closed the door they heard,

         ‘Thank you Baby Jesus, Farver Chrissmas came for me and Cassie.’

         ‘Ah, she’s cute.’

         Cassie put her arms around him.  He was the nicest guy she’d ever met. ‘It’s true. How many kisses make up one present?’

         ‘Too many for today,’ he nuzzled her ear. ‘Happy Chrissmas.’ They laughed.