Page 76 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘And that worked?’ Estelle asks in surprise.
‘Made them think long enough for us to leg it out of the pub and down the street! Isn’t that right, Chrissy?’
Christian nods. ‘So after we’d got far enough away from the pub, we decided that we’d better introduce ourselves. It seemed the polite thing to do since we were now betrothed to each other.’
Angela grins. ‘So after we’d said hello properly, we thought we deserved another drink. So we went to a new pub, and then another, and, before we knew it, it was midnight and we were dancing outside there in the snow. It was a great night, though … except for the punch-up of course.’
‘Didn’t you realise you had a head wound and were bleeding?’ Estelle asks, looking in astonishment at Christian.
‘Yeah, but I didn’t realise how bad it was. I think the alcohol must have numbed the pain. I just remember Ange saying we needed to cover my head if we wanted to get into any more pubs. So I acquired the bowler hat.’
‘Where from? All the shops are shut on Boxing Day.’
‘I bought it from a tramp on the street,’ Christian says, looking a little ashamed. ‘I paid him well for it. He seemed pleased anyway.’
‘What happened to your coat?’
‘Left it in the pub when we ran. Don’t worry, Estelle, one of my lot will have picked it up. I’ll get it back. Luckily my wallet was in the pocket of my trousers.’
Estelle sighs. ‘Sounds like you had a lucky escape.’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps it was meant to be.’ Christian grins at Angela. ‘I’ve met a new friend tonight, that I probably wouldn’t have met otherwise. A few bruises are a small price to pay for something as priceless as that!’
‘Ooh, ain’t you got a way with words,’ Angela says. ‘Ain’t he got a way with words, Estelle?’
‘Hmm,’ Estelle says, not looking at Christian with quite the same adoring look as Angela. ‘Pity he doesn’t use them a bit more often to get himself out of difficult situations.’
‘I’ll toast to that!’ Angela lifts her empty china cup and winks at Christian. ‘Cheers for the cup of tea, Estelle. It’s very kind of you. I guess I’d better get going soon.’
‘Stay the night,’ Christian says suddenly. ‘It’s the least I can do to say thanks. You can’t be heading out now in the snow. It’s freezing out there and you don’t have a coat either.’
‘Nah, I can’t be doing that. Estelle has been kind enough already. I’m sure it’s only a little covering.’ Angela pulls her borrowed dressing gown around her, skips over to the window and pulls back the curtains. Then she gasps. ‘Oh my Christ, would you look at that!’
‘What is it?’ Christian asks.
‘Come and see!’ Angela says holding back the curtains so everyone in the room, including us, hurries over to the window. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much snow.’
The whole square is now covered in deep, crisp, undisturbed white snow. It sits on the trees and on the benches – even the gas lamps have a layer of white on them. It looks like everywhere has been tucked up in a snug white blanket for the night. The drunken footprints that Christian and Angela left earlier on the grass have all but disappeared, and the snow is still falling heavily.
‘It doesn’t look like you’ll be going anywhere tonight, Angela,’ Estelle says, turning to her. ‘You’re very welcome to stay here if you wish. I’ll make up a bed in one of my spare rooms upstairs for you.’
‘Don’t go to any bother, Estelle, she can kip in with me. She’ll be perfectly safe.’ Christian winks at Estelle.
Estelle merely blinks back. ‘That’s as may be, Christian. But Angela is my guest too, and I will treat her like I would any other guest to my house. She will get her own bed and fresh sheets, and breakfast in the morning. Is that all right with you, Angela?’
Angela looks shocked, and then pleased. ‘Too right it is! I … I mean, thank you so much, Estelle. It’s very kind of you, and far more trouble than I’m worth.’
Estelle isn’t the only one to puzzle at Angela’s choice of words. But she simply nods. ‘Excuse me, won’t you, while I go and make up your room. Please, make yourself at home, while I’m gone.’
‘I sure did that, didn’t I, Estelle?’ our Angela says now, as sixties Estelle leaves the room and Christian and Angela begin to fade away. But unusually we don’t go immediately back to 2018 like we usually do. Instead the room begins to change a little as we stand there.
‘What’s happening?’ I ask. ‘Are we moving to a new story?’
‘No, still this one,’ Estelle says, picking up Alvie and giving him a cuddle. ‘We’re just moving on a few days.’
‘1962 into 1963 was one of the coldest winters I can remember in London,’ Angela says as the room settles down again. ‘The Big Freeze it was called. There was even ice on the inside of the windows at times – do you remember, Estelle?’
Estelle nods. ‘The country did suffer. The snow blocked roads and railways, there were power cuts and frozen pipes, things simply ground to halt because of the cold. We had food shortages too. Even the milkman couldn’t get through in places, and they always delivered back then come rain or shine. Incredibly, even the Thames froze – people were actually skating on it.’
