Page 87 of It Always Snows on Mistletoe Square
‘Is that the story you’re going to tell us tonight?’ I ask hopefully.
Estelle nods. She glances at the clock. ‘And look, it’s almost time.’
I’m about to say it can’t be, we only started dinner at seven, but as I glance at the mantelpiece clock with Estelle, I see it’s nearly eight o’clock.
‘Come,’ Estelle says, standing up and heading over to her chair by the fire. I can’t help noticing how easy she suddenly finds this when before she’s always needed Angela’s help. ‘We must prepare. We have much to get through this evening.’
‘Shall I help you with the dishes, Angela?’ I ask, knowing that Angela always likes to clear the table before we sit down for one of Estelle’s stories.
‘No, no, don’t you worry about it,’ Angela says. ‘It will all be done by the time we return.’
Now Angela was talking in an odd way. What was going on with these two tonight?
‘You’re both acting really weird tonight,’ I say as Ben and I help Angela pull the chairs around so we can sit with Estelle next to the fire. ‘And after the last few nights, that’s really saying something!’
‘Nonsense,’ Estelle says. ‘Everything is going to work out just fine. You’ll see. Now,’ she says, looking wistfully at the Christmas tree all lit up as usual in the window. ‘Tonight, we’re going back to 1984.’
‘The year we were both born!’ Ben says. ‘Cool.’
‘Indeed.’ Estelle nods. ‘And that’s exactly what we’re going to witness now. Elle’s birth.’
‘What?’ I exclaim. ‘What do you mean, my birth? How is that related to this house in any way?’
‘Patience,’ Estelle says, looking at me over the top of her glasses. ‘All will be revealed in good time, Elle.’
Before I can speak, the clock begins to strike eight, and as always the moon shines in through the window and onto one of the Christmas tree decorations. This time, its rays light up two chubby, winged cherubs holding hands. And before I can protest further, or ask more questions, the room begins to spin as we’re taken back to 1984.
Twenty-Two
MistletoeSquare,London
Christmas Eve 1984
Do They Know It’s Christmas?
As the room changes, some of the furniture disappears, but not too much this time. What we lose is quickly replaced by a sofa and two armchairs in a pretty blue floral pattern. A pale cream carpet appears under our feet, and the walls, which are now painted in pink emulsion, have a floral wallpaper border running all around them.
‘I remember this!’ Angela says, spinning round to take everything in. ‘I designed it, didn’t I, Estelle?’
Estelle nods with a grimace. ‘Yes, that was the last time I let you loose on your own. It was far too … pretty for my liking.’
‘That was the fashion then. Look, our old TV!’ Angela rushes over to a large TV with a boxy-looking video recorder underneath on a black metal stand. ‘Remember videos, Estelle? I used to go down to the local Blockbuster video store and rent us movies to watch – you loved that!’
‘I may have enjoyed the odd classic film back then. None of that modern rubbish you used to rent though. The rat pack you used to call it.’
‘No, the Brat Pack,’ Angela says, examining some of the videos stacked up neatly next to the TV. ‘I was a little bit obsessed with Rob Lowe back then, even though I was nearly fifty!’
‘The tree looks pretty,’ Ben says, and we all look towards the Christmas tree, which stands in its usual place by the window. It’s covered in strings of bright lights with colourful bulbs and equally colourful shades, lots of sparkly tinsel, and all the decorations that have been a feature so far in every era we’ve visited, along with some shiny modern red, green and gold ones.
‘Doesn’t it?’ Angela says wistfully. ‘It seems like only yesterday I was decorating it with some of these decorations.’
‘Ahem!’ I say as I watch them all examining the room. ‘Have you forgotten something? What about me? What have I to do with Christmas 1984 in this house?’
‘What did I tell you before?’ Estelle says. ‘Patience, Elle. All will become clear very soon.’
We hear the front door open and close, and footsteps in the hall.
‘Estelle, are you home?’ A familiar voice calls and another younger version of Angela puts her head around the door.
