December Exclusive - "Ready" - Part 1

Here it is, the first part of our December exclusive! Please note, this story is still being drafted and so each part may be subject to revision. 

This story is based on a idea from special helper Waynee. You'll find the idea at the end of the story.

Christmas Eve

It’s snowing. The flakes won’t lie, but maybe it counts as a white Christmas. White-ish.

I knock on the front door, and Mum answers, shrieking with delight and giving me a tight hug and kiss on the cheek right there on the doorstep. “Silly,” she says, “you could’ve just used your key! Don’t need to knock on the door like a stranger.”

“Yeah, I suppose. It’s just…been a while.”

Four months since my last visit home. What did I say to Dawn at work about this? Weaning my mother off me. She laughed; said she was trying to do the same thing but it never works.

I know the feeling. It’ll be five minutes of niceties and then Mum will be on me for not visiting more. With Dad gone, she’s on her own. But she’s only in her fifties, she doesn’t really need me for anything. But when you’re the only child, apparently it’s hard for the mother to let go.

Mum makes tea and we sit in the living room. There’s a plate of mince pies, and I’ve politely declined them twice already.

“You don’t look very festive, Robin,” she says, looking at my hoodie and jeans.

I shrug. What does she expect? I’m twenty one years old, it’s been a long time since she can dress me up like a doll. For her part, Mum’s wearing one of those ugly Christmas jumpers – red, with a corgi on the front, reminding me of the Queen, which makes me think of the Queen’s Speech and all those other tedious traditions Mum’s going to insist on doing, before I can escape back to London on Boxing Day.

Still, at least we won’t be on our own. Auntie Claire and her daughter Katie are staying, and while I’m not a fan of children, I have a soft spot for Katie.

“When are the others getting here?” I ask, finishing my drink. My mother might be overbearing and possessive, but I can’t deny that she makes an excellent cup of tea.

“They arrived last night.”

I frown. So they’re staying here. Which means the second bedroom is occupied and I’m going to be sleeping on the couch.

“Sure I can’t tempt you?” Mum points at the mince pies.

I shake my head, smiling. “Had a snack on the train. Better save my appetite for dinner.”

She looks wistfully at me. “You used to love mince pies.”

True. I used to love eating full-stop. Mum has delighted in the past showing my girlfriends photos of me looking particularly chubby. But I lost the weight as a teenager, and I’ve kept it off since.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Robin,” Mum says, sounding brighter. “I couldn’t possibly have gotten ready for Christmas without you.”

Truth is, it looks as though she already has. The decorated tree glitters in the corner of the room, and there’s tinsel and seasonal knick-knacks everywhere. A red-breasted bird sits on the mantelpiece; my Christmas namesake.

But I take the compliment. Perhaps she wants me to get up early to peel a mountain of carrots and potatoes. Or she’ll claim that I’m the only one who can open the Prosecco for the Christmas toast (which will happen just before the Queen’s Speech, which happens just before we sit down for dinner). The one thing she won’t want me help with, thank goodness, is the passing out of presents. That’ll be down to Katie, who must be getting a little too old herself for playing Santa’s little helper.

I tap my chin thoughtfully. “How old’s Katie now, Mum?”

Mum replies, “Eleven.” She gets up, picks up my empty mug, and smiles. “But you should go say hello. She’s upstairs in the guestroom.” She looks over at my overnight bag. “And take your things upstairs.”

I nod, getting to my feet. “All right if I put my stuff in your wardrobe?”

Mum blinks in apparent surprise. “Why would you do that? Plenty room in the guestroom.”

“Oh. I just assumed…well, isn’t Auntie Claire and Katie using that room?”

Mum shakes her head. “Oh no, your auntie is going to sleep with me, and you can share with Katie.”

“Really? That seems a bit…” I shrug. Who knows, maybe Katie will sleep on the floor and I’ll get to sleep in a bed after all. “Okay, I’ll go say hello.”

Mum gives me a satisfied look. “Good boy.” She pats my arm. “And if you need to take a nap, go ahead.”

I laugh. “I’m not tired, thanks.”

“We’ll see. I find these things creep up on me sometimes.”

I blink. “Yeah, I suppose so.” I take my bag upstairs and find my niece lying on her front with a book propped up in front of her.

“What you reading?” I ask.

Katie looks up and grins. “Robin!”

Uncle Robin, actually. But I let it slide.

“Come here,” I say, and Katie jumps to her feet and runs into my arms. It’s been a year since I last saw her. Too long; she’s still a child but on the cusp of adolescence and I feel a pang of regret. How long before her face is stuck in her mobile phone, how long before she doesn’t have time for an old fogey like me?

“I missed you,” Katie says, with a theatrical pout, before she grins.

“You got your hair cut,” I reply, noticing that her brown hair is no more than shoulder-length.

Katie touches it self-consciously. “That was ages ago. I didn’t like it so long, it was

I smirk down at her. “So you’re all grown up now.”

She sticks out her tongue, and I’m tempted to pick her up like I used to, but really, she’s probably too old for that.

I point at the book she’s left on the floor. “So what’s that about? A guide to picking up boys?”

I’m gratified that Katie blushes. “No-oh!” She squirms away from me and picks up the book, holding up the cover so I can read the title.

The Rangers of Gorlan. The cover shows a hooded figure wielding a bow and arrow. “Looks serious.”

“It’s about magic,” Katie says. “Dark magic.”

I blink. “Like dark chocolate?”

Katie rolls her eyes. I remember when she wasn’t old enough to do that. I remember when she was still in nappies, although I’m happy to say that I never had to change any of them.

“It’s all about facing your fears,” Katie says. She’s wearing a red and white striped tulle dress with a shiny heart on the front. It’s Christmassy, but I’m sure she’s saving her fanciest dress for tomorrow. I can’t help but wish I’d made a bit more of an effort with my own clothing, and I hope that I packed a button-down shirt, at least. It was all a rush, leaving my flat and getting to the train station. But isn’t everything a rush these days?

“How about you read me a bit?” I say, and I go to sit down on the bed. I pick up a sparkling, ivory-coloured dress that’s lying on the duvet. It’s much too small to be Katie’s. I hold it up, and then notice there’s a nappy, a pair of thick tights and a gold, flowered hairband to go with it. “This for your doll?”

Katie twists her lips. “I don’t play with dolls,” she says.

“Oh. Sorry.” I sit down and look at her. “So, who’s is it?”

My niece looks levelly at me. “Yours.”

I exhale. “Huh.” And I hold the outfit in my hands. A strange joke for Katie to play – kids are generally a mystery to me, and something I have no interest in solving, but I’ve always felt close to Katie. I would have visited her this year, but I’ve just been so busy. And now, is this how she shows her disapproval?

I shrug. “Well, I don’t play with dolls either.”

Katie giggles, and at least she’s sounding happier. “I told you, silly. It’s for you. It’s for wearing.” And there’s a look in her eyes, a mixture of amusement and confidence, that I’m unable to translate.

“Huh.” What am I supposed to say to that? I wish her mother were here, so I could ask, What’s up with Katie?

I’m about to ask where Auntie Claire is, when I yawn instead. And then I yawn a second time.

Katie nods. “There. You’re all ready.”

“Ready for what? What are you-“

“Lie down.”

“What?”

Katie pushes my shoulder and I find myself falling back onto the bed. “You need a nap.”

“No,” I begin, even though I am immediately, thoroughly exhausted.

My niece sits down beside me and begins stroking my hair in a way that surely isn’t appropriate but manages to quieten me at the same time. “I’ll read you a story,” she says, “Just like you wanted.”

I listen as she turns the pages of a book. I don’t know if it’s the one about magic or something else, because my eyes are shut tight, and I am asleep in moments.