Christmas Club

A Christmas Tail

A one act play set in the bedroom and bathroom of a house in Staffordshire in the early nineties.
Cast of Characters
Just Her and Him and the Narrator who is also Props.

Narrator: It is Saturday December 3rd 1993 at around four am.
Our couple are cosy and warm in bed under a huge thick winter duvet.
The weather has turned icy cold; there was a heavy frost last night.

Props: small sound, maybe soft scraping
Narrator: There is a small unfamiliar sound from somewhere in the distance: Something has woken her, she turns to face him, keeping her nose under the covers, she thought it was him snoring so she watches him for a while. No, there is no sound, she closes her eyes, it is so warm in the bed, go back to sleep, but she is sure she heard it again

Props: Again we hear a small unfamiliar sound from somewhere distant:

Narrator: Yes, there is a sound, an unfamiliar sound, not the usual house at night sound like creaking boards, central heating pipes or the wind at the windows.
She looks at him again, definitely not the poor tired soul lying beside her. He is working so hard lately; he is so looking forward to the weekend and the lovely day planned for their little boy. Don’t wake him. It’s nothing, just the house in the night.
She snuggles in to his back and thinks about the day ahead.

Narrator in her soft sleepy voice: We are taking our little four-year-old son to see Father Christmas in the morning. We are going to a heritage railway station about an hours drive away to see Father Christmas arriving on a steam train. The forecast of heavy frost will add beautifully to the drama of the morning.

Narrator: She remembers steam trains of course, that is what trains were when she was a girl. The boy has no idea what she has been talking about this past week. He will just enjoy his daddy being home.

Narrator in her soft sleepy voice: After the train pulls into the station we will all climb on board and begin our journey that will take us a few miles along the track. There will be warm mince pies and sherry for us and then Father Christmas will call by our carriage. He will stay a while and ask our little chap what he is hoping for this Christmas, he will leave a special gift for the boy before he goes on his way to say hello to the other children on the train. It is going to be a perfect start to Christmas.

She whispers to herself “What is that noise?”

Narrator: She pushes the duvet from her face.

She listens hard but can’t make it out.
She sits up in bed and really concentrates her mind.

She: whispers to herself : Is there someone in the house?

Narrator: She is sure there is no one there but she just can’t work it out. She will have to get out of bed.

Reaching for her dressing gown and slippers she softly leaves the bedroom to walk into the quiet, dark and chilly house; the heating hasn’t switched on yet, she shivers and pulls the dressing gown tight around her.

Narrator: She doesn’t want to wake her son, as good as he is in the mornings, four am is a little early for the start of his funny but non-stop chatter. As she passes the bathroom the noise seems to be coming from there, she can hear her heart beating as she pushes the door open but the room is empty and the noise has stopped.
She leaves and walks into the other rooms in the house, nothing, no sound, no person.
She goes back to her bed.

He disturbs now as a slightly cooler body slips in beside him.

Him: “What’s the matter? Can’t Sleep?”
Her: “I thought I heard a noise and I got up to investigate, but I think it’s gone now.”
Her: “Yes I checked him” he didn’t need to ask the question. “He is sound asleep.
Cuddle me? I am cold now”.

Narrator:
She tries to settle back into her safe and warm place.

Narrator in her soft sleepy voice: Where was I? Oh yes, on the train we  have just seen Father Christmas, the mince pie is warm and spicy and so delicious.

Narrator: There it is again, the noise is back.

Props: very quietly in the distance  Splish splish splash splish

Her: shaking him: “Wake up I hear the noise again, I am sure it is coming from the bathroom but I have been in there and there is nothing!”
“Please, come with me this time.”

Narrator: They get to the bathroom, together this time and yes there is a noise, a kind of splish splash noise.
Her: “It is water, something to do with water, but where? There is nothing here.”
Splish splash splish splash,
Her: “Oh my life, it is coming from the toilet bowl”.

Narrator: She feels giddy and sick with fear and returns quickly to the safety of the bed.

Narrator: She is listening, thinking. What is he doing? Nothing is happening, he is quiet, too quiet, she has to go and look. From the safety of the bedroom she sees him. He is standing, very still, naked, in front of the toilet; chin in hand, just staring, staring down at the toilet.
She is terrified now.
She watches as he very carefully lifts the lid of the toilet and in an instant it is back down again.
He returns to her in the bedroom, finds his dressing gown, sits on the edge of the bed.
Him: “There is a rat swimming around in our toilet bowl! Fetch me something to put down the toilet to block it.”

Epilogue

Yes we did still go to see Father Christmas, He arrived on his train at the Foxfield Railway musuem at Stoke on Trent and it was every bit as wonderful as I had hoped. In the afternoon we all went to a little friends birthday party where we took it in turns to tell our friends, ever so quietly, so as not to upset the children, what we had been up to in the early hours.
And yes it is possible and it did happen. The very cold weather had brought the rat along the drains and up in to the house via the u bend in the toilet, hoping to find some warmth. The rodent inspector called regularly over the following weeks to lay poison and eventually we felt happy that it (and any family) had vacated our loo and our drains. Christmas 1993

Miriam
I have just read The Ramblings of a Little Old Lady and was reminded of this post that I published in November 2010.

Thank you Sian for this lovely series of Christmas Stories.

Sian’s Christmas Club

Sian from High in the Sky has invited us to share a Christmas story in the few weeks before Christmas, here is mine for this week.

Every year this little Christmas Nativity Scene brings treasured memories for me and laughter for my son.

The nativity scene belonged to my mother and was put out every Christmas throughout our childhood. You will see that the baby Jesus is wrapped in ‘swaddling clothes’ It is a piece of cloth my mother wrapped him in many years ago.
My younger brother insisted that the baby lay in his manger every day during advent whereas my very traditional Irish mother forbid it! The child wasn’t born until Christmas morning and so the manger was to be empty until then.
So, every day the baby was put in the manger by Gerard and every day he was taken out of the manger by mother, first he was in and then he was out, and so it continued all through advent for many years until he got so bashed that his arm fell off!!
My poor mother was heart broken and wrapped him up as you see him here.
When mum died the little crib came to me.
The story of the baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes gets more outrageous with every telling and now that my son tells our visitors the story I suspect that by the end of the evening the baby has no limbs at all!
Merry Christmas Gerard…Miriam x

I posted this story on November 28th 2010 so apologies if you have seen it before but as I put the little nativity scene on my kitchen windowsill over the weekend I thought I would share it again.

Thanks Sian

Fancy a cocktail at the Christmas club?

Missing Story Telling Sunday and it’s older sister A Christmas story, Sian suggested we might like to join her for three Sundays before Christmas to read one of her wonderful stories and maybe post one of our own.
Now mine is in no way amazing, in fact it’s not even a story, but one of Sian’s suggestions for starting the grey matter churning was
“At Christmas we…”

Well, at Christmas in our house we make this beautiful cocktail, in fact I have learnt that three other households around here also make Miriam’s Christmas in a glass.

Christmas story 2014

1 measure vodka
1 measure Disaronno
3 measures cranberry juice
2 measures orange juice
mix all together
shake over ice
and, if you like them, serve with maraschino cherries threaded on a small skewer.

Merry Christmas!

Thank you Sian

It’s Always Difficult

When I want to make a list of people’s names to say ‘Hello’ or ‘Thanks’ to, or even send a card to. It is inevitable that I miss someone’s name.
And I did, on my Thanksgiving heart. Apologies, of course you should be there and you are now.

Here it is again.

Thanksgiving Cloud 2

How’s the Christmas prep going? I seem to be taking three steps forward & two back this weekend! And I’ve just remembered it is time for Sian’s Christmas story. Two posts from me today then.

ZIZO Week 49

I have been zooming in and out on a tree this week. Zooming and being disappointed when I see on my screen what my eyes think they have seen.

I see this beautiful splash of colour over the fence every day.
ZIZO 1 week 49
But this is not what my eyes and mind see.

So I darkened the picture.

ZIZO 2 Week 49
But it’s still not right.

Then I cropped almost everything out to concentrate my mind on the colour of the tree.

ZIZO 3 Week 49

Still not right, and having cropped it so much it’s out of focus.

Then I remembered my friend Lisa Gordon talking about a picture of a lovely lilac (I think), she had seen while out walking but when she saw the picture on her screen it just didn’t look like what she had seen in the street. So she played with the picture until it looked like what her eyes and mind had seen.

I did something similar. I used an app called Glaze and this is how I see the tree every day.

ZIZO 4 Week 49

And this is it ‘waterlogued’

ZIZO 5 week 49

I love how your eyes can focus on something while blocking out all extraneous detail. Something the camera can’t do unless you use your long lens and a tripod and a set of steps which I don’t have handy this morning and I just remembered that it is Wednesday and time to link up with Helena. Pixel magic, I love it!

Thank you Helena for this wonderful meme. I can hardly believe we have been zooming around all over the world for a year. I wonder if you might do something similar next year?