Christmas

It’s Christmas.

I bake the mince pies. I chop the garlic, roll the pastry, smile, brightly. I buy the presents, write the lists, send the cards, post the parcels, buy the wrapping paper. I beat the eggs, go to the supermarket, make the jokes, tidy the house, check the lights on the tree. I write the lists, chivvy everyone along, polish the glasses, open the champagne, load the dishwasher, clean the silver. I answer the phone; I say “and the same to you!” in a bright voice.

I hide stuff – all over the house. Then I take it up to my bedroom, find the scissors and the paper and the sellotape and I sit on the floor and I stay there until it’s all wrapped and labeled. I wake up before anyone else, and I fill the stockings. Even though they’re fully grown, it all still happens – the mystery, the magic, and it’s me who makes it.

I make the coffee and pour the juice, and I smile and smile and say wait until your brother comes down, and I smile and kiss and hand out coffee and juice and say Merry Christmas and I sit, watching the lights twinkling on the tree, and I’m over-dramatically thrilled and delighted, then I smile some more until my face hurts .

There’s a moment, quite late – they’re putting their coats on and one of them is fiddling with his hair, trying to make it do something – I’m not sure what.

“What will you do?” He sounds worried, suddenly, as if it only just occurred to him, although he’s been doing this – leaving on Christmas morning - since he was ten.

“I’m fine – I have loads of things to do!”

I smile and try to make it sound fine – and it is – because I would absolutely hate them to go, thinking it wasn’t.

I remind them to be ready. I watch the clock, and when it’s time, I hassle them again because it’s such bad manners to keep people waiting.

I wait for the slam of the door, and for a moment I stand still and listen to the silence, which I love at any other time – I love being alone. Then I make myself think about how I have so much – so much more than so many people – I’m really lucky. It’s Christmas.