Lots of black ice on wet roads causing chaos on the roads did not stop a full meeting of members each with very good stories. I could have voted for 3 as being equally as good but winning the most votes was Pat's Christmas story.
My story was about a chairman of the caravan club making a speech. Joan wrote about a lost engagement ring in a lake. Joan Read's story of ghosts past. Sally's told of a young girl having a fling with a celebrity. Ann's about a tree falling on the bungalow and a narrow escape. Brian's recounted a tale of a young man's brush with death. John told of rebellious elves and Rosemary gave an account of the birth of Jesus in a modern setting. Sue retold the story of the Jewish persecution.
Pat's story
Make you up a bed for the night….
Whilst idly looking at Facebook on Christmas Eve I read again the growing campaign to make Father Christmas more Politically Correct! Whatever next.
There was another campaign that I was keeping my eye on and that was to knock Simon Cowell off his pedestal. The public were getting restless at always having the winner of X Factor be number one at Christmas. There was a growing campaign for an older group from the U.S.A. to win…and yes...they had done it! Hooray. This wasn’t against the young lad who had won…it was new form of people power.
However, when we were all tucked up in bed I couldn’t sleep so crept softly downstairs to double-check the gifts for my husband and children.
Its odd how you can be sooo tired but can’t sleep. Just as I was about to return to bed, there was a splutter of soot and a slender figure in red appeared .Although his face was partially hidden by a flowing white beard I could see he was in pain. "My ankle, oo,ah,oo,ah" he cried. He hobbled over to the settee and with a despairing glance in my direction, he took out a red mobile phone and sent a message. " Is that you Mrs. Claus? Quick, I’ve sprained my ankle, forgot to wear the harness and hard hat we are supposed to wear. Please, please bring the reserve reindeer and deliver the rest of the gifts."
Whoosh, she was here sliding down the chimney skimming the sides,not a speck of soot. You see, they had both been told they were clinically over weight and were bad role models to the children. They had to change their image. The mince pie and brandy habit had to go too. Besides, you couldn’t be in charge of a sleigh ever so slightly tipsy these days.
What with Global Warming and all that, even Rudolph had to tone down his red nose.
It was no fun anymore. They both looked at me, then at the mince pies and brandy.
"Go, go" Santa said," I will rest here tonight, perhaps this kind lady will make me up a bed for the night." Whoosh, she was gone. Santa eyed the brandy and I eyed him and poured one for myself. Why hadn’t my husband heard the commotion? Santa looked so world weary and began to cry. "It’s not like the old days, too much Political Correctness! We have to be extra careful in our selection of toys. No small pieces, no balloons for under 5’s. No tot of brandy at each house. What’s the world coming to! In the majority of new houses we have to climb through the windows, no chimneys you see. Its all getting too much."
After his third brandy he stretched out on the settee and I covered him with our old plaid blanket.
I drifted off into an uneasy sleep in the armchair, dreaming of P C Santa’s looking like Posh and Becks. The sleigh was being pulled by muzzled reindeer, and Santa was being lowered by a hoist wearing his crash helmet. I woke with a start. Why was I on the settee? Where was Santa? The children came flying downstairs, the stockings were eagerly emptied, and they turned to the presents under the tree. I got swept up in the day.
Later that afternoon, my husband went to pour himself his favourite tipple. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he held up the bottle, there wasn’t enough for a decent drink!
End of serial
As she thought can I trust him. She heard someone screaming far far away, the scream spiralled into a cone that rushed and swirled, beating frantically like a heart beat trapped in oblivion and eventually disappearing into a black abyss. Had she died?.
She remembered terrible nightmares and hallucinations she was someone else! Sue, somebody, that was it, Arrow-Smith, but all those nightmares and crawling around in the darkness of her mind left her feeling bewildered.
“Wake up” Nancy. “Wake up”. Her eyelids fluttered. Her eyes slowly opened and focussed on people in white gowns and white masks covered their faces. Their eyes penetrating, watching her every movement. “Where am I” she whispered hoarsely?
“Its alright dear, you have been ill, are you feeling better now”? The voices floated back and forth like an echo chamber in her mind. Suddenly she remembered being strapped down on the table and feeling drowsy, something was pushed into her mouth that made her retch. She was not supposed to feel anything but the pain of the electric shock had made her pass out.
What was happening to her? they called her Nancy, she struggled against the bindings and tried to sit up. The tall man in the white gown said, “Now be a good girl, we are here to look after you and soon all those bad dreams and confusion will stop.” He turned and said brusquely “Sedate her nurse and get her back to her room. Then she was aware of a needle being jabbed into her arm.
She was wheeled on the stretcher along the white tiled corridors and eventually pushed into a cell like room. She was lifted from the stretcher and thrust onto her bed.
“Sleep well Nancy” the nurse said as she left the room. The door was shut and a key turned in the lock. A voice inside her head shouted for help.
In the darkness someone lifted her right eyelid, everything was a blur and out of focus, then the other eyelid was lifted and a light appeared. A muffled voice said “she is coming around”.
“Oh thank you, thank you Doctor, I thought we had lost her”.
“Mum, oh Mum, she sobbed.
The Doctor replied kindly “Nancy, you are an extremely lucky young lady, another half an hour and if you had not been found you would not have made it. The Police are waiting to question you when you feel better.
She panicked at the mention of the Police. What had happened? Her mother gently stroked her hair “You were with the girls on a night out and someone spiked your drink then you were found unconscious in an alley, we have been talking to you for two days and nights while you have been in a coma, so rest gently my darling you will be safe at home soon” her Mum said quietly.
