CONTENTS
Seat Lifters…………………..3
Taking Liberties…………………8
Fish Shortage…………………..11
Greedy Girls…………………….15
Delays in Queues………………17
Cool Drinking Bars……………….20
Glasshouses…………………….23
Candle Wax at Christmas Time……25
Andy’s Queue………………………28
Tabitha’s Mistletoe Tale……………31
Lucinda’s ‘First Foot In’ Tale…………34
Christmas Pudding……………36
Seat Lifters
Once again, we all met up at the Willow Tree pub in
Norwood Green, eager to tell our ghostly, ghastly tales of the cunning little spells
we cast against the unsuspecting public. For those of you who are not already
acquainted with us, my name is Michaela, and my beautiful Goth chick friends
here are Tabitha, who is so serene, while this fiery redhead with a
temper to match is Lucinda.
No
sooner had we got Halloween out of the way than Christmas was looming, so we
all thought we’d make a special effort and recite only stories which have
a bit of a festive theme. The Willow Tree pub was done up a real treat. There
was a huge and wonderfully decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the main
bar, while the ceiling and walls were festooned with the most elaborate tinsel
and trimmings I’ve ever seen.
‘I’ll
get the pints in first, shall I?’ asked Tabitha. ‘Worthingtons
okay?’
‘Yes,
good idea,’ I said.
‘Yes,
yes, yes,’ said Lucinda impatiently.
‘Okay,
girls, I won’t be a mo! Then when I get back I shall tell you my tale
about certain people I call seat lifters.’ And with that she went
off to the bar to get our much-needed drinks.
‘Well,’
said Tabitha moments later as she placed our pints down on the table. ‘As
you both know, I regularly meet up with my brother, Andy, for a drink in that
new hip watering hole Liberties in Bradford. I usually drag myself in
there when I’ve finished the grueling task of tramping around the stores.
But on this occasion, I’d been doing some major shopping, since bloody
Christmas was only a few days away!
‘The centre of Bradford was done
up lovely; the huge tree and the lights were beautiful. I stood in Centenary
Square listening to the carol singers, who were performing Christmas hymns
beneath the festive tree. The weather was seasonally cold, with frost
everywhere, and my feet and hands were beginning to feel the big freeze! And so
- as any sane person would in such a situation - I headed for the pub.
‘Inside,
I chose one of the secluded booths. The place was looking very festive indeed.
I placed my coat down, also a carrier bag full of dog chews, and Andy’s
Christmas present. I’d bought him a silver Celtic ring; I just hope
I’d guessed the right size. Anyway, I purposely left my book and reading
glasses on the table so that it would be obvious to the general public that the
table was occupied. I then went to the bar, purchased my drink, and returned to
my reserved table.
‘And
that was when I couldn’t believe my eyes! There…an apparition of
the very foulest of families, with three squealing kids, sat in my booth. This
was the only trouble about the time of year: it tends to bring all sorts of
horrors out!
‘
”Excuse me!” I blurted in sheer disgust. “You’re sat in
my seat. I’ve just been to the bar for a drink. “ ’
‘I
could see that the couple, who were supposed to be in charge of these kids, were
old enough to know better. They were both already very drunk, and the guy
slurred, “Ya won’t mind us love, will ya? The kids are out of the
way here.”
‘
”Well, I’m sorry, but I do mind,” I said. “I’m
not being funny, but I’ve worked all week and just want a quiet drink
while I read my book. So if you could all sit over there at that free
table...”
‘
”But we’d like to sit here, it’s more private for the
kids,” he said, trying to win me over with a smile, while the kids were
jumping all over the place. “Anyway, what’s happened to your
festive spirit?”
‘
”I’m just about to drink it! That’s why I’m sat here,
away from the noise,” I said, while staring at the kids. “Now if
you don’t mind, my brother will be here shortly. There isn’t enough
room for you all, and I want some peace and quiet.”
‘And
with that they moved to the other table. I can’t believe the cheek of
some people. It’s a common occurrence, especially in Bradford. That’s
a real contrast to the people of Huddersfield, who leave an occupied seat
alone. They appreciate that a person has to leave the seat in order to get a
drink at the bar or go to the toilet.
‘Anyway,
to continue with my tale. After a while, I calmed down. I began to read my book
and quickly finished my pint. I checked the time and realised that my brother
would be here any minute. Therefore, I left my belongings where they were and
took my handbag to the bar to get our pints.
‘However, when I returned to my
seat, I was assaulted by the sight of a young couple who had now
seat-lifted my chair!
‘Oh
my Goddess, I thought - not again, and all in one day!
‘Not
content only with stealing my seat, they’d also moved my beer glass out
of the way and shoved my book and glasses to the other side of the table.
‘
”Can’t you see there’s someone sitting there?” I
shouted at them angrily.
‘
”No. Can’t see anyone,” they answered facetiously.
‘
”Well, no, you wouldn’t, since I had to leave my seat in order to
get another drink from the bar. Can’t you see my beer and my book and my
shopping there? And where’s my coat?” I growled through clenched
teeth.
‘
”Oh, I didn’t see it,” said the blond bint. “It must
have fallen on the floor,” she added, forcing a smile on her face.
‘Yeah,
sure it did. More likely you threw it there. Now bugger off before you
join it,” I shouted.
‘I’ve
never seen anyone move so fast in my life! I put the fear of the Goddess in
them, I can tell you. They quickly moved off to a table at the side of me, and
for the next hour or so, I gave them the evil eye, while talking and exchanging
Christmas presents with my brother.
‘They
kept squirming under my gaze as I watched people stealing their seats while
they went to the bar for drinks or when they went to the toilet. And yes,
before you ask, I did possess those other people to do that, in order to
teach the couple some manners. It was so funny; I kept laughing as each
time one of them moved, someone would quickly move in to steal their seat. It
was like musical chairs - very festive, I must say! Eventually the blond bint was
left in tears!’
‘Oh,
well done, Tabitha, you so need to show your anger now and again. It
does the soul good,’ said Lucinda.
‘I
absolutely agree,’ I said.
Taking Liberties
‘Right, my girlie whirlies, how about some nice
pints of Guinness?’ asked Lucinda.
‘Oh,
I don’t know. I hope the full moon will be bright enough tonight to help
guide us drunken wenches home. Guinness usually pushes me over the edge of
reason,’ I said, as I tried to focus my eyes on the empty pint glass in
front of me. And I’d only had the one pint! I was losing
hand-to-mouth coordination already. Goddess help me tonight!
I thought.
‘I
just love the way you do that, Michaela - you know, the way you narrow your
eyes,’ said Tabitha. ‘It makes the green hue of your irises more
intense…slyer.’
‘Why,
thank you, Tabitha.’
‘Okay,
ladies, less of the compliments. You’re both eating into my storytelling
time,’ said Lucinda. ‘Now where was I, eh? I was losing my
concentration there for a mo’. Maybe a large swig of Guinness will to the
trick.’
Lucinda
downed about half of her drink, seemed to go into a bit of a coma, and then
sprang back to life.
‘Oh
yes, that’s it. My tale is about couples who can’t leave each other
alone. You know, snogging noisily to such a degree that they seem to be
devouring each other’s faces! For goddess sake, I always think - get
a bloody room!
‘Such
an incident happened, Tabitha, in that same trendy bar you’ve just
mentioned, Liberties, last New Year’s Eve. It really is a nice
bar, isn’t it? It plays jazz and sometimes blues, but on this occasion,
there were Christmas jingles. The only thing I dislike about the place is that
it tends to attract the wrong sort of people, like underage drinkers who buy
only the one drink - usually a bottle between four of them! And they all seem
to do their dating there.
‘On
this particular day, I caught two couples exiting the ladies’ toilets.
Obviously, they’d been up to you-know-what! Anyway, I made off for the
bar, bought a pint, and found a quiet, cosy corner. Quiet enough to write a few
more lines of my book.
‘I
took a couple of sips from my pint…and then I could hear this slurping
sound. It happened each time I took a sip of my drink. I thought someone had
cast a cheeky spell upon me, but I soon realised it was coming from the booth
to one side of me. It was a young couple eating each other’s faces.
It was most off-putting and actually rather disgusting.
‘Then
if that wasn’t enough, another young courting couple, with a packet of
crisps to share, was at it too! Their laughter between snogs pierced my
eardrums; I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t write a bloody thing!
This was winding me up, and then I began to wind myself up. My nerves
and temper were now absolutely shredded, snapped beyond repair!
‘I
got up out of my seat and stomped over to them. Grinding my teeth, I was
totally wound up. I spat at them, “Get an effing room, and while
you’re at it, buy yourselves some effing drinks like everyone else does,
and then perhaps you would have something to do with your effing randy hands
and mouths.
‘They
blinked in astonishment, the colour draining from their faces, as cheers went
up all around me. The people in the pub started chanting, “Get a room, or
buy a drink!”
‘I
couldn’t believe it. Several couples left the bar in droves, making room
for the paying drinkers to sit down in their pub in peace. And do you know
what, girls? I didn’t even cast one single spell!
‘So much for young love,
eh?’
Fish Shortage
‘Right, my lovelies, I’ll go to the bar
first to replenish our glasses before I begin my tale of fish… Er,
tail of fish! Do you get it?’
‘Oh
God, Michaela, you get worse,’ said Tabitha.
‘Just
get the drinks in, girl. I’m dying of thirst here,’ said Lucinda.
‘Okay,
I’m going, I’m going.’
I
quickly made my way to the bar before Lucinda really lost it. The landlady was
there.
‘Trish, three more pints and
three packets of cheese-and-onion crisps while you’re at it, please.’
‘Yeah,
sure,’ Trish said. ‘So how ya keeping then, chuck? Not seen you all
since the last full moon - are you all ready for Christmas?’
‘We’re
fine, thanks, and yes we are almost done with the shopping.’ Then I
asked, ‘Had any more funny business with your jukebox since the last time
we were in?’
‘It’s
funny you should say that, because one particular night the jukebox kept
playing When a Child is Born. I kept turning it off and selecting other
songs. Then every so often, between different tracks, it kept repeating that
bloody tune, which as you know is a Christmas song,’ Trish said.
‘Well,
I did warn you that it was possessed, didn’t I?’
‘Aye,
you did, lass. But I’ve been told this pub has a Christmas ghost. Helps
himself to free pints of beer apparently! I never seem to get enough out my
barrels, anyhow…” Trish put the drinks and the crisps on the bar.
‘Anyway, here you go, Michaela, enjoy your drinks.’
‘Thanks.’
And I stole back to our table.
‘Here we go, girls. Get these
down your necks before you nag me to death. So, are you both sitting
comfortably? Okay, now I’ll start my story.
‘It began while I was on holiday
in Whitby one Christmas time, staying with Tia. You know, Tia has changed a lot;
she’s become rather strange – well, stranger then she usually is. I
must ask Shed what’s been going on.’
‘You
are digressing, my poppet,’ Lucinda said.
‘She
must be still grieving Nick’s death,’ volunteered Tabitha.
‘Yes,
you’re probably right, Tabby dear. Anyway, back to my story. I went for a
quiet pint in a pub, one I usually don’t go into called The Tap and
Stile. The place was quite busy serving meals. The poor waiter, who was
also the chef, was running all over the place delivering the food, mainly
home-cooked fish-and-chips, to the tables.
‘Anyway,
I was reading when this guy’s voice caught my attention, so I looked up
from my book to observe or to be nosey with regard to whatever the altercation
was.
‘I
heard the waiter-come-chef explaining very kindly to the guy that he’d
been busier then usual and had run out of fish, so would he like to choose
something else off the menu - like turkey and stuffing? But the guy raised his voice
and demanded fish-and-chips! He wasn’t interested in the fact that the
place had run out of fish. He told the guy to buy some more fish, and so the
chef had to go for some more.
‘I couldn’t believe the customer’s
rudeness! The chef had been so pleasant…but he was no longer smiling as
he passed me on his way to the kitchen.
‘I’m
not usually that nosey, but I had to see this situation to the end. So I
purchased another pint and made myself rather cosy with my book. I thought I
would have a bit of a wait, if the chef was going to buy some fresh fish.
‘But I was wrong. Within about
fifteen minutes the chef was back from the kitchen with the largest fish I’ve
ever seen. The guy didn’t have the manners to say thank you, the stuck up
little toff!
‘On
his way back to the kitchen, the chef gave me a knowing wink and told me to
keep my eye on the fish. So I winked back at him and excitedly looked at the
guy’s big fish.
‘He’d
begun eating it…and eating it…and eating it. The fish wasn’t
getting any smaller. But still he continued to eat the fish while I stared at
it. He was still troughing away at it an hour later, while his stomach
had become so huge, it was the size of a whale! His face and eyes had altered
and resembled a blowfish. But he couldn’t stop eating; it was like he was
possessed…
‘After
a while, the blowfish guy got up from his seat and slipped out of the pub, with
me trailing behind, anxious to see the grand finale! What was awaiting him?
‘I couldn’t believe my
eyes when he walked over to the water’s edge and wriggled out of all his
clothes to expose his distorted and disfigured body. He’d grown huge
scales all over his body, and from his ribs sprouted slimy bloody-red gills.
Then he slipped and flipped into the water and vanished!’
Greedy Girls
‘How’s that for a fishy tale then, girls?
He almost resembled one of those comical Christmas puds,’ I said.
‘Very
peculiar, if you ask me. Didn’t you cast the spell?’ asked
Tabitha.
‘No,
it was the chef that did it,’ I said. Then we all laughed.
‘Well,
I can see that we are okay for drinks for the moment. I’ll get us some
more after I’ve finished telling my tale,’ said Tabitha.
We
nodded, eager to hear what she had to relate.
‘Here
goes. It was another one of those boozy Christmas get-togethers with a couple
of my ex-student friends. These festive boozy sessions usually start from, let’s
say, 12.30, and finish around 9.30 at night! Because it’s such a long
session, I always buy dinner for myself, so I don’t get sick. You know
what I’m like, I get extremely hungry, and so I have to be fed at least
every four hours.
‘At
twelve, I ordered lunch: veggie nut roast with all the Xmas trimmings - roasted
potatoes, stuffing and Brussels sprouts. Yum! My friends decided they weren’t
hungry enough to eat just yet, or so they told me.
‘My
food arrived. I stared at it in wonder. It was absolutely huge and I was so
looking forward to getting stuck into it. But it wasn’t long before I
felt eyes staring at the top of my head. I looked up to meet the pairs of eyes
staring at me. It was my three friends. Oh bloody hell, they want my food again,
I thought. They are forever doing this to me. So I asked them if they wanted a
roast potato, because I was feeling rather guilty about eating when they
weren’t.
‘I
couldn’t believe it! In a few minutes, my plate was stripped bare,
absolutely naked, as if a swarm of locusts had been at it. As you all can
imagine, I was pretty well annoyed, since this was a regular occurrence. It
wasn’t enough that I’d bought them drinks without an offer back;
they didn’t seem to be satisfied until they’d eaten my food as
well. So, I decided there and then to teach these tight arses a very valuable
lesson.
‘I
ordered a dessert of Christmas pudding with brandy sauce, since I was still
hungry after they’d nicked my lunch. When it arrived, I blessed the food
with a spell. I took a few mouthfuls while they all rudely stared at me
and then I offered the dish for them to finish off.
‘The
feeding frenzy began and they’d soon cleared the dish. Then they began to
moan that they were so hungry; they ended up hurrying to the food counter to
order vast amounts of food. After they’d finished their food, they still
complained of hunger, so they went to order more food. They did this four times
in total, and then they looked fit to burst and all their money had run out.
‘I
said my goodbyes to them and congratulated myself in teaching them a valuable
lesson about excessive greediness, and also a lesson about being too tight. Bah,
humbug!’ I finished.
Delays in Queues
‘Very good, Tabitha, you are getting so good at
this spell casting,’ said Lucinda. ’I’d better get us some
peanuts with our next round! Anyway, it will put us on until home time, and
then we can get a curry or Chinese. I won’t be a moment.’
‘What
do you fancy having Michaela, a Chinese or a curry?’
‘I
think a curry, Tabitha. Yes definitely a curry,’ I said.
‘Here
we go, my lovelies. Get stuck into this lot,’ Lucinda said, placing the
drinks before us. ’Now then, behold my story about old ladies. Don’t
you find some old ladies very frustrating? Yes I know we should be politically
correct in this day and age and that we shouldn’t be ageist, but my
goddess it can’t be helped sometimes.’
‘Lucinda
dear, we’re going to be old ladies some day ourselves,’ I said.
‘Oh
please! If ever I become a doddering pain in the backside, would you kindly put
me out of my misery?’ Lucinda begged.
‘Of
course we will, with pleasure,’ Tabitha and I chorused.
‘Mmmm…’
added Lucinda, then continued. ‘It’s just something that happens
quite often, especially if I’m in a hurry to purchase something, which
happens to be quite frequent lately.
‘Anyway,
I was in this queue, behind this sweet old lady who used to work in one of our
local shops. I was waiting to pay for a bag of satsuma’s and shelled
nuts, which I’d almost forgotten about, as you do, and which I had nipped
out of work to buy. I only had seconds to spare, not minutes, as I was very
busy at work due to the Christmas rush!
‘The service in the supermarket
is always so slow too, which certainly doesn’t help matters. Just
my bloody luck, I thought, I’m going to be too long for work if
the little old lady doesn’t hurry up and get her goods out of the basket.
But no, she was taking her time.
‘I
shifted about from one leg to the other. I crossed and uncrossed my arms. I
pursed my lips in annoyance. Then I started to sigh very loudly and roll my
eyes in wonder. I even shook the bells on the end of my Santa hat to attract
attention. So, having become bored with my circus tricks, I glanced at the back
of the old lady’s head and I realised that she was still fumbling
about, trying to get money out of her purse.
‘
”Oh for Santa’s sake,” I said aloud. Then the old lady paid
for her goods. Thank Goddess for that, I thought. However, she suddenly decided
she wanted some chocolate, yet she couldn’t decide which bar she preferred.
By now, there was steam coming out of my ears in sheer frustration, and the
incessant repetition of those bloody Christmas songs was doing my trolley in! I
could swear that the sweet little old lady was possessed by some demon of
womankind!
Indeed, she then cast me an evil
glance over one shoulder, her mouth twitching into a cunning smile. The sweet
little old lady was actually doing this on purpose. Well, that did it! I
burst forward and emptied her bags of shopping onto the floor: bottles smashed,
and everyone who was waiting in the queue was splattered with red gore that was
tomato ketchup and pasta sauce, all mixed with a jar of mincemeat.
‘
”There,” I said. “I feel so much better.” I placed my
Satsuma’s and nuts on the counter and walked out of the supermarket,
leaving the little old lady speechless.’
‘You
can be so nasty sometimes, Lucinda,’ I said. ’That was an awful thing to do to a poor little old
lady,’ said Tabitha. ’You should be ashamed of yourself.’
Cool Drinking Bars
‘Well, I’m not. I would do it all over
again,’ said Lucinda. ‘Okay, come on now, Michaela: out with your
pithy little story.’
‘Okay,
Lucinda, calm down. Here‘s some money - be a love and get the drinks in
before I tell a story that was told to me by Ebony,’ I said. ’She
told me that she’d made a new friend whom she liked very much, but
she’d discovered after a while that this friend, whose name is Belinda, revealed
herself to be quite a selfish and conniving person.’
I hesitated as Lucinda brought the
bevvies.
‘Thanks,
treasure,’ I said to her, trying to be extra-nice to her in the hope that
she would soon calm down. Then I continued.
‘Ebony
decided to go along with Belinda to do a bit of Christmas shopping. Neither of
them had much money, so they were looking for some bargains. Belinda dragged
her all over until Ebony’s feet began to hurt and she became increasingly
hungry. Ebony asked if they were going to find a nice little pub that did cheap
meals.
‘So
for another hour, Ebony was dragged around the streets of Bradford - in and out
of shops until she’d had enough. Again she asked Belinda if they were
going to have a sit down and something to eat. Belinda said, yes, they were,
and that she knew of a really decent trendy place that did very nice and
unusual food. So off they went looking for this café, and at last,
Belinda pointed it out. Oh no, thought Ebony, this cafe is going to
be so expensive and I probably won’t have enough cash.
‘Anyway,
they entered the café, took a table and began to look at the menu, which
was, as Ebony feared, very expensive. So Ebony chose the cheapest veggie
sandwich on the menu and a bottle of water; after all, there wasn‘t even
a festive morsel on offer.
‘When their food arrived,
Belinda thought it was delightful, quite the opposite of Ebony’s opinion.
The portions were minute; her sandwich contained a sliver of cheese. She
didn’t say anything, just ate it, and vowed never to go shopping with
Belinda again.
‘Belinda
told Ebony that they were going to meet her other friend at this particular
shop where she’d seen a top she liked but couldn’t afford. So off
they went, walking around the shops for another hour, until finally they
arrived at the shop where her friend was waiting. Belinda took Ebony and her
friend to see the top in question, which she ended up trying on, and hanging
back up on the rack, saying that she wished she could buy it, but
couldn’t afford it. Belinda had started to hint to Ebony and the
friend…but both of them just looked at each other in a knowing
way. Belinda eventually bought the top with her credit card, then they all made
their way to a bar for a beer, which Belinda had recommended as being another
cool place - which in our speak means expensive rip off!
‘Belinda
ordered her drink of lager, but Ebony and the friend noticed that there
wasn’t a single hand-pulled beer in sight, so they both sat down with
Belinda without a drink. Then Belinda started talking incessantly about
herself, whinging on about friends and family who were selfish. Ebony thought this
was a load of old tosh! Indeed, by now Ebony had lost her patience with
Belinda’s selfishness, and she stormed off to the toilets; Belinda
followed her there.
‘Belinda
told Ebony that her friend was ‘dead tight’, and wouldn’t
give her some smoke. So Ebony reminded Belinda that she was given free smoke
all the time from her friend, and that she should be grateful, since she never,
ever gave her friends anything. However, Belinda totally ignored what Ebony had
said, and continued to interrupt her. She demanded to know what Ebony thought
of her new top. Ebony totally flipped her lid and grabbed the offending top
from Belinda, lit her lighter and set fire to it, before chucking it in the
sink and storming upstairs and back into the bar, where Belinda’s friend
asked what she was doing.
‘Ebony told her that Belinda was
having a bit of a smoke in the toilets!’
Glasshouses
‘That was a very interesting story, Michaela. But
I have a pretty wicked tale to tell you both. Lucinda, I think you will be very
proud of me,’ said Tabitha. ‘But first I will get us all another
round of drinks. I won’t be a moment.’
Tabitha
was back with the pints as sleekly and as quickly as a cat.
‘Okay then, my girl, off you go
with your tale,’ I said.
‘Right
then, I assume that you have all heard of the old saying that people who throw
stones should not live in glass houses? Well in this case, it is about a young
man who threw stones at me.
‘I
was taking a walk along the beach in Whitby. It was a lovely calm, quiet
evening in October - sorry girls, this is not a festive story, but I think you
will like it all the same. Anyway, I’d gone there for the Goth weekend
and I was staying with Tia in her lovely cosy cottage. The weather seemed
abnormally warm for the end of October, or to be more precise, the 31st
of October - Halloween night! The quiet, stillness of the night, and my
peaceful solitary stroll, was somewhat disturbed by the noise of someone
opening a window high above me. Out of this window, I noticed a young man
peering out at me…and then he started to be abusive. I thought to myself,
What a tosser! So I chose to ignore him. But that wasn’t good
enough for him, since he started to throw pebbles, one striking me on the back
of my head. As you all know, I hate anything or anyone hitting my head. So I
totally lost it! I conjured an unforgiving wind from the very bowels of my
hatred and spat back at him, ”What comes around, goes around!”
‘The
wind howled as the tosser was tossed out of the open window, still clutching
the pebbles in his hand. And there was an almighty crescendo of smashing glass
as he fell onto the glass table below.’
‘That
was a very nasty, naughty short story, Tabitha,’ I concluded.
‘Good,’
said Lucinda. ‘That leaves me more time to tell you about the time I
lived in Huddersfield in this very haunted house.
Candle Wax at Christmas Time
‘I thought to myself, not long after I’d
moved into my rented house, that something very strange…something very
supernatural was going on. For, each morning when I got up and walked through
the lounge in order to reach the kitchen to make myself my usual strong sugary
coffee, there was always a smell of burning candles: that sort of aroma they
leave behind after they’ve been snuffed out.
‘So
I went looking around my lounge, looking at my new candles, which I
hadn’t lit yet, since they were ready to be used at Christmas time. My
tree looked beautiful, with fairy lights twinkling away, reflecting on the red
and silver baubles. My heart nearly stopped beating when I noticed that one of
my huge church candles had been surely lit, and that the wax from the candle
had melted down the stem and onto the carpet, right at the corner of the
radiator. I was scared, since I hadn’t lit it; someone or something had
lit the candle!
‘Henceforward
each morning when I got up, there was the same aroma of a snuffed out candle,
and sure enough, the candle had burnt down a little more and had spilled over
and landed on the carpet in the same spot. So each morning I went through the
same ritual of smelling, seeing and scraping up the candle wax from the carpet.
Then on the sixth morning, the smell began to resemble the smell of animal
fat - you know, a porky smell…like pork scratchings!
‘I
became so unnerved. I knew that the place was haunted, but by whom…and
why? The smell was beginning to get stronger and more putrid. I opened my
windows and my door to let in some fresh air in order to rid the place of this
rancid smell. Then, while I was emptying my bin, my next-door neighbour
enquired if I was settling in okay. I didn’t dare tell her that I had a
ghost that liked to light my candle.
‘Anyway,
she said that it was nice to have a decent neighbour. I asked her what she
meant by this, and she explained that the previous occupant, the husband to be
more precise, had tied his wife to the radiator in the lounge and had set her
on fire, all this after he’d found out that she’d been having an
affair with a butcher in the town.
‘ “It was awful, but the
funny thing is,” she said, “there was hardly any damage to the
house. But she was burnt to a crisp; there was a strong smell of pork
cooking. But as I said later, humans do smell very much like pig when
they’re burning or cooking!”
‘I
was absolutely horrified, since it wasn’t candle wax that I’d been
cleaning up each morning: it was fat from the melted skin of that poor tortured
woman,’ finished Lucinda, whose eyes were almost popping out of her head.
‘Anyone
fancy a packet of pork scratchings?’ I asked at length. And I
couldn’t understand their silence. Oh well, maybe it was a bit of a sick
joke; you can’t please everyone all of the time, I suppose.
‘Okay,
I suppose it is my turn to tell my Christmas story,’ I said. ‘I’ll
buy us all a Drambuie with ice to put us in the Christmas spirit. I
shan’t be long.’
‘We’ll keep your seat
warm, Michaela dear,’ said Lucinda.
Andy’s Queue
‘Hey, Tabitha,’ I said. ’Do you
remember that time your brother Andy complained to us about the many times
he’s been waiting for his bus home and the person at the front of the
queue hasn’t even got its bus fare ready to pay, so that other people in
the queue are made to wait even longer?’
‘Yes I remember him complaining loads
of times,’ answered Tabitha.
‘Anyway,
this particular story is about the time he and his wife Val was waiting in a
long bus queue after late-night shopping on Christmas Eve. They’d called
into the Goose pub for a festive drink, as you do, before catching their
bus home. Christmas carols were blaring out of the speakers, just like they
were all over the city centre. The streets and shops were trimmed with
Christmas decorations and fairy lights, which put Val and Andy in a very good
mood, full of Christmas spirit and all that.
‘Well,
they had one or two drinks! Anyway, they made their way to the bus stop through
streets of cold and crispy snow, which had crystalized with ice. They stuffed
their hands into their gloves and wrapped their scarves tighter around their
necks to keep out the cold and the falling snow. The bus stop is opposite
Dillon’s bookshop, which sadly closed down years ago, just like other
bookshops; these depend upon a reading public, which appears to be a dying art.
But I digress somewhat. Yes, I know I always do - but isn’t that a sign
that I’m becoming old and, as I may add, wiser?
‘So
they waited and waited in the bus queue. The night was becoming colder by the
minute. The snow was falling much more heavily now. The paths and roads were
absolutely covered in this lovely winter wonderland effect, covering the dirt
and scum of this poor city. Alas, over thirty minutes had passed and still there
wasn’t a sign of the bus.
‘
“Christ,” Andy said through frosty breaths. “It’s
bloody cold!”
‘“I
know,” agreed Val. “It’s enough to freeze the balls off a
brass monkey! I’ve already lost mine!”
‘
“I’m okay. I’ve got me thermals on,” replied Andy.
‘The
queue of people grew longer and longer, all awaiting the same bus, which was
now nearly an hour late.
‘
”Bloody buses!” could be heard echoing along the street by the
thermally-challenged people of Bradford.
‘Then…cheers
went up as the bus rounded the corner!
‘
”Thank eff for that!” growled Andy through his frozen teeth.
‘
”Ahem,” was all Val could manage.
‘Then
the congregation of people started to muddle and fumble about with their
shopping and bus fares – well, nearly everyone. Suddenly, tragedy struck;
the first person in the queue didn’t have his cash ready.
‘
”For bleep bleeps sake,” balled Andy, “He’s had a bleep
bleep hour to get his bleeping bus fare ready.”
‘Sorry
girls, I know I usually swear, but he did rant on a bit and if I were to repeat
all the language - including the c word – well, I’m afraid that
Trish would bar me from her pub,’ I said. ‘Anyway, on and on it
went, while poor Andy’s balls had turned to ice and were throwing
themselves at this dozy idiot at the front of the queue. Well, in a
metaphorical sense, that is.
‘The
queue got smaller, since people were now at last able to embark on their bus. Then
Andy totally lost it as they neared the entrance of the bus. The guy in front
of him began fumbling in his pocket for change, thus delaying them all once
again. Andy lunged forward and grabbed the guy by his waist, turned him upside
down, and shook and shook him until all his change came tumbling out of his
pockets.
‘Andy swears to this day that
the guy is still looking for his missing change.’
Tabitha’s Mistletoe Tale
‘That was a very festive story, Michaela. I
think I may tell a more traditional festive tale influenced by the ancient druid
order which believed that mistletoe had powerful magical properties,’
said Tabitha. ‘Now, my dear Goth slappers, I know for a fact that
you’re acquainted with the snogging power you wield over your male
victims. You’ve both dragged many an unsuspecting male under the
mistletoe.
‘Anyway,
this is a very ancient tale which has been passed down from female generation
to female generation, and then finally to me. It began thus: there was a young
maiden living in the ancient village of Fulneck in Pudsey. She was very
beautiful, but very poor; her parents were desperate to marry her off. But
alas, she came without a dowry, so she wouldn’t be able to marry above
her class. The only dowry they could offer to the prospective young man was a
roof over his head - namely their own home, and a couple of livestock for him
to tend.
‘The
idea of living with her parents forever more didn’t appeal to poor Helen,
since she wanted to live a better life than what she’d experienced; and
frankly, who wouldn’t? She didn’t want great wealth, but just
enough to live on without starving to death, which wasn’t a great deal to
ask for.
‘So
one day, her mother passed on the knowledge of the magical properties of the
mistletoe, and said that before the mistletoe could be clipped from its
branches, she first had to ask permission and say thank you before blessing the
sprig and the branch and then kissing both, while making a wish. Then the
second part would be completed, when she would make her wish under the
mistletoe, enticing her chosen beau - thus, sealing their bond with a kiss.
‘She
thought to herself that this was no problem. The difficulty which actually
faced her was the fact that she didn’t own a single decent thing to wear.
Her mother told her that she was prepared for that problem, since she’d
worked so hard at Fulneck Hall for the last three years. The lady of the house had
offered her, by way of gratitude, one of her discarded ball gowns. The gown was
made from emerald-green velvet, which matched Helen’s beautiful eyes,
while the black lace trim, complemented her long ebony-coloured hair.
‘Helen
thought to herself that it was a good job she’d been teaching herself
elocution lessons so that no one would recognize her, since it was to be a
masked Christmas ball. She’d already set her sights on Mark, who was the
son of the lady of Fulneck Hall.
‘So
the next day she went in search of the mistletoe, which she knew would be
growing near the Holly bush. She spoke to the mistletoe as she gently broke off
a small sprig and left her kiss behind. She took it home, and with her
mother’s help, cast the magical spell, murmuring the cantrip under their
breaths.
‘The
next day was the day of the ball, and Helen couldn’t disguise her
excitement as she prepared herself for the wonderful evening that was ahead of
her.
‘The
festivities were well under way by the time she arrived, amongst some other
late arrivals. Then she spotted Mark close to where a huge spread of yummy food
and drink was laid out. She snuck up behind him, tapped him on his shoulder,
placed the mistletoe above his head, and when he spun round, she planted a kiss
full on his mouth. Instantly, he fell in love; spell or no spell, he would have
eventually fallen in love with her.
‘It
wasn’t long after, at the start of the New Year, that they were married,
and everyone lived happily ever after.’
‘Oh,
Tabitha,’ Lucinda said, cringing, ‘that is such a twee and pathetically
lovey-dovey, sick-enducing pile of cra - ’
‘Oh,
shut up, you sex-starved pussy,’ I said. ’In fact that was a
beautiful tale. It makes me feel all squiffy inside.’
‘Oh
please,’ Lucinda added. ’Okay, I’ll tell you a story
that will make your toes curl in dread! It’s a traditional tale about the
old saying ’first foot in’, which many people do on old year’s
night, or New Year’s eve, whatever bloody term both of you prefer!’
Lucinda’s ‘First Foot In’
Tale
‘There must be a dark-haired person who
should be the first person over the threshold after midnight. It’s
supposed to bring good luck to the household for the New Year, but of course,
you both already know that.
‘The tales this evening have
been becoming too sentimental for my liking,’ Lucinda said, with a
grimace. ‘This story, too, was handed down from my grandparents, who were
told it by their grandparents, et cetera. God, I’m sounding so boring.
I’d better get stuck into the story before I fall asleep.’
‘Not
before you’ve got the drinks in first! And, Tabitha, you missed
getting in the drinks in last time. So off you girls go - I’m rather
thirsty,’ I said.
Minutes
later, they were back.
‘There
you go, two pints each. I’ll just go to the loo,’ said Lucinda. She
was gone another minute before she returned.
‘That’s
better, now for my story. It’s about a young married couple in the 1800s
that were spending their first Christmas together in their new home. They’d
been to a party to see in the New Year and were returning home in their coach. The
lady of the house, who was ginger haired, became rather alarmed and she explained
to her fair-haired husband that they needed someone dark-haired to enter their
threshold first, or they would be blessed with ill-luck for the whole year. So
the husband calmed his wife down and said that he would go and look for someone
in the street, and that she should stay on the steps and that he wouldn’t
be long.
‘But
her husband was gone ages, and she began to worry. She decided to go look for
him, but no sooner had she reached the bottom of the steps than her husband appeared
with a dark-haired lady who was muffled up against the freezing night.
‘
”There, my dear, I told you I would find someone, and this kind lady has
agreed to go in the house first to ward off ill-will and to bring us luck
instead.”
‘But
just as they all entered the hallway, the lady swirled around, brandishing a
sword and throwing off the shawl from around her head to expose long blond
hair. And that was the last thing the young couple saw as the blade sliced
off their heads.
‘So
the moral of the story was that they should have checked to see if she was
dark-haired and that one should never invite strangers into your home,’
concluded Lucinda.
‘Oh,
yes, a very nasty Christmas tale,’ I said. ’All told in your usual
bad taste. Well, my story is a sweet one. So, tough Lucinda, you can stay there
while I get the drinks in and then listen to my story until you feel fit to
puke!’
Christmas Pudding
‘This story is about two best friends who, when
they were younger, carried on the tradition of stirring their Christmas pudding
mixture while making a wish. Their names were Tracy and Katie, and they were at
their friend’s house, stirring Liz’s Christmas pudding mixture. They
stirred in turn, and unbeknown to each other, had made the same wish.
‘They
were still big kids at heart, and each year they purchased advent calendars
that contained lovely chocolate behind the closed festive doors. Each morning
they opened a door and ate the chocolate until finally they’d reached Christmas
Eve. They became very excited and giddy, since they knew that their wish
was bound to come true eventually.
‘On
Christmas Eve, they dolled themselves up in their best clobber and made for the
Oddfellow’s pub, which was within crawling…er, I mean, within walking
distance from their homes. Anyway, the time began ticking away as they downed
their pints of lager, sharing jokes and conversation with their friends, Steve
and Andy.
Tracy
reminded everyone that it was nearly midnight and that tonight, she and Katie would
go home early for a change. I can tell you that this brought many gasps of
surprise from the regulars in the bar. So off they went after saying their goodbyes
and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.
‘Katie
had invited Tracy to sleep over for the night, so it wasn’t long before
they were fast asleep in bed. Then at about three in the morning, they were
awakened by a noise in their bedroom. They both rubbed their eyes in disbelief
as they saw Santa at the bottom of their bed, delivering their presents.
He put his fingers to his lips in
order to silence Katie, who was just about to shout to everyone that Santa was
here! Then he quickly vanished, to the sound of sleigh bells.
‘Katie and Tracy both rushed to
the window, just in time to see Santa in his sleigh being pulled through the
sky by his reindeers and the snow was beginning to fall, settling all over
Wyke; it was going to be a white Christmas after all!
‘
”What did you wish for Katie?” asked Tracy.
‘
”I wished that Santa existed.”
‘
”So did I,” said Tracy. “I made a wish while stirring the
Christmas pudding that he would bring our presents tonight.”
‘”It’s
gonna be the best Christmas ever,” they both squealed together, while
bouncing up and down on their bed like little kids.
‘So
you see, my sweet sisters, all they ever wanted was to be kids at heart and to
have their life long wish granted, and that was to see Santa, because they’d
always believed that he existed.
‘Okay,
I think that nicely concludes our evening,’ I said.
‘It
certainly does,’ said Tabitha.
‘Yes,
let’s drink to that,’ said Lucinda. ‘Merry Christmas,
everyone!’
‘MERRY
CHRISTMAS,’ many voices replied.
