A Christmas in Oxford
The doorbell rang and Laura frowned. She glanced at her watch. 8pm on Christmas Eve. She was on call and home by herself, tucked up under a throw with an old Agatha Christie novel, and a large mug of tea, and very much not expecting visitors. She set down the book and got up, tossing the throw to one side before padding out to the front door. She tiptoed up to peek through the spy hole before opening the door. "Hello," she said softly, smiling at her visitor. "Laura," he replied "can I come in?" She nodded, opening the door wider and gesturing that he should come inside. "You alright?" she asked, shutting the door against the chill of the night and he sighed, shoving his hands into his pocket in a way that she recognised as meaning he was frustrated. "You've always said that I could come round if I needed…" he began and Laura brought her hand to his arm, indicating that he should come and sit on the sofa. "You know my door is always open," she replied warmly as they came into her living room. "I just… I'm just fed up of being alone. I just needed to see a friendly face," he said, hands still firmly wedged in his pockets and Laura considered him for a moment. "I'm glad you felt you could come over," she replied kindly and he sighed. "Take your coat off," she chided softly "look as if you're staying."
Laura walked into her kitchen, flicking on the light, and putting the kettle on to boil. "I'm on call," she explained "but can I get you a drink?" She glanced over to the dining table where he was standing, almost nervously. "I've got beer and wine and whiskey…" Laura offered and he shook his head. Laura put the kettle on and then came to stand in front of him. She considered his expression carefully. "You look as though you might need a hug," she observed lightly and he looked at her, expression pained. She stepped forward and gently took his hand into hers, and he squeezed her fingers. Laura cupped his jaw gently and rubbed her thumb over his cheek and he leant into her touch, closing his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her against him and holding her close. Laura couldn't have said how long they stood for but she sensed that he needed this. She closed her eyes and hoped that her phone wasn't going to spring into life. A shout at the moment would have been horribly inconvenient. It was only when she felt her shoulder getting damp through the fabric that she realised he was crying. Weeping silently. Laura grimaced and held him a little tighter. "It's alright," she murmured, leaning her head against his. "Christmas can be the worst time of year, eh?" Laura observed a few minutes later, when his tears appeared to have stopped but he showed no sign of letting her go. He nodded, and sniffed, before extricating himself from her arms sufficiently to be able to look at her and then kiss her cheek. "Thank you Laura," he mumbled and she rubbed her thumb over his cheek again. "Pleasure," she replied and they smiled at each other. "Now, that drink. What's your poison Inspector?" Laura enquired warmly. "I'll have a whiskey," he replied "if you're offering." Laura nodded and squeezed his hand before walking over to her cupboard and retrieving a cut glass tumbler. He arched an eyebrow and she shrugged. "It is Christmas. A girl has to have some kind of standards," she replied and he chuckled. "You are a good friend Laura," he said levelly and Laura flashed him a smile. She located a bottle of single malt and poured him a couple of fingers. She passed it to him, and then turned to make herself another cup of tea.
"Go and sit on the sofa," Laura suggested "I'll be right with you." He turned, picking up his glass and following her instructions. Laura poured hot water over the tea bag and let it steep, before turning to the fridge to retrieve the milk. She poured some into the cup and then squeezed the tea bag before ditching it into the compost bin. She picked up the mug, and retrieved the biscuit tin before going to join him in the living room. Laura sat herself down on the sofa, curling her legs underneath her and he leant back against the sofa, gazing at her. "What would I do without you?" he asked and she smiled, curling her fingers around the handle of the mug. "I dread to think," Laura replied levelly and she flashed him a smile. "Fancy a film?" she asked and he shrugged, taking a gulp of his whiskey. "What's on?" he asked and Laura reached for the Radio Times. He chuckled. "Very old school of you, Laura," he observed and she smiled to herself. "I only buy it at Christmas. A sort of nostalgia," she replied thoughtfully and he shook his head in amusement. Laura considered the page in front of her. "Love Actually. Die Hard, which I'm vetoing. Or there's a Bond film…?" She looked at him and he shrugged. "Not bothered. Just grateful for some company," he replied and her expression softened. "Well, you can judge me all you like, but I'm going to opt for Love Actually," Laura decided and he raised his eyebrows. "S'my house, matey, and if I want to watch Richard Curtis when I'm on call on Christmas Eve, then I jolly well will," Laura retorted, and he leant over and captured her hand into his. "It's fine," he replied and she squeezed his fingers. At length, he tugged at her fingers and she wriggled over next to him, before setting her now empty mug on the coffee table. He set his glass next to it, and then wrapped his arm around Laura's shoulder, cuddling her into him and then pressing a gently kiss onto the top of her head. "Thank you," he murmured and she smiled, allowing him to draw him against her.
By the end of the evening, she realised he'd dozed off, and as the credits rolled, she gently coaxed him into shifting so that his head was resting in his lap. He protested vaguely, and she threaded her fingers through his hair. He murmured something incomprehensible and she smiled indulgently. "You're fine sweetheart," Laura said, picking up her book and beginning to read again. Eventually though, Laura mused, she needed to turn in for the night and she didn't have the heart to turn him out into the night. She marked her place in the book, and then set it down carefully. Running her fingers through his hair again, he stirred and then sat up, confused for a moment about where he was. "Sorry, Laura," he said sleepily. "Would you like to stay?" Laura asked kindly. "My spare room's made up, and I can loan you something to sleep in. My brother's pjs," Laura explained and he looked relieved. "Would you mind?" he asked, feeling awkward and Laura smiled broadly. "I wouldn't offer if I minded," she reminded him and he nodded. "That'd be… yeah, please. Thank you," he replied. "Come on," Laura said "I'll lock up, and find you a spare toothbrush. Give me two minutes and come upstairs." She stood up and he slipped his hand into hers, tugging it so that she looked at him. "I honestly don't know what I would do without you, love," he owned and Laura considered him. She smiled and shrugged modestly. "Let me lock up," she replied, squeezing his fingers affectionately, and then going to lock up. When she came into the hall he was sat at the bottom of the stairs, and she smiled at the sight. She slid her phone into her pocket, and tucked her keys onto the hook. Laura glanced over her go bag, checked that her big winter coat was on the hook and then turned to her guest. "Shall we?" she suggested and he nodded. "Aye," he replied simply and he smiled. When she reached the top of the stairs, she went straight into the spare room, and dug through one of the cupboards, retrieving a pair of pyjamas, some travel sized soap and a spare toothpaste, and a hand towel. "Bathroom is all yours," she said kindly, handing him the pile of stuff "and there's an extra blanket in the wardrobe. So help yourself. I'll drop you a text if I get called out in the middle of the night, but make yourself at home in the morning if I'm not here." He considered her for a moment, and they shared a smile. "Goodnight," she murmured and he kissed her cheek affectionately.
As he lay tucked up in Laura's spare room, he wondered quite how he'd come to find himself here. Yet it had seemed the obvious place to come when he felt quite so dark about the world. Christmas had been difficult for several years now, He wasn't sure what had quite led him to turn up on Laura's doorstep but with his family otherwise engaged, he found himself alone on Christmas Eve and thoroughly miserably about it. Faced with the lure of a full bottle of whiskey, or escaping to a friendly face, he'd opted for the latter and before he really knew what was going on, he'd found himself stood on Laura's doorstep, knowing that she would make time for him. And she had. He'd not meant to literally cry on her shoulder but her kindness and warmth had overwhelmed him. And cuddling up on the sofa had just felt right, to pull her into his arms and hunker down with her for a few hours. He yawned, closing his eyes, and gradually dozing off to sleep, the faintest hint of her perfume soothing him into slumber.
The following morning, Laura woke early, instinctively reaching for her phone. She'd never yet slept through a shout but she remained slightly paranoid that she might. No calls. That was a relief. She considered the time and then swung her legs out of bed, reaching for her dressing gown and tying it around her. She switched on the bedside light, and then made her way quietly down the stairs. Once in the kitchen, she filled the kettle and set it on to boil. She pulled out the teapot, and dropped a few tea bags into it, before locating her favourite mug. She retrieved the milk from the fridge, and then, as the kettle boiled, poured the water over the tea bags before setting the pot aside to brew. A noise made her look up and she smiled as her visitor loomed into view. He'd pulled his jumper on over his borrowed pyjamas and she flashed him a smile. "Merry Christmas," she said "fancy a brew?" He nodded and perched on the edge of the table, watching her potter about in the kitchen, enjoying the simplicity of the domesticity of it all. "I've missed this," he said and Laura turned to him, eyebrow raised. "I'm reasonably confident we've never done this before," Laura observed, a hint of amusement in her features and he looked at her reproachfully. "It's the being by myself, I just get a bit fed up of my own company sometimes," he said and she flashed him a smile, before pouring two cups of tea and passing one over to him. "I know," Laura said as she walked round to stand in front of him. "And you know that you are always welcome here, day or night," Laura continued and he set his cup down, taking Laura's hand into his and then pressing a kiss against her palm. "Thank you," he said, meeting her gaze steadily "you are the very best of friends, and I would be utterly lost without you." He ducked down and kissed her cheek affectionately. "Happy Christmas, Laura, love," he murmured and she smiled, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. "Happy Christmas to you too Robbie," she replied softly, and they smiled at each other, content to be together, two friends, in bad times and in good.