Once upon a Christmas …
"So? How was the party last night?" asked Bernie the next evening.
"Oh, it was …Okay – quite …full of surprises actually …"
Bernie sat down at the kitchen table : "Tell me ?".
"Are you sure you don't know already ?"
"Know what ? How am I supposed to know what's going on at Holby better than you ?"
"Because it's not completely Holby-related !"
"If you stopped talking in riddles, I might be able to understand you, and we could possibly think of doing something other than playing charades tonight !"
"Very well – but don't shoot me – I'm only the messenger. Morven did have something to tell us – she wasn't happy at Holby anymore – too many memories, you know …" Serena winced. The night before, Morven had taken her aside, and explained what had prompted her decision – apparently, she regularly "saw" Arthur at work. Serena's rational brain told her this was only hallucinations brought about by overwork, although …Anyways, there were too many ghosts for them at Holby.
"Yes, and ? She hasn't told me anything, if that's what you're thinking."
"Bernie, Morven is leaving Holby to go to Jamaica for at least six months …with Cameron …"
"With… With Cam? But he didn't say … I mean …" said Bernie in a small voice , "he could have told me."
"I'm sorry, darling. That's why I thought maybe you knew."
"No, he didn't – actually, I got a text from him saying he wouldn't be able to come for Christmas, but that he would call me, so …Well, at least Morven is a huge improvement on his ghastly London girlfriend…."
Serena nodded, and added tentatively: "It does seem as if uncommunicativeness runs in your family…"
Bernie gave her a wounded look: "And what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Come on… I can see you're hiding something from me."
"None of your business!"
"Aah – so I'm right – there IS something."
Bernie got up and stalked out of the room. The appointment with the psychiatrist was in two days' time, and she was getting more and more nervous by the minute. To learn that Cameron had kept her out of his plans had only added to her current misery, and she was almost glad he wasn't coming for Christmas. For one, he was all too perceptive, and if he allied himself with Serena, she was afraid she would crack and blurt out the whole sorry story. And she in turn would probably have asked him too many questions about his future plans, and that would have angered him. She was afraid that going to Jamaica was only a way to stall – it was still medicine, shadowing local doctors and helping the population, but it was not cutting-edge trauma surgery, and Bernie hoped Cameron would follow in her own footsteps. And going with Morven …She liked Morven – she was driven, a good doctor, and a very nice girl – but what if she got pregnant? From her own experience, she knew it would considerably hinder her studies, and what had been difficult in the 1980s had become even more so. Moreover, Marcus had been able to support both of them then, thanks to family money, but Cameron had no personal income, and he wouldn't earn enough to support a wife and a baby… Oh, Gods! And Cameron was so contrary that if she said anything against Jamaica, it would only straighten his resolve to go. As for Charlotte, she had her sent a card with presents at her father's, but she hadn't heard anything in return. She would try to phone on Christmas Day, but …
She really wasn't looking forward to the 25th of December – last year had been excruciating, but at least Eleanor had still been alive, and Cameron had come. Bernie missed her mother terribly in the yuletide. She had died just a week before Christmas. They had decorated the tree two days before, just she and her mother, as her father was on ops. They had made little gingerbread biscuits and cinnamon swirls to hang, and paper chains, and it had been the first year Berenice had been tall enough to put the fairy on the top, perched on a stepladder. The day before her mother's death, they had gone to rehearse the carols at the base's chapel. Her mother sung in the choir – she had a clear soprano which usually earned her a solo – in fact, if she closed her eyes, Bernie could still hear her mother's voice singing Heilige Nacht during that rehearsal… Since then, the smell of gingerbread and cinnamon brought a slight feeling of déjà vu and nausea….
Bernie knew Christmas would be painful for Serena too. She would grieve for her daughter all over again. Christmas was all right with children around, but when there was no one to believe in Santa, ghosts tended to sweep in and stir up the most painful memories…
The next morning, Bernie found a welcome email in her inbox. At least she thought it was welcome, but on second thoughts, it might just draw out the agony …The psychiatrist had had a personal emergency, and wouldn't be able to see her before the new year. So she decided to concentrate on Christmas, and on keeping her own troubles to herself for the time being. She didn't even tell Serena that she was disappointed about Cameron – at least she still had two lovely living children, even if one of them was incommunicado and the other not very communicative…
They'd decided to spend Christmas Eve at Bernie's – the memories from the year before would have weighted too heavily on their minds at Serena's, and neither of them wanted to spend the evening in a restaurant with happy families all around. She hadn't decorated the flat or anything, but she had popped into the supermarket and cleaned a little - at least enough for them to sit comfortably without having to clear the sofa first.
They were just settling down with all sorts of nibbles and a bottle of red wine when the lights flickered and went off.
"Oh drat! Microwave, hairdryer and electric heater at the same time must have make the power trip out! This is the last straw!"
The early evening had been fraught with various mishaps. The brie and cranberry tartlets had burnt to a crisp in an over-heated oven. Serena had spilt nearly half a bottle of olive oil – she'd thought she was pouring it in the bowl, but she'd been distracted by the oven alarm, and had poured it on the worktop instead. Obviously, it had then largely run all over the floor. Then Bernie, who'd been looking for a serving plate in a low cupboard, had found it at the bottom of the pile, and had tried such a complicated way of extricating the one she wanted that she'd let two other plates fall on the floor, where they'd immediately smashed into smithereens. And as of course she'd tried to rescue them, she'd forgotten the cupboard opened above her, and her forehead now sported a huge bruise… And if that wasn't enough, Serena had nearly set fire to the kitchen, leaving a tea towel on the hot oven door. As Bernie remarked, it was lucky for them CCTV didn't extend to inside the homes, otherwise no one would believe they were talented consultant surgeons …
Bernie switched on her phone to use the torch app, and went to have a look at the fuse box: "Everything seems to be ok in there. I'm no electrician, but the breaker is in the right position – I'm going to try and switch it on and off, but …"
The flat remained in darkness. Serena went to the window to have a look, and remarked: "Might be slightly more complicated than the breaker, darling…the whole street seems to be in black-out. And it's snowing, too, which may explain it."
"Oh, bother! It had to happen tonight! They'll never get enough technicians out on Christmas Eve!"
"You don't happen to have an oil lamp lying around somewhere, do you, Bernie ?"
"Afraid not; nor a generator, which is what we could really use right now. However … I think I've got candles- I got them for free at the supermarket last week."
"And one of the advantages of being smokers – at least we've got matches. I hope the electricity's still working in other parts of town, otherwise Jason's going to go berserk if he can't watch Dr Who…"
"Poor Jason! Right – here are the candles." Bernie came back into the room with two huge candles, a green one in Christmas tree shape and a red round one.
"Hmm …I must say you've got great taste in candles," said Serena teasingly.
"Hush! Told you they were a gift! At least they're not scented."
"Small mercies, eh ?"
Bernie put them on the coffee table and produced a box of matches. She lit one, and handed the box to Serena. The match burned brightly, and suddenly Bernie found herself sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree – the tree seemed huge, and she was wearing pajamas with little red and white teddy bears. In her hands was the present she'd just opened – something she'd asked Father Christmas for, a Sindy doll in a ball gown. Also under the trees were other unwrapped presents – an Etch-a- Sketch and a Monopoly. She thought the last one wasn't a very good choice, as she didn't have any siblings to play with, but she was enchanted by the doll. She lifted her eyes and turned her head when she heard a flash. Her mother was kneeling on the floor, Polaroid camera in hand: "Smile, darling – I'll send the best ones to Daddy." She smiled obediently for the camera, and turned to the doll again. And then, she was in her mother's arms. The only light in the room came from the television, Christmas with the Stars on the screen. She nestled closer to her mother – close enough feel the scent of Chanel N 5 and vanilla cookies transfer on her own skin, close enough to feel like everything was right in the world and she was loved, she was safe…
Serena struck a match, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into a room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it were many plates, a Christmas pudding, and a big chocolate Yule log. The table was too high for the little girl, no more than two or three years old, wearing a pink fairy dress, whose seat had been raised by a pile of cushions. Her chin was nearly in her plate, and her face and her hands were covered with chocolate. She was grinning mischievously and looking at her parents out of the corner of her eyes – she knew no one would scold her on Christmas. And indeed, Serena scooped her from the chair, and smothered her with kisses, laughing: "Come on, Ellie-baby, let's get you cleaned up - otherwise Santa's reindeer will think you're a new type of biscuit and gobble you up." The little girl giggled, and Serena hugged her harder…
They both got up at the same time, and went to the window – the street was still in darkness, but the sky was lit up with stars – as they were watching, hand in hand, one fell down and formed a long trail of fire… the warmth ran through their bodies and their hearts. Bernie and Serena had tears in their eyes but a smile on their faces…
(thanks to HC Andersen, to be continued…)