24 December 2014
Christmas Eve had always seemed far longer than any other day of the year when he was a kid. The prolonged wait for it to be over so that Christmas Day with all its presents could finally begin. The stress of everyone doing the last minute preparations, cleaning, running around town buying the final gifts, the remaining food and drinks. Always feeling as if he was in the way of the grown-ups.
Now John Paul was one of those stressed-out grown-ups, and as he ran from one high street store to the next, he vowed never to make Matthew feel like he'd done as a child. There would be no last-minute shopping for presents, forgetting to buy the stuffing for the turkey or the Christmas crackers, nor would there be any cleaning on this day, as off next year. Everything would be done and Christmas Eve would be spent at home, watching telly, then when Matthew would be in bed, Craig and him would go out for a bit, just to experience the atmosphere, knowing that they'd be ready for the festivities to begin.
Today, this could not be the plan, however, as he'd not managed to do his shopping in London as planned, and all the rollercoaster ride of emotions of the last couple of days had made him forget that Christmas was just around the corner. Carmel had been kind enough to babysit for him and Craig, who'd also not finished his shopping, so they'd gone to Chester city centre together. Once there, they'd split up as they didn't want the other one to know what they were buying each other, but had made plans to meet for dinner at seven o'clock.
Amazingly both had finished their shopping earlier than expected and were already in the pub where they'd arranged to meet almost half an hour early. They had a drink and ordered their food.
"So, all done?" Craig asked as they took a seat in a quiet-ish corner.
"Yup. All in here!" John Paul replied and lifted his bags teasingly. "Wanna guess what's yours?"
"All of them?" Craig joked.
"No, it's for my sisters, mum, Matthew, Kathleen Angel, your mum, and a tiny little thing for you, perhaps." John Paul winked at his boyfriend.
"You got my mum something?" Craig asked in worried tone. "I didn't get anything for Myra."
"You don't have to. I just wanna say 'Thanks' to your mum for everything she's done for me and Matthew ever since…" John Paul tried to explain.
"Well, that's it. I need to do the same for your mum…" Craig cut him off, "and your sisters, and Theresa. They've been wonderful to Matthew, while I…" He couldn't finish, the guilt he felt evident on his face.
"Craig," John Paul whispered gently as he reached across the table to take Craig's hand, "stop it. You're here now. No need to go on blaming yourself. If you want to get them some presents that's fine, but you don't have to, just because I'm giving one to your mum."
Craig gave his boyfriend a grateful smile. "Nah, I'll get them some. I just didn't think off it earlier. I want to."
"Okay, so what's the plan after dinner? You need to go do some more shopping, then, I gather? I'm done so I'll just head home. You just join me when you're done. Unless you want to go sleep at your mum's?" John Paul asked.
"Well, I'll check some shops. I'll probably then take everything to my mum's, but I'd like to come around yours later?" Craig replied with a question of his own.
"Sure thing. Just come over whenever. I'll be up." John Paul replied.
"Okay, mum, I'm going over to John Paul's," Craig shouted at his mum who was busy making the last preparations for tomorrow's big meal. "See you tomorrow."
"Come here, love!" She ordered her son who obeyed without a complaint. "It's almost midnight! Merry Christmas!" She gave him a kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well!" She pushed him away towards the kitchen door and returned to her work.
Craig left the flat and walked through the pub, waving at Darren and Jack who were still busy serving drinks. Outside he started his walk over to the McQueen house. As he walked around the pond he got an idea and when he got to the next corner he made the wrong turn. He wondered whether it was a good idea, though, it might be too dark, but once he'd reached his unplanned destination, he found it to be well lit. Candles were burning on most graves and he could easily find his way to the one he'd wanted to visit.
There was no candle on Sarah Barnes' grave. Craig felt stupid, as he hadn't brought one himself. Stupid and sad. All of Sarah's family had now left town and none had managed to make the journey back to her grave for Christmas Eve.
"Are you alright, young man?" Someone asked him kindly. Craig turned around and saw an elderly gentleman standing a few metres away. He smiled at him and nodded.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just visiting a friend's grave." He said sheepishly.
"It's sad when they die so young." The man said as he approached the grave. "Girlfriend, ay?" He asked cheekily.
"Once. Yes. A few years before she died, though." Craig felt himself blush as he explained.
"Doesn't change the fact that you once loved her, does it?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"No, it doesn't." Craig replied.
"You don't have a candle, do you?" The old man asked.
"No, I didn't think of it. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to come here and I didn't…" Craig felt awkward.
"You can have one of mine." The man offered. "I always bring an extra one or two in case there's no light on one of the graves near my wife's. And my son's. They're over there." He pointed at freshly lit candles a few metres away. "I'd decided to put one here anyway." He handed Craig a candle. "Do you want to light it yourself? I can lend you my matches?"
Craig nodded and accepted the items. "Thank you. You're very kind."
"Merry Christmas, my son." The older man withdrew and went back to his wife and son's graves.
Craig turned towards Sarah's grave and lit a match. He then lit the candle and gently positioned it on the grave so that the flame shone its light on the name on the headstone.
"Merry Christmas, Sarah." He whispered as he touched the letters of her name. "Thank you for your guidance. Thank you for helping me see what I truly wanted. Thank you for forgiving me." He felt the tears trying to push through. "I hope I won't need your help with this again, but feel free to stick around and see me once in a while." He chuckled quietly. "But only if you want to," he added. "I want you to have peace."
Craig remained in silence at Sarah's grave for a few minutes. When he turned to give the old man back his matches, he was gone.
"Mum, I'm coming with you."
Myra was taken aback by her son who'd appeared at the top of the staircase, wearing his coat, but she didn't ask any questions, just allowed her son to take her arm as they walked in the direction of the church.
John Paul hadn't been to midnight mass on Christmas Eve since before puberty. Once he'd started realising that he was gay, he'd quickly turned his back on the Church, as he'd felt it only made him feel more shame. Something was changing, though, with the new Pope, he felt. The aftermath of the rape had made John Paul re-evaluate himself completely. He'd lost his identity, his self-confidence, his foundation, but as he started seeking guidance, one of the things he'd done was reconsider his spirituality, and what he'd heard and read from Pope Francis had made him feel hopeful that he'd manage to heal. And his recent talks with Father Daniel had made him more willing to believe in what he'd been taught as a child.
The church was packed, just like he remembered it being on Christmas Eve. The midnight mass at Christmas always felt different than other service, lighter and in a way more spiritual. Not just because many of the congregation were in fact under the influence of spirits, but because the sermons actually moved them. The story of the little baby, born into this world in the poorest of conditions, who'd grown up to become one of the most influential people in the history of mankind, through his preaching of charity and love, never ceased to amaze and inspire people.
John Paul couldn't help being reminded of the birth of his own son. How he'd initially decided he didn't want him, not owned up to being his father, tried to get rid of him. The true joy Matthew had brought to his life. How Matthew had been the most important source of his recovery after the rape.
John Paul suddenly became aware that his mother had risen to her feet. He looked around and saw that many were already making their way up the aisle. He didn't hesitate and followed his mother.
Father Daniel gave him a smile of genuine compassion as he offered him the body and blood of Christ, and John Paul felt loved and cherished as he accepted.