December 21st 2009 – Christmas Visit

It was a change for Tom. Apparently he was going to get a proper family Christmas. His mate Biscuit had invited him home for the holidays. Biscuit’s family came from a large detached house in Blackpool, near Stanley Park. Tom had his own en-suite bedroom promised. Luxury!

En route from their Catterick base, the two privates were dressed in combats. Trousers, black boots and jackets with the sleeves rolled over forearms. They’d got off the cross-country train at Preston. They had a forty-minute wait for their local connection to Blackpool, which meant heading straight for the bar. Both of them were ready with ID. They were the oldest members of their intake and had already had their eighteenth birthdays. But it never hurt to have proof of age ready.

The room was packed and noisy. Roy Wood was wishing it could be Christmas every day. Crowds of travellers were heading home for the holidays. The soldiers’ uniforms earned a smile from the blonde girl serving behind the counter.

They ordered two pints of lager and Biscuit proffered a tenner. But the girl shook her head. She pointed back over their heads. A group of businessmen, in smarts suits and ties, all briefcases, laptops and phones were shouting across to them. One got up and walked over to the bar. He was getting out his wallet.

“Those are on me.”

“Thanks.”

The two soldiers raised their glasses in salute.

“You’re welcome.”

The businessman gave them a strange, semi embarrassed smile and returned to his group. The sight of the two young men, who were training to risk their lives, seemed to affect the group. In fact there was a noticeable reduction in the overall noise level in the room. Tom and Biscuit didn’t notice though. They were too busy talking amongst themselves about their week’s leave. The thought of their impending deployment didn’t come up.

As Tom lay in his bed that night, he considered his life back in his home town. Two months ago his mother had called him up, arseholed. He’d been shocked. Since his daughter had been born, his mother had definitely sobered up a bit. But on this call she was completely out of it. Gone back to her old ways. From what he could decode from the slurred words it seemed as though his mam had been banned from seeing the little girl. Tom couldn’t say he was surprised. She always screwed things up. And apparently it was all Tom’s fault. If only he hadn’t joined up. If only if he’d tried harder with Chloe. Tom took ten minutes of shit from her and then abruptly hung up.

He thought back to the Facebook message he’d received two days before. It was from Chloe. It had completely thrown him. After all that crap from his mam, he’d got the impression that she wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire. But the website told a different story.

There was a picture of his little girl Eve. And then came the message itself. It started with the night they’d slept together. That evening was as much a mystery to Tom as it was to her. Then explaining her desire to talk about it. And the hurt she’d felt when he hadn’t wanted to communicate. And the despair she’d suffered on having to go through the whole pregnancy thing without his support. Not to mention the birth and the exhaustion of looking after a baby for its first year. Especially when she was just a girl herself.

But she had appreciated the fact that he’d always sent money for her. The outfit Eve was wearing in the picture was from his money. Chloe wanted to just forget the last two years and move on. Get him involved with their daughter’s life.

Tom had definitely matured. He’d grown up a lot since joining up. Getting back in Chloe’s life sounded good to him right now. Looking back he was thoroughly ashamed of ignoring her. Looks like she just wanted to open up about what had happened. Not badger him into a relationship he didn’t want. Or thought he didn’t want at the time.

He might have contacted her earlier that year if his crazy old mam hadn’t got involved. Screaming at him that Chloe couldn’t stand him. That she was going round saying he’d see the baby over her dead body. Looks like nothing could have been further from the truth. Anyway, the message ended with a hope that in this season of goodwill they could make a fresh start, even if it wasn’t for them, then for Eve. Tom hoped they could. Chloe had put her mobile number at the end of the message. He’d text her before Christmas.