It was two days before Christmas. Daddy took me and Brenda up onto the Downs and we collected armfuls of mistletoe and holly. The snow had gone, leaving the hills wet and slushy, but I had seen them in all their snowy loveliness and I remembered.
Mum draped the green holly and bright red berries across the mantelpiece and stuck the mistletoe over the doors. Everywhere looked lovely. We had a roaring fire in the grate. Daddy had put the wheels back on the old pushchair and me and Brenda had squeaked along behind the coalman’s cart as fast as we could, waiting for the coal to tumble into the road. Some kids put bits of wood down so that more coal bounced out off the cart. Then there was a scramble as all the kids nudged and elbowed their way to the precious black lumps. The coalman shouted at us but I don’t think he really minded because he knew that we were all bloody skint. We always saved the last mince pie for him as a thank you.
Me and Brenda didn’t have any money to buy presents but Uncle John and Aunty Marge came to the rescue and let us help on the stall. Everyone at the market was in a Christmassy mood. People were dragging trees along the street and wearing tinsel around their heads. A choir started up and we packed oranges and apples and bananas to the sounds of ‘Silent Night’. It was lovely and I wished it could be Christmas every day. We stayed until it was too dark to see anything, then helped Uncle John to clear up. Aunty Marge gave us two whole shillings each: we were rich.
We walked along Western Road staring into all the shops, dazzled by the brightness of the windows. Each one was decked out for Christmas and they sparkled with gold and silver tinsel and fairy lights that shone out across the wet pavements. Wade’s was the best shop in town. We couldn’t afford to buy anything there but we pressed our noses against the big window and stared at the beautiful dolls, dressed in pink satin coats and bonnets, and the dolls’ houses with all the little pieces of furniture and the shiny new bikes and the beautiful Teddy bears with their button eyes. We knew that we would never get presents like that but we didn’t mind, it was just lovely to look at it all. While we were standing there a man and a woman walked into the shop, holding the hands of a little girl. The girl looked about Brenda’s age and was wearing a dark blue velvet coat and a little blue felt hat. She stuck her tongue out at us as she passed.
The beautiful dolly with the pink satin coat would probably be under her tree on Christmas morning. I wished I had enough money to buy that dolly for Brenda. I pulled her away from the window and half dragged her down the road.
‘Why are you cross, Maureen?’
‘Oh, I don’t bloody know! I just am.’
‘I don’t want a silly old doll.’
I stopped and put my arm around her thin shoulders. ‘You deserve that dolly more than that stuck-up little madam.’
Brenda smiled up at me. ‘She doesn’t have you though, does she? And I’d rather have you.’
‘What would I do without you, Brenda O’Connell?’
‘You don’t have to do without me, I’ll always be here.’
We left Wade’s and walked down the road until we came to Woolworths.
‘I like Woolworths best,’ said Brenda.
‘Me too,’ I replied, grinning.
The two shillings were burning a hole in my pocket but I knew that I had to spend them wisely.
Just inside the door was a beautiful Christmas tree covered in lovely decorations. Me and Brenda stood looking up at the fairy sitting on the top.
Brenda gave a big sigh. ‘How perfectly beautiful,’ she whispered.
I smiled down at her.
‘Are we going to have a tree?’ she said.
‘I don’t expect so, but we’ve got the lovely holly and the mistletoe so we don’t need a tree, do we?’
‘I suppose not. It would be nice though, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yeah, it would be nice but I don’t think we’ve got the money to buy one.’
‘I don’t need a tree.’
‘Course you don’t. It’s only a lump of wood with a few needles on it. Anyway, we’ve got nothing to decorate it with.’
‘No bloody point then, is there?’
‘You shouldn’t swear, Brenda.’
‘You do.’
‘That’s different.’
‘Why is it different?’
‘Cos I’ve got a bad mouth on me and you haven’t.’
‘I’d like to have a bad mouth on me, Maureen.’
‘Well, you can’t. It takes practice, you can listen to mine.’
‘Thanks.’
The counters were piled high with baubles and tinsel and paper lanterns and red crêpe paper and plastic Father Christmases and little wooden soldiers in green and red uniforms.
We used some of our money to buy a packet of hairgrips for Mum and a pouch of baccy for Dad.
‘Now I’m going to do a bit of shopping on my own. I’ll meet you back here by the tree, don’t talk to anyone and don’t leave the shop,’ I said.
‘Can I look at the toys?’
‘Yeah, you go and look at the toys.’
I wanted to get something for Brenda and Jack and Nelson. The store was packed, kids were running around, mums were screaming at them and dads were smoking their heads off and looking grumpy. There were so many people in there that there was hardly room to breathe as they pushed and shoved their way towards the counters. It was perfect, it was the way Christmas was supposed to be, and I loved it. I squeezed under armpits and through peoples’ legs to get to the front of the queue.
The bloke behind the counter was dressed up as Father Christmas and he smiled at me. ‘What yer looking for, love?’
‘I want something for my sister Brenda and something for my friend Jack.’
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘I don’t exactly know.’
He rummaged around under the counter and said, ‘Do you think your sister would like this?’
He was holding up a wooden monkey that climbed up a stick, did a somersault at the top and then climbed back down again. ‘I think Brenda would love that,’ I said. ‘How much is it, please?’
‘It’s a shilling,’ said the man.
I shook my head. ‘That won’t leave me enough to get something for Jack and Nelson.’
‘Oops, I’ve made a mistake! It’s sixpence. Will that suit you?’
‘That will suit me perfectly,’ I said, smiling at him.
The man winked at me and put the monkey in a paper bag. ‘Have a nice Christmas, love.’
‘And you have a nice Christmas.’
Now, what should I get for Jack?
I walked over to the toy section where I could see Brenda gazing longingly at the dolls peeping out of their boxes. I put my arm around her. ‘When I start work, I’m gonna get you one of them.’
‘Really?’
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
‘Thanks, Maureen.’
‘I’m looking for something to give to Jack.’
‘How about a tin soldier? He likes tin soldiers.’
‘He’s got loads of them already. It won’t be special. I want to get him something special.’
‘What about a hankie?’
‘Nah.’
And then I saw it, the perfect present. It was a little wooden box and on the lid was a picture of John Wayne on a horse. I still had some pennies left and I knew exactly what I was going to get with them. I wandered around until I found the wool counter.
There was a young girl standing behind the counter. She looked bored out of her skull.
‘I’ll have this, please. It’s for a Christmas present,’ I said, picking up a ball of brown wool.
‘Funny sort of present,’ she said.
‘No, it’s not,’ said Brenda, jumping to my defence.
‘Well, I wouldn’t be thrilled if you gave me a ball of brown wool for Christmas.’
‘Well, that’s alright them,’ I said. ‘Cos I’m not giving it to you, am I? I’m giving it to someone I like.’
‘Well, I hate to think what you’re giving to someone you don’t like.’
She put the wool in a bag and I passed over the last of my pennies.
‘Silly mare,’ I said, walking away.
‘Silly mare,’ said Brenda.