The Promise – December CW

She woke. The weak sun-light filtered through the curtains. She felt a bit like that sun: light, but remote and far distant from the earth. She stretched. The aches and pains that usually assailed her body when she woke were not there. What a pleasant change to have no physical discomfort. Don’t question it – accept it and be grateful! Normally it was such an effort to find the energy to get up. This morning she didn’t feel weak and wan. In fact, she was almost, but not quite, full of energy – ready to face the day: Christmas Day.

She had promised her children, their children, and their children’s children that she would spend part of the day with them. At the time she made the promise she was not happy. She’d always hated making promises. She would wriggle and squirm rather than make a commitment that she might not be able to keep. Promises were sacred. When she made a promise she would move heaven and earth to keep it and so she tried to avoid making any promises at all. How well her family knew her! They had worked out every one of her possible objections. In the end she had conceded. She would be there on Christmas Day – whatever.

As was her custom, she headed first for the kettle and a cup of coffee. It was a long-standing joke – don’t stand between Mum and her early morning dose of caffeine. She took her coffee outside and lit a cigarette. Politically incorrect, socially unacceptable, and ruinously expensive, she had, with great difficulty, given up a long time ago. But when her husband had died earlier that year, she saw no reason to try to prolong a lonely life and had taken up the habit again. Her family disapproved, but had said that there would be a space in the garden all set up with an ash-tray where she could sit and puff away to her heart’s content – but she should not expect anyone to keep her company. “Good”, she’d thought; she would probably need some space out from all the noise and clatter that family get-togethers engendered. But, being tactful, she simply replied “That’s fine, I know you have a problem with your sinuses when the smoke gets in your eyes.”

Someone was picking her up at 11.00 am. As she slowly pottered around getting ready she thought about her dreams of the night before. They were usually inhabited by friends long dead, or more recently departed. There was no one here to share her long-distant memories, but they were in her dreams and so part of her present. Some, whom she had not dealt with well, gave her forgiveness, others, who had not treated her well, sought forgiveness but mostly her dreams were just pleasantly filled by the ghosts of people who had shared some part of her life. Last night was different. She’d had an argument with her husband. She couldn’t remember what it was about. He had been insistent and she had been equally determined not to do what he asked.

Prompt at 11 o’clock, the door bell rang. She picked up the bag of her Christmas Gifts – not very inspiring – mostly just Christmas Cards with money – and walked out of the house.

She didn’t know the person behind the wheel of the car. He was quite surly. He didn’t help her into the car, ignored her attempts at conversation, didn’t help her out of the car and, on arrival at her destination, had stormed up to her daughter’s front door.

His problem – she thought.

She wandered into the garden. What a crowd. The place was packed. She found her way to her ‘smoking area’ and sat down. She put her bag of goodies on the table and pulled the cigarettes out of her hand-bag. She really needed a cigarette before facing that lot!

She looked around. At the edge of her vision she caught sight of people that she vaguely recognised, but they were too far away to identify with certainty and her attention was drawn away from them to her daughter talking to the driver.

Jane looked worried – and rushed indoors. Through the patio windows she saw Jane using the phone. Then Jane smiled and put the phone down.

———-

Jane was concerned – as were most of the people around her. The old lady had not answered her door, despite the driver ringing the door-ball, banging on the door and calling out, nor was she answering her phone. Suddenly, Jane caught the whiff of cigarette smoke. Jane smiled, and said “It’s alright. She probably forgot we were sending a car for her and got a taxi. She’s in the garden.” Jane flew down the path towards her, with everyone following.

———-

She really felt very remote and disconnected now. She shut her eyes. She was aware of someone standing very close; someone who spoke very quietly. “It’s time to go” he said. “You kept your promise and came, but it’s now time to leave.” She opened her eyes; her husband held out his hand, she took it and they left.

———-

Jane turned the corner to the smoking area. There was no one there – just a bag of Christmas presents on the table, and the smoke curling up from the half-smoked cigarette in the ash-tray.