Writing for Fun
December 2017
Mistletoe - Pete Norman
It was the end of Jason’s world as he knew it. She had gone and she was not coming back.
It was just over a week to Christmas and it was just three days to the Works Christmas party –which he had been really looking forward to – but now that dream had evaporated. She had gone and she was not coming back.
Every year the company put on a party for the staff; it was not a huge fancy affair but it was a chance for the youngsters like Jason to mingle in a less formal atmosphere with those who were further up the pecking order and to generally let their hair down over a couple of drinks and some interesting and unusual nibbles.
Sarah had promised to go with him to the Christmas party and that had filled his thoughts to overflowing for the past few weeks but now she was gone . . . and she was not coming back.
It had all been so sudden. There had been no warning, it had taken him completely by surprise. It was as if he had been hit in the face with a house brick. He had popped into the Admin Office to collect the day’s mail for franking and Sarah was sat at her desk, talking on the phone in her very posh, formal telephone voice and he had worshipped her silently while he waited for her to finish.
As she replaced the phone she looked up and appeared to notice Jason for the first time. He smiled and said, ‘Three more days to the party – only three more days to go.’
He was unable to read the blank expression on her face but in hindsight he should have realised that something was terribly wrong. It was only when she said the fateful words that his world crumbled around him.
‘I am so sorry, Jason but I will be going to the party with Leon.’
Jason stood for a few moments with his mouth open, his befuddled brain unable to find any response to this devastating revelation. He had thought they were a couple, an item, boyfriend and girlfriend. She had appeared to be so excited at the prospect of going to the party with him but now she had cast him aside like yesterday’s newspaper.
There was no way that he could respond with any degree of coherence so he simply mumbled something bland and idiotic and fled the office before she could see his tears.
He normally would have met up with her for lunch but today he deliberately delayed his break until he knew she would be back at her desk and then shuffled miserably into the cafeteria, though his heart was not really in it. He absently scanned the board and settled on the chicken curry. He looked up at the lady behind the counter to give his order and his heart almost stopped. Instead of Gladys, the matriarch of the servery, there stood a goddess.
She was absolutely stunning despite the fact that her long blond hair was tied back and tucked beneath a white net hat, her body enveloped by shapeless white overalls and her tiny hands enclosed in pale blue plastic gloves.
For the second time in as many hours he was rendered utterly speechless. The poor girl was waiting patiently for him to place his order but he was in another world entirely, a world that was full to overflowing with the magnetic attraction of her soft aquamarine eyes.
An impatient cough from the queue behind him dragged him out of his reverie. He knew that he had to say something but he had completely lost the power of speech. He gestured at the curry and stood transfixed as he watched the subtle and sinuous movements of her hands as she ladled the food onto his plate. He wanted to say something to her, something clever and witty, something friendly and encouraging but all he could manage was, ‘Could I have a scoop of mashed potatoes as well, please.’ Her warm smile at his unusual request made his heart flutter.
He wondered whether, new to the company as she was, she might even be going to the Christmas party . . .
On Saturday morning he pulled his bicycle out from the shed and rode off happily to a particularly large oak tree which, for as long as he had known, had sported several huge bunches of mistletoe high up in its canopy.
He was no stranger to climbing trees and, making use of the crossbar of the bike, he hauled himself up onto the lowest branch. After that it was simplicity itself, he scrambled like a monkey higher and higher until the precious parasite was within reach. He did not want to be greedy – he had no need to be greedy – he broke off a small sprig and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
The climb down was a lot trickier but he descended with confidence until he was near to the bottom when his foot slipped off the branch and he fell some distance to the ground. His body was screaming out in agony, though in his panicked state it was difficult to know which part of it was the worst affected or if he had actually broken anything.
A car pulled over and a concerned lady rushed over to help him while her husband phoned for an ambulance. He felt so foolish, he tried to make light of the situation and he tried to pull himself to his feet but the lady was most insistent that he should stay still until the medical experts arrived.
While he waited he came to the conclusion that he might well turn a bright shade of purple and blue for a few days but that he was otherwise ok. However, he was sensible enough to lay passively to await confirmation of the fact.
A few minutes later an ambulance pulled up, flagged down by the lady’s husband but he could see immediately that it was not a regular ambulance, it had the words St John’s on the side. The driver was a large elderly man who hurried across to him with a large bag in his hand. As the man knelt by his side to examine him the passenger came into view behind her driver. For the second time in as many days his heart nearly stopped. She looked so different in her St John’s uniform. She smiled, she clearly recognised him and he felt a sense of deep embarrassment that she should find him in such a state, brought on by his own reckless stupidity. This was not quite the first encounter he might have hoped for.
Together they conducted a thorough and professional examination and finally the driver stood up and dismissed him gruffly, ‘Nowt broken, ‘cept maybe your pride. Think you’ll live to fight another day.’
Heather took his arm and helped him up. ‘We will need to get your details for the log.’ As they were walking back to the ambulance she said, ‘I’ve never heard of mashed potato on curry before.’
Jason laughed. ‘You ought to try it sometime, it’s really rather nice.’
She recorded his details and then asked, ‘Aren’t you a bit old to be climbing trees?’
Jason grimaced. ‘Seems like I’m not too old to fall out of them.’
She was clearly waiting for some kind of explanation and before his brain could stop them his lips began to move of their own volition. ‘I only went up there for this.’ He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small and now very crumpled sprig of mistletoe.
Heather grinned mischievously. ‘And why might you be needing that, may I ask?’
Jason blushed. ‘It’s for the Christmas party.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Do you think you might . . . like to come with me?
She shook her head. ‘I am really sorry, Jason but someone else has already asked me.’ She gave him a shy smile. ‘But it would be a shame to waste this.’ She took the mistletoe from his fingers and held it over his head and then she brushed her lips softly across his. ‘It is a shame, you know. I would have said yes . . .’
Jason had been so looking forward to the party but now he had two very good reasons not to. However, at the last minute he decided to put a brave face on it and go. At least he could have a drink with a couple of his workmates and kick-start the Christmas celebrations.
When he first arrived he saw Sarah but she was sitting all on her own in a corner hugging a very large glass of red wine and it was clearly not her first. Her mascara was smudged and she looked as if she had been crying. His first thought was to go across and see what the problem was, to comfort her but then on the other side of the room he caught sight of Heather. Leon was standing very close to her and his arm was resting around her shoulders.
A sudden surge of jealousy forced every altruistic thought from his mind. Let Sarah suffer just as she had made him suffer. He walked over to the bar and ordered a beer.
As the party progressed Jason and his two mates began to unwind. He was a little upset when he saw Sarah walking towards the door with her coat on and a part of him wanted to follow her but the other part knew that that would be a very bad idea.
He could not help but pay a lot of attention to Heather who looked as if she was not enjoying herself at all. Leon was getting louder and more tactile as the party wore on; she seemed to be forever pushing him away but with little effect. In the end he was shocked when she slapped his face so ferociously that all conversation ceased and all eyes focussed on the couple.
Leon grabbed her shoulders and began to shout angrily but a couple of the managers intervened and she fled across the room. She appeared to see Jason for the first time and stopped. There was a nasty red wheal on her cheek and her eyes were red . . . but she was still the most beautiful girl in the room.
She put her hand on Jason’s arm, much to the amazement of his friends and said, ‘Jason, do think you could . . .’
He took her arm and led her across to the door, being careful to stay well away from the fracas surrounding Leon. As they stepped out into the cool evening air she stopped and said, ‘I don’t suppose you remembered to bring the mistletoe?’
He shook his head.
She smiled as she drew him closer. ‘Who needs that stuff anyway?’