Home For Christmas

 

Christmas Eve. A time of peace and calm before the excitement of the Christmas Day celebrations. For making time to sit down and take stock, for checking that everything is ready. A time of anticipation and making wishes, of looking forward and starting a celebration.

Or, if you are the residents of the newly resurrected Much Malarkey Manor, a time for all hands to the decking of the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la laaaaaaa!

The local villagers, hearing the news that Much Malarkey Manor is once again open for business, trudge up the snow-covered hill to help with the moving of furniture, the unpacking of boxes and to take down the enormous Big Top Yurt which, quite frankly, has been a bit of an eyesore for the past year. They also want a bit of a nosey around the new house, and they also know that come lunchtime, Mrs Slocombe will be serving up a lovely leek and potato soup with cheese on toast, and mince pies and cream for pudding.

Mrs Slocombe is in her element in her new kitchen! It is twice the size of the old one, with the addition of a rather nice breakfast room. ‘That’ll stop my kippers getting chilly in the corridor to the dining room,’ she says, approvingly. She has cast aside the instruction manual to the new eight-burner range cooker, too. ‘I can work this using my intuition and with my eyes shut!’ she says. ‘And this middle oven is the perfect size for one hefty roast badger!’

Mrs Pumphrey is busy preparing all the guest bedrooms for those who will be staying over to join them for Christmas Day. Fresh linen, little tea and coffee trays with homemade biscuits, the best in toiletries, fluffy bath towels and scented candles. She did have some bowls of pot pourri but can’t find them anywhere. Tango Pete walks past at some point, carrying a pile of board games for after dinner fun, and makes a comment that the fancy vegetable crisps he found tasted a bit odd and that he wasn’t sure they should smell of flowers either.

Mrs Poo has been out to the Estate woodlands with Kenneth the Phantomime, to cut evergreens for the decorations. Of all the Manor Estate, the hens have taken great comfort during the year that the woodlands have remained a constant place of comfort and familiarity for them.

‘Should we have a Yule log this year?’ says the Phantomime, spotting a likely candidate on the ground where a beech tree has come down during the latest storm.

‘Hmmmmm,’ says Mrs Poo. ‘Perhaps not, eh? But we can pop into the village for some seasoned logs to put in the newly installed log burners.’

‘Much safer than open fires,’ agrees the Phantomime.

‘Is William Shakespeare hanging around for Christmas?’ says Mrs Poo, realising she hasn’t seen him since the previous evening.

The Phantomime shakes his head. ‘No, he’s gone,’ he says. ‘He said that as much as he enjoyed meeting everyone, he doesn’t really belong here. Said something about going to London, to catch up with an old friend in Deptford, and then heading back to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see if things have changed much in the last four hundred years.’

‘Ah,’ says Mrs Poo. ‘Probably for the best, eh?’

As the bright, frosty-blue skies of daytime close in and night-time takes over with her velveteen, star-dotted cloak, a calmness finally settles over the new Much Malarkey Manor. Mrs Miggins has spent some time chatting to the ghosts who are very happy to be settled in their new home and not stuck in the ether. She has invited them to join in the evening celebrations but our new ghosty friends have politely declined having discovered the exciting games room, gym and spa facilities in the west wing.

And so, as the Moon emerges and begins her watch over the turning of Christmas Eve into Christmas Day itself, the Manor curtains are closed, the woodburners are lit and the four lady hens, Bambino, Nell, Ptolemy, Tango Pete and the Phantomime settle around the table in the dining room and enjoy together a lovely supper of many cheeses, many biscuits, many pickles and three varieties of panettone (traditional, chocolate chip, and kipper and mustard) whilst Christmas music plays over the new integral sound system and a Christmas tree twinkles merrily in the window.

Mrs Miggins stands and raises her glass of homemade damson champagne. Everyone around the table falls silent.

‘I should like to raise a toast,’ she says. ‘To both the old and the new. May we remember the past and use it to make the future a better place!’

‘Hear, hear!’ says everyone.

‘It’s been a funny old year,’ says Mrs Slocombe. ‘But we did it, didn’t we? We lived it and we survived, and here we are now, in our new home with goodness knows what waiting for us in the future.’

‘Hear, hear,’ says Mrs Pumphrey. ‘And I have to say that I, for one, won’t miss living in the Big Top Yurt. It was fun whilst it lasted and my tightrope walking skills have come on a treat, but I’m glad to be living in a house that doesn’t require its flaps reinforcing in a high wind.’

Mrs Poo. ‘I shall miss the Big Top a bit,’ she says. ‘I rather enjoyed living the circus life.’

Mrs Miggins coughs. ‘And I’m sorry that we didn’t get to perform your circus-related ideas for our Christmas Story this year,’ she says, smiling sincerely at Mrs Poo. ‘But perhaps this will make up for the disappointment?’

And she hands Mrs Poo a small, flat parcel neatly wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with a gold ribbon.

‘From me to you,’ says Mrs Miggins as Mrs Poo takes the parcel and gives it a shake.

‘Thank you,’ says Mrs Poo. ‘I shall put it under the tree to open tomorrow morning.’

‘Open it now,’ says Mrs Miggins. ‘Go on…’

And Mrs Poo, who never needs encouragement to open a present, tears open the parcel. A huge smile spreads across her beak.

‘It’s the complete DVD box set of the Cirque du Soleil performances!’ she says, excitedly.

‘I think we should go and watch it now, don’t you?’ says Mrs Miggins.

‘Perfect way to end the day, I reckon,’ says Mrs Poo, as the others clap and cheer in agreement.

And that is exactly what they did!

Dear Reader(s) – thank you, once again, for reading along to the Much Malarkey Manor Christmas Story. I hope you enjoyed it. Lord Malarkey, Bambino, Nell and I wish you all the magic of a very merry and a very peaceful Christmas Day. With our love.