|
|
|
| |
|
|
| A very decent proposal |
By:
Ellie Hunter |
|
The winter had brought with it rain, and with the rain an infinite number of illnesses in the classroom. Each day after work Isabella took her medicines and her pills; just to ensure she stayed on top form for their Christmas holiday to the country. Jacob called her a hypochondriac, she called it sensible. She warned him that if he got ill it would ruin their trip, and with every sniff or cough she thrusted remedies at him anxiously. This was going to be a peaceful getaway to the countryside, and she wasn’t prepared to let his haughtiness ruin their plans.
Monday mornings were always hectic. Isabella dashed about the study trying to find the lesson plan she had formulated the night before whilst Jacob steadily went about his morning routine. After a distinct lack of success trawling through Jacob’s laptop bag she found it tucked neatly behind the bureau and proceeded to gripe about how and why it had ended up there in the first instance. Following this calamity, Isabella grabbed her own bag and set hastily on her way, leaving Jacob to work on the new case he had been assigned. He had been looking forward to one like this-a challenge. Being a solicitor had never been easy, but this would give him more than enough opportunity to demonstrate his judicious side, he thought.
A few streets away, Isabella was trying inanely to teach basic algebra to 10 year olds who were more concerned about quizzing each other on what chocolate shape they all opened in their advent calendar that morning. Outside in the playground, the sun shone brilliantly, the summer offering a memoir of its existence that had past, and so when lunch time lugged round, the children piled through the doors, elated and relishing the first sunny day since September.
That afternoon Jacob spent at the magistrate’s court in the city, preparing his meeting with the defence after the Christmas break. When five O’clock came, and his eyes began to feel heavy in their sockets he concluded his task and headed into the blare of the capital. The underground was claustrophobic with shoppers and workers all competing for a place on the next train home. The 6.01 train for South Kensington was no exception. After many a month of practice, he had become quite accustomed to the business of heaving himself onto already overcrowded trains, so did so without fuss. Once the customary drunk had indolently fallen onto him and he had jolted into everyone else, Jacob arrived at South Kensington.
Isabella greeted him with a childlike hug when he came through the door an hour later, her innocence heightened by the festive mood.
“I see you packed then”. Jacob eyed the mound of bags and parcels in the hallway.
“I thought you would be tired, and I want to make sure everything goes perfectly this time”
“You mean how last time I packed I managed to lose the passports and we had to spend three whole days in the British Embassy?”
“The translator at the hotel thought it was hilarious!”
They both laughed, but Jacob could see Isabella was more apprehensive than amused.
“Don’t worry. We don’t need our passports for this trip” he added assuringly, heaving a bag of decorations through the front door and loading it into the boot of their car. Twenty-minutes of forcing bags, packages, decorations and cases into the car pursued, finishing with Jacob reluctantly tying the tree to the roof of his precious Mondeo. Delighted with the organization of her much awaited trip, she again got Jacob in a tight embrace, her volatile character replaced with an aura of naivety and simplicity that he hardly ever saw. She pulled away and fluttered about the house, dramatically turning off each light and locking each window, as if it were the last time she would ever see their home again.
Jacob waited calmly on their illuminated street. He had never been taken in by the Christmas charade and he felt hypocritical even celebrating it. Nonetheless, the eagerness of Isabella meant that this year, he struggled to quash a small sense of excitement standing amidst the dazzling lights that adorned the homes.
An hour and seventeen Christmas carols later they arrived at Fallowfields Lodge in Oxford. The building was old brick with luxurious gardens evident at the darkest of times. White Christmas lights illuminated the path to the entrance with a discerning and welcoming air, even by Jacobs’s refined standards. Inside a log fire warmed the single storey chalet throughout. The pair returned to the car arm in arm, charmed by the quaintness of their holiday cabin.
“Where has it gone?” Isabella shrieked unexpectedly, running from Jacob’s side and pointing at a rope on the roof of the car, flailing awkwardly in the wind.
“It must have fallen out on one of the country lanes!” Jacob reacted cautiously.
“Let’s go back and look for it then!”
“It’s dark, we won’t have a chance. It’s alright; we can get another one tomorrow”
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve Jake!” She retorted, angry at his naivety. “Where do you propose we get Christmas tree at such later notice?”
“Well I don’t know do I? You are the one in charge of Christmas around here”. Jacob forgot his vigilance and stormed into the lodge, which suddenly seemed more tacky than quaint.
Breakfast was tense the next morning. Isabella had slept in the second bedroom and neither had spoken a word since the outburst.
“Well, I would like to congratulate you on ruining our holiday, yet again” Isabella finally uttered, unable to persist with the silence. Jacob toyed with sharp comebacks but retreated quietly back to his cup of coffee. They ate Christmas Eve breakfast in silence, with no decorations and no Christmas tree to lighten the mood. The wind was blustering fiercely outside and some of the festive lights had been propelled off their fittings in the night. Isabella looked pensively out of the window and disappointment overwhelmed her as she thought of the Christmas it should have been.
“We’ve still got the turkey, and the presents” Jacob beamed from behind his glasses. The silence was exhausting and he knew he was the only one who could possibly break it.
“Do you think we could try and decorate one of those evergreens in the garden?” Isabella replied delicately
“Oh definitely”. Restored to her former frivolous manner, Isabella waited for the wind to calm before carrying an armful of coloured, glittering decorations outside, that looked more like they belonged to a school child than a grown woman. Jacob fingered the small box in his jacket pocket, smiling to himself as he watched her from the window.
Due to the stresses of that day, Jacob had taken it upon himself to cook the dinner than evening. He laid the table with silver cutlery, embellishing it with unique napkin designs and beautiful decorations. A bottle of viognier was left to chill as he called her through to the dining room. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion, much to the disappointment of him, and he hadn’t saved the best cutlery until tomorrow, much to the irritation of her, yet she was flattered all the same. They drank wine and talked about the annoyingly content couple down the road whilst radio 2 played the best in Christmas classics. The box in his pocket was growing increasingly heavy as the night progressed.
“So shall we exchange our gifts now?” Isabella enquired, her enthusiasm never received better by Jacob than then.
“Alright”. She offered him a superbly wrapped rectangular shaped box. Jacob was too nervous about his own gift to bear any excitement for what she had presented him with. Still, he unwrapped it as slowly as his trepidation would allow him. He gasped half for show as he held the leather notebook in his hands. It was an A4, black notebook with a genuine leather cover that smelt luxuriously new. Once Jacob was convinced she was satisfied by his melodramatic thank you, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the small blue box. Isabella’s eyes grew wide with pleasure as he placed the glimmering jewel on her finger.
Outside the wind flared up again, sending the tinsel sailing off the tree and out of sight. The lavish dinner smelt richer than ever in the warmth of the kitchen where it began to burn, sending smoke through the house. A window flew open in the violent wind. Isabella laughed light-heartedly.
“The only thing that could make this Christmas better would be snow”. Outside, the skies tore open and the rain poured down harder than it had ever done before. |
|
|
| |
|
|
|
Home | Contest | Write A Book | Write Ebooks For Cash | Be A Travel Writer | Write Children's Books
Write For Newspapers |
Write An Ezine | Write A Blog | Writing Skills & Tips | Novel Writing Software
|
