Let it snow, let it snow ...

A seasonal story by Aoife Burke GLOWERING at the television screen in front of him, and crushing his third beer can in his hand, Daniel closed his eyes and took in a deep, anguished breath. 'Tough break, Dan,' the bulk to his left sighed. 'Call of Duty is a game of skill, my friend, and it seems you just haven't got it.' A large belch followed this infuriating assertion, and Daniel's housemate made to move out of his seat, thought better of it, and cracked open another Dutch Gold, the six-pack of which was already four short and sitting snugly between his chair and a hastily packed overnight bag . 'Another one for the road won't do any harm,' he said, changing the channel to a festive edition of Family Fortunes. Daniel surveyed the room. Charles was again making himself comfortable, twisting and turning like a dog in its basket, in the best seat in the room beside the portable heater and closest to the TV. A hefty man, he appeared to consume the modest chair he was seated in, the pink goose-bumped belly protruding from his ironic t-shirt emblazoned with 'Stud' endeavouring to make Daniel feel even colder and grumpier than he already was. To his right, beside the bay window which due to its age and consequent weathering always remained slightly ajar, was the only Christmas decoration in the room. It had seemed hilarious a few days ago to dress the tree in beer cans and having its crowning glory be a picture of newly elected Michael D. cut out from a newspaper with a halved beer mat on either side to represent angel wings. Hilarious too, to attach fairy lights crudely to the wall in a tangled mess, encircling the novelty advent calendar they had found in a pound shop and modified by cartoons of their friends in place of the nativity scene. Hilarious indeed, until he discovered that he would be working on St. Stephen's Day and wouldn't make it home for Christmas. Having moved to Dublin from the west the previous September in a vain attempt to better his chances of a job by embarking on a Masters in Obscure American Literature of the Beat Generation, Daniel had taken a part-time job in an internet café. Bucking the trend in recession Ireland, it was doing a roaring trade by exploiting the fact that people couldn't afford, or couldn't be bothered, to sign up to an internet provider at home. It was run by himself and the owner, and he took in a nice bit of money each week to supplement his college fees and general living expenses, but the downside was that the owner had the freedom to have him take care of the holiday shift. He would at least be able to have a lengthy Skype session with his family, but returning to the brown-hued flat that evening, having spent Christmas Day there all alone, would be distinctly depressing. 'What time is it mate, I probably shouldn't miss the last Dart to Dalkey, the â€Ëœrents would go ape,' yawned Charles, not waiting for an answer while he turned his head back to the screen and readjusted his seating arrangement, swinging a surprisingly deft leg onto the arm. 'It's only nearly eight, you've loads of time,' replied Daniel to deaf ears, and he rolled his eyes while walking to the fridge, located in the tiny kitchenette off the living room, to survey its contents. Might as well be as miserable as miserable can be, he had thought as he did his shopping that day, stocking up only on beer, a couple of bottles of wine and a 'home cooked' turkey meal for one. There was a package sent by his distraught mother and sisters with his present and some biscuits and chocolate too, but he was intent on the day being as glum as possible. True, he was getting home the following week for New Year, but it just wasn't the same. 'Maybe this experience will add gravitas to my thesis, it's sure to expose me to real feelings of hardship,' he mused to Charles from the glow of the refrigerator. 'Yeah, I know, exactly, yup, totally,' replied Charles, who had been listening to Daniel complain for days now and, being all set to head home himself, was neither inclined to add weight to the argument nor engage with it in any way. He was too busy now watching The Snowman anyway, with the sound-track of Mission: Impossible playing instead of the original background music. Breaking the spell of the melancholic/inattentive mood, a flood of light and glacial air entered through the front door accompanied to the tune of several 'Oh My God!'s and a whirlwind of shopping bags, blonde hair and a strange combination of several different kinds of perfume. 'Seriously, it's just MAYhem out there, complete MADness! You'd think EVERYone in the entire country was doing their last-minute shopping in BT's today. After gussying up a few old LAdies for the evening on my BENefit stand I just couldn't STICK it any more and left a few presents till I get to the duty-free. I tried on LOADS of different perfumes for my sisters and can just pick them up there. I'm SO excited to be going home! Just a few more hours to Midnight MASS, singing beside the CHRISTmas tree, opening the first batch of PRESsies...!' with a contented sigh Marie, the third and final member of the household, collapsed onto the arm of Daniel's chair, to which he had returned in the midst of her monologue. Beaming around the room, the brightness of her smile dimming only when her eyes rested on the ever increasing mountain of cans and chocolate wrappers, and shuddering slightly when she took in the tree, she deftly removed two packages from one of the many bags now surrounding her. 'Merry Christmas, guys!' I thought since we're all going home for Crimbo â€â€ oops! SORry Danny! â€â€ that we could exchange gifts now!' When nothing was produced by the other two, who at least had the wherewithal to mutter 'I thought we had decided not to get each other anything this year, no..?' and shift uncomfortably in their seats, Marie soldiered on undeterred and handed them each an expertly wrapped gift. Charles was the first to unwrap his fully, revealing a mini recycling bin. 'So, you can put it by your chair and put your empties in, so they don't all pile up like they are now!' exclaimed Marie, as Daniel uncovered his; an ashtray with a picture of diseased lungs gracing the bottom. 'Well, you're always saying you want to give up, I thought this would be PERfect to help you on your journey,' she said, patting his arm encouragingly. 'Cheers Marie, that's awesome, really appreciate it, should come in totally handily,' Charles said while turning back to the TV and placing his new bin in front of him to prop up his legs. Daniel managed a 'Yeah, thanks' and a faint, forced smile. 'Well, glad you like them boys! There's nothing better than a useful present! I know I was deLIGHTed when Dad got me that car for my b-day in October; pity there's no parking here so it's at home gathering dust. Still, I get to take it out for a spin when I get back! That is, if it's not too icy, it's SNOWing out there now, but I'd say it's not so bad back in Kerry. K, gotta go pack all this away now, hope they don't charge me TOO much for excess baggage, I dunno, do they DO that for internal flights? But I just COULDn't resist all these cute little things for my niece and nephew'. In a flurry of bags and continued mutterings Marie flounced to her room to get ready to be picked up by her cab. Fifteen minutes later she re-emerged with her phone to her ear saying 'No probs, I'll be down in TWO seconds' and mouthed a 'bye!' to her housemates as she exited the main door. Daniel went to the window to wave, but was startled when he pulled the curtains and could see only a steady downpour of thick snow. 'It's a white one Charles, and it's really coming down. Maybe you should go now just in case there's a problem with the train later,' he ventured. Charles, without tearing his eyes from the screen replied 'Really? Nice one! Always wanted a white Christmas, hope it lasts until New Year and the gig will be totally atmospheric.' His band, a comedy-indie-rock outfit which consisted of two other members on keyboard and guitar, with him making up the group as front-man and tambourinist, were surprisingly starting to make an impression on the scene and were booked solidly for the first few weeks of January, having impressed with Christmas parties over the last month or two. However lethargic and lazy Charles seemed, he always seemed to land on his feet with very little effort, often to Daniel's chagrin. The evening continued in much the same way, watching Christmas editions of familiar programmes, occasionally getting perverse pleasure from seeing celebrities humiliate themselves in the name of family entertainment, sharing a laugh or two at the odd good joke. It was coming up to eleven when Charles announced he was off, remembering that his parents would soon be back from their first round of visits to their many relatives in the area, and would expect him home when they got back. He gathered up his bag, which had seen much better days, saluted Daniel at the door and was gone. 'That's that then,' Daniel thought, surveying his sorry surroundings. 'Happy Christmas to me and to you, Mr President,' he toasted the tree with a beer. It was around an hour later that he decided to go to bed. He contemplated having a cigarette but changed his mind after remembering his present from Marie. As he was about to turn off the lights he thought he heard hurried footsteps ascend the staircase outside, and a sob being muffled outside the door. Curious, he peered through the peephole and was astonished to see a dishevelled Marie trying to contain her tears whilst searching her purse for her keys. He opened the door and she fell inside. 'Oh my GOD Daniel!' she explained, and dramatically flung herself on the nearest chair. 'It's the WORST, just the WORST!' A few minutes passed in which she explained, howling with indignation, that the snow had become so bad that the plane to Tralee had been cancelled. '... and they made us wait for HOURS, giving us HOPE, and then this BOMBshell was dropped. Of course my mother is simply disTRAUGHT and my sister is already planning legal action. ApPARently I'll be able to get the first flight out on Stephen's Day, and my family is postponing EVERYthing until then, but STILL! I'm stuck HERE. With YOU!' Marie again descended into uncontrollable blubbering, and Daniel determined that the best call of action was to take her a large glass of the red wine he had been saving for the next day. 'It won't be so bad, look, we have a tree, let's sing a carol now, that's what you usually do on Christmas Eve isn't it?' Marie took a tentative sip of her wine, then another larger gulp and nodded a brave nod. 'We...we could sing Deck the Halls? It's my favourite'. A tuneless, and largely wordless rendition of the song ensued, followed by some more and ending with a hearty version of Let it Snow. Marie had finally stopped crying and was beginning to enjoy herself, moved by the effort Daniel was making. Daniel was secretly pleased that she had come back to keep him company, even if she didn't always say the right things and had that annoying habit of over-emphasising certain syllables. They brought things up a notch and opened the bottle of Baileys that Daniel found in Charles's room, and were just about to embark on a game of Pictionary that Marie had originally intended to bring home as a family gift, when a tremendous clatter sounded from the bathroom. Exchanging concerned glances, but feeling emboldened as a result of the alcohol, Marie let Daniel lead the way down the hall towards the room. The bulb had long gone and not been replaced, so when Daniel swung the door open all that was revealed was the bulky silhouette of what appeared to be a man with a sizeable sack on his bag extending his left leg through the window. Marie shrieked, Daniel stood stock still and the figure, startled, tumbled the rest of the way in, landing in a heap and scattering the contents of his bag all over the floor. 'What the..?' the figure exclaimed, revealing himself to be none other than Charles. 'Charles! WHY on EARTH didn't you use the DOOR like a NORMAL person?' 'Because our chimney's all boarded up maybe, heh-heh. No but really, can you guys give me a little space so I can gather myself together?' The two stepped back into the hallway and Charles heaved himself to his feet with some effort, kicking the over-spilled bits and pieces from his bag after them. They all made their way back to the living room and Charles took his usual seat after gratefully receiving a Bailey's coffee from Marie. It transpired that he had indeed missed the last Dart and following a vain attempt to hail a taxi in what now could be described as a blizzard, he made his way back to the flat. He had lost his keys in the process and concluded that the best way to enter was to climb up the fire escape. 'But why didn't you ring my phone? Or the buzzer?' asked Daniel. 'I thought you might be asleep and didn't want to wake you up. And that you might get a nice treat when you discovered you wouldn't be alone for Christmas!' grinned Charles. Daniel was both incredulous and touched. Charles slurped his coffee with satisfaction, Marie went to set up Pictionary and Daniel found himself feeling better by the second. The next morning the trio woke up to the sound of Cathedral bells and slight hangovers. Daniel rustled them all up a breakfast of cornflakes and tea and they sat around feeling what could only be described as Christmas cheer. Later that afternoon Charles was collected by his parents in time for the next round of visits and his slap up turkey dinner. Marie and Daniel made the most of the frozen meal for one he had bought but gorged themselves on the chocolate and biscuits from his care package. After calling their respective homes they both fell into satisfied snoozes in front of the variety of festive movies that were on air, and stayed that way, contented in sleep until Marie's alarm alerted her at 3am that it was time to get going for her flight. 'I feel sorry leaving you now, will you be ok on your own? I could stay!' she volunteered. Daniel assured her that he would be fine, and made sure she got to her taxi safely. Before shutting the door Marie remarked 'You know, I had a really nice day' and tentatively kissed Daniel on the cheek. Hiding a blush, he admitted that he had too, and after waving her off he returned inside from the chilly night and went happily to bed. His shift at the internet café started at 8am, and he was there with a spring in his step. As he had anticipated, there were few customers throughout the day, and his boss called at about noon to say he could close up early. At this point it was about time to video call his family. He spoke first to his mother, who was tearing up at the thought of her only son being stuck on his own for Christmas. He smiled, shook his head and began 'Actually, Mum, it wasn't that bad...'