Saturday, 26 December 2009

Christmas Day in the Glo House





Silence.
No t.v. or radio.
Not even a frosted bird sang.
Clad in silver and black I glided from the industrial kitchen to a fairyland front room adding delicate unnecessary touches to the already sweet room.

Then, a little later than planned, Henry and Walter arrived. They were plainly dressed, Henry in sky blue shirt and black trousers Walt in kingfisher blue jumper and black trousers. Tweedledee Tweedledum.

Laying down a big golden bag Henry hugged me whilst Walt grinned, his wide blue eyes widening even more at the fairy lights and chocolates.
And as the bag toppled over we all seemed to talk at once. No-one taking any real notice of what the others were saying. But then the first pot of tea arrived and bums started sinking into chairs, then the tearing began... Ripped paper was dropped willy nilly and poor young Walter was left almost speechless by my little gifts. Henry, thank God, definitely lost the power of speech, as his fingers thumbed his new book of quotes (forward by Stephen Fry) Silence again.

Meanwhile I knew my place. The kitchen.

Big hot plates were soon filled with perfectly roasted meat and tender vegetables, and then, like a fussy hen mum, I placed the plates on the decorated table.
"Angela, this looks sooo gorgeous". said Walt, his warm Zimbabwean tones adding extra succulence to the offerings
From that moment on I mothered him to death.

The joyous gathering was a disparate mix of a sharp-as-knives businessman, a skilled media technician, an artist and the bin man. The lunch banter went well. And with each and every mouthful young Walt groaned, his eyes almost dropping a tear. Henry just ate. He did though compliment me on the cabbage.
"Tender darling" he said. John said very little, he just kept Walt's wine glass topped up. Happily Henry didn't sup much.

And then, as the fairy lights flattered an old bird like me, I tiptoed to the cold empty kitchen to get the Buche Noel..
If it's possible for food to produce feelings tantamount to an orgasm, then my little Buche did it.
As my warm wet knife slid into the cream Walt's head dropped onto the table
"Oh my Angela this is toooo much"
"Oh darling you've surpassed yourself" said Henry.
John just smiled.
And I cut.
They ate in peace.
The cook shone.

By 4 we were playing games. Games like the A to Z of food stuffs, the A to Z of birds and the A to Z of cars...
By the time we got to the G in cars I was thinking of a different game. I knew Henry and John don't do dancing so it was left to me to convince a shy little Walt to get in the groove.
"Ah Ang I can't dance" said the stiff Zim.
"Nonsense" I said stuffily "Get up boy" I think it was the flick of my fingers that convinced the lad to do as the cook wanted.
So as we shuffled to the Jacksons the dark got darker and I got looser. As soon as Gnarls Barclay got into Crazy I forgot I was a homemaker and became a dancer. I'd come home. And by jolly jingo did it feel good.

By the umpteenth record my lipstick had melted and I had more than a ladylike shine on my cheek, I was, in other words, having a ball!
My guests were relaxed, well fed, laughing and very happy and so was I.

As with all good parties we ended up slouching in the kitchen, sandwiches and puffs were offered but it was tea everyone wanted and I'm not surprised because man was it hot in the house. As we slouched we told stories about life and jokes about 'parts' and then it all became a bit sinister because Henry brought up 'ouija boards the other side'.
"Don't even go there Hen" I said
He sweated profuseley, Walt laughed nervously, John stood erect in his own house and brought us all down to earth with information about 'atmospheres' and the 'bottom of the sea'.
But then my jolly side jumped up and my innuendo got out of control, Henry and I bantered like there was no tomorrow.
God we were sharp.

And then I noticed how dark it was outside so I snuffed out my candles and told Hen and Walt they had to go. And so after many hugs and thank yous they disappeared into the dead of night.

I stood in the middle of a tableless noiseless kitchen feeling content.

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