Warm Wishes
A.P. Gilbert
“It’s Christmas,” Andy whispered
to his brother, Philip. It was still early
and Andy’s bleary eyes tried hard to
focus as he looked with happy
anticipation at the five year old sitting up
in the bed opposite his own.
“Do you think he has been?”
“Of course he’s been!” Andy smiled
at his brother, who was four years his
junior; he was so naïve it was funny.
“Father Christmas comes every year.”
“Can we go downstairs then?”
“Okay, but we’ve got to be quiet,
Mummy and Daddy might not be awake
yet.”
“Okay.”
Philip and Andy slowly pulled back
the covers of their beds and stepped
softly onto the carpeted floor of the
bedroom they shared. By now, both of
their eyes had become accustomed to the
poor light and they crept to the door,
being careful to avoid the toys that they
had left on the floor the day before.
Philip bent before they reached the door
and picked up his favourite bear, Bob
Bear, and held it by the paw.
“I’m cold,” Philip said, a little too
loudly.
Andy put his finger to his lips and
made a shushing sound which sounded
louder than Philips small voice. “Put
your dressing gown on then.”
Andy took Philips’ Spiderman dressing gown from
the hook on the wall and passed it over to his brother
before putting his own blue one on. They tiptoed to the
door and Andy opened it, being careful not to pull too
quickly for fear that the bell decoration that hung on the
handle would ring. It didn’t and they walked out to the hall
and to the top of the stairs. Looking down, Philip saw that
the lights that had been wrapped carefully around the tree
still twinkled, sending coloured flashes of red and green
onto the wall of the stairway. They began to creep down.
There was a breeze coming from somewhere that brushed
bare ankles beneath their gowns as they reached the middle
of the stairs. The brothers were both too excited to pay
much mind to it but Andy did find himself pulling his
dressing gown tighter around his small frame.
The two brothers reached the foot of the stairs and
Philip grabbed Andy’s hand in excitement at the sight of
the treats that had been deposited beneath the tree. Boxes
and packages of all shapes and sizes surrounded it, all
wrapped in bright coloured paper and shiny ribbons. The
fireplace behind the tree still held glowing embers from the
night before and four fur rimmed red stockings hung from
the mantelpiece above. The stockings were packed full of
gifts, nearly spilling over onto the hearth beneath. On top
of the mantelpiece, Andy saw, was the plate of cookies and
the glass of whisky; half eaten and fully drunk; that he and
Philip had left out for Father Christmas the night before.
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