Continued from previous page
to be there tae see it,” and in that moment I knew I was going to get everything right. Her unsolicited love melted away all my fears, as it always did, and that was me back on the road to believing in myself again. My Nana was one of those very special people who, without anything having been said or done, could sense stress and worry in the air, and in that moment when all my bravado had deserted me she gave me the most loving hug and, reaching up, whispered gently in my ear“ I love you Peter … and I ´ m here for you son … always …” The next six minutes passed in a flash, I could see and hear all the merriment going on around me, but the only thought I had was returning to the kitchen. I kept a keen my eye on my Nana holding court as only she could, then when she turned and nodded the nod I ´ d been waiting for I immediately made my way to the kitchen. With a beautifully warming calm I picked up the shovel and the muslin bag, turned and walked out of the kitchen and, as if I ´ d become invisible, I silkily made my way down the hall, quietly opened the front door and stepped outside. Outside in the stairway, although I knew the wind that was blowing was a cold one, my adrenalin charged excitement at what was about to happen insulated me well for the task ahead. I carefully got everything out of the muslin bag and one by one placed them onto the shovel. The final job was to pour the Bells whiskey into the glass and just as I did so the first of the twelve bells struck. I felt a slight emotional jolt at this, but kept my mind on what I needed to do as being ready when the twelfth bell chimed was the exact moment I was to knock on my Nana ´ s door and make the First Foot.
…
Eight! … Nine! … Ten! … Eleven! … Twelve! I took the door knocker firmly in my hand and banged it loudly three times, and in a split second heard the sound of voices and footsteps scurrying towards the door …“ Who could it be” I heard many times“ Oor first fit … Who can it be?” then the door opened and everyone stopped in their tracks and shouted as if they ´ d been orchestrated“ It ´ s Peter … oh my god! … It ´ s Peter!” …“ Happy New Year everybody!” I bellowed as I presented my shovel for all to see, a gesture that was followed by dozens and dozens of ´ Happy New Years ´ from everyone inside. The next ten minutes or so were all a bit of a blur as hugs and kisses were exchanged amongst the entire family, and when, beautifully exhausted, I made it to the end of the hall there was my Nana, open armed, smiling that smile that told me I had successfully made the transition from boy to man.
“ First Footing” by Peter Taylor
46