The Ghost of Christmas Present(s)

Josiah Oakshott watched the shadows dance around his living room, generated by the flickering flames of the wood-burning stove.  The room was filled with the insistent tick of the ancient mantlepiece clock, measuring out the long, dark hours of the evening.

To his left, on the coffee table, was a half-drunk cup of tea, now too cold to contemplate, and a tea plate containing an equally neglected mince pie.  To his right, on the arm of his chair, was the rather worthy, and for that reason, unopened book with which he had promised himself he would make inroads today. 

He felt out of sorts.  There was no other reasonable phrase that could capture his current mood, ‘out of sorts’ was what he was.

It didn’t help to try to rationally dispel this fugue.  His Christmas had never been the mad social whirl depicted on television and which, he imagined, was enjoyed by most of his friends and employees.  More often than not, it would consist of him sitting here, in this room, after having consumed a reasonably hearty (at least by his standards) but solo Christmas Dinner, enjoying the peace, quiet and comfort of his own home. 

Usually, this was more than adequate.  The fact that he could not, under the current Covid restrictions, have enjoyed a heady social round of visits and parties, even if he had wanted to, was, he strongly suspected, partly the real reason for his poor humour.  Although there might, he conceded, have been a little more to it than that.

He was just debating whether it was really too early to contemplate going to bed, when a loud knock on the front door made him jump out of his seat.  He made his way cautiously down the dimly-lit, and rather chilly, Victorian-era hallway, with its elaborately tiled floor.  He hoped against hope that it would not be a prospective client, in need of a late-night collection of the dear departed. 

One of the drawbacks of living amongst the community you served was that you were considered to be permanently on duty and so, to a certain extent, you were.  It was therefore with some surprise and, unusually for him, delight that he found Archibald Thurble, normally the bane of his existence, standing at the foot of the three stone stairs that led up to Josiah’s doorway.

“Archibald!  Fancy seeing you here!” Josiah exclaimed and then, with a suspicion born of long and bitter experience, “there’s nothing wrong, is there?”

“No, no Mr. O.  I erm…” Archibald tugged at his coat and furrowed his brow, “I was at a loose end, to be honest, and I thought you could, perhaps, do with a bit of company?”

“Well, that is kind of you, Archibald.  I was just contemplating how to spend the remainder of this festive evening.  Please, do come in”

“Is that alright, Mr. O.?  Only I’ve lost the plot with what you can and can’t do on account of how it changes so much!” More coat tugging and brow furrowing.

“I share your state of confusion, Archibald, but, as we mix freely in our workplace, I feel it will not hugely increase our risk of infection if we chance a brief, albeit somewhat distanced, social interaction”

“Eh?” Archibald looked troubled.

“By which I mean, I think we can take the chance” Josiah confirmed.

“I don’t mean to interrupt” Archibald explained, as he plodded down the hallway, leaving, Josiah noted with a sinking heart, a trail of muddy footprints marking his progress.

“I can assure you, Archibald, that you are not interrupting anything at all.  Please, go in and make yourself comfortable” Josiah ushered Archibald into the living room.

“I just thought you might have that Ms. Knight round, like?”  Archibald mused, pointedly.

“Ah no, regrettably not.  Samantha…Ms. Knight, has aged parents to whom she is, naturally, devoted.  She did not wish to risk their health, by mixing with others outside of the social bubble she shares with her parents.”  Josiah explained, glumly.

“Bit like me and Electra” Archibald agreed, plonking himself down on the armchair on the opposite side of the fire from Josiah’s.

“Have you not seen your fiancée today, Archibald?”

“Well, not much.  I popped ‘round there after dinner and had a chat on her doorstep, sort of thing, but she wouldn’t let me in on account of her Mam having a chest condition.  Plus, she’s studying for her qualifications, so she doesn’t have much spare time” Archibald explained.

“Ah yes, Ezekiel Cadwallader told me she was studying for her Certificate in Funeral Service.  Most gratifying to see young people willing to study and work hard to get on in the profession.”  Josiah commented, also pointedly.

“Well, yeah, I suppose.” Archibald conceded, “only, I hardly ever get to see her these days!  If I hadn’t gone to pick up that spare car the other day, I wouldn’t have seen her at all before Christmas!”

Josiah mentally patted himself on the back for, at the very least, engineering that little liaison, even if he felt rather guilty about Electra being employed at Cadwallader and Carruthers and not, as Archibald had hoped, at Oakshott and Underwood.

“But where are my manners!  I would be failing in my duty as a host if I didn’t ask you what you would like to drink?”

“Oh, thanks Mr. O.  I could go a beer if you’ve got one” Archibald announced, cheerfully.

“Ah, there you have me at a disadvantage, Archibald.  I fear that, as I rarely entertain at Christmas or, indeed, any other time, I have only a limited range of refreshments available within which beer, of any description, is not included.  Could I perhaps tempt you to a spirit, how about a brandy?”

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks.  Can I have mine with Coke?”

Josiah shuddered visibly at the notion.

“Again, Archibald you have found a gap in my limited drinks cupboard.  Coke have I none.  However, I could proffer soda?”

“What’s that when it’s at home, then?” Archibald asked, suspiciously.

“I think the best description would be that it is Coke without the Coke bit.  Consider it to be Invisible Coke, if you will” Josiah congratulated himself on coming up with that description.

“That’ll do for me, then” Archibald beamed.

Drinks poured, the two settled back in their armchairs and contemplated the glow of the fire.

“Did you get much nice for Christmas, Mr. O.?” Archibald enquired, eventually.

“I cannot, in all honesty, say that I have been inundated with gifts, Archibald.  But that is by no means unusual and, in my opinion, is no bad thing.  Christmas can become considerably over-commercialised and materialistic”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to get a present or two, innit?”

“Well, yes, I would agree, although I have a somewhat ambivalent attitude toward Christmas gifts, in all honesty.”

“How do you mean, Mr. O.?”

“Well, you see, and this is going to sound inordinately ungrateful, but I fear that Christmas Presents per se are almost bound to disappoint.  In my view, they are at their best when unopened” Josiah expounded.

“Come again?” Archibald frowned.

“It’s like this, Archibald.  On Christmas morning, the gaily wrapped presents are all there under the tree…”

“Mine are in a pillowcase” Archibald interjected.

“Are they really?  Well, each to his own.  Nevertheless, wherever they are situated, there they sit, wrapped and mysterious.  Now, at this point, they could be anything, couldn’t they?”

“Well, yeah, within reason I suppose” Archibald conceded.

“Indeed, it would be unlikely that a Lamborghini, for instance, had been wrapped and placed in your pillowcase but the keys to one could have been”

“Oh wow, that would be fantastic, wouldn’t it” Archibald grinned at the thought.

“Indeed, it would.  Moreover, it would be entirely possible, until the moment you unwrap the present” Josiah sat back and looked terribly pleased with himself.

“You what?”

“I mean, that all Christmas Presents have the potential to be anything, anything at all, whatever your heart desires, until the point when you open them.  A bit like Schrödinger’s Cat”

“Why, did he come wrapped up on Christmas Day then?”

“No, no, I was referring to the famous thought experiment of Erwin Schrödinger.  However, perhaps that was a bridge too far.  Suffice to say, that a present could, in all possibility, be anything at all until the moment you open it, when it becomes all too clear that it is…”

“Slippers” Archibald suggested, grimly.

“Indeed, or a nice scarf” Josiah nodded.

“Socks!” Archibald continued, “or, worst of all, one of those bloody sets with all of them deodorants and stuff in them.  Smell like nothing on Earth and there’s always summat in there that you’ll never use in a reign of pig’s pudding, no matter how desperate you are”

“Succinctly, if rather obscurely, put, Archibald, and to the point.  I fear that, each year, there are presents given that are doomed to spend the rest of their existence being donated to tombola stalls, only to be won by someone who wanted it even less than the original recipient and whose only aim is to foist it upon someone else”

“Then there’s them things what they sell as Gifts for Christmas.  How come you never see them any other time of the year?”  Archibald said, warming to his theme.

“Ah yes, you mean those novelties that no sane person would ever buy for themselves” Josiah nodded.

“Yeah, stuff like a musical backscratcher.  Me Nan had one of them one Christmas.  It nearly drove us mad until we managed to sneak it off her on Boxing Day”

“I do sympathise, Archibald.  One year, I was given, by an entirely well-meaning relative, a miniature desk-top golf set.  One wonders at the mentality that thought that would be a good idea, both from the point of view of the giver and the manufacturer” Josiah sighed.  “Can I tempt you to a refill, Archibald?”

Josiah had noted that his guest had been hopefully cradling an empty glass for some time now.

“Oh, go on then” Archibald beamed, “I rate that Invisible Coke stuff.  Works well with brandy, dunnit?”

“That has indeed been noted by others, Archibald” Josiah collected the glasses and busied himself at the drinks’ cabinet.

“I blame the telly, you know” Archibald stated, once armed with a fresh glass of brandy and soda.

“In what way?”

“Well, they set you up to expect all sorts and it never, ever works out like that.  F’rinstance, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never sat down to a Christmas Dinner with a table what looks like they do on the telly.  You know, with a full roasted turkey and all them bowls of veg and stuff what you’d never eat any other time!”

“Ah yes, I do know what you mean.  I too have never shared such a repast” Josiah agreed.

“Have you seen that telly advert for that electrical shop, you know, the one that sounds like an Indian takeaway?”

“Indian takeaway?” Josiah mused, “Oh, yes, I see what you mean!  No, I rarely watch the television and, on those occasions when I do, it invariably does not involve a commercial channel”

“Yeah, well, in this ad it turns out that, instead of going from site to site trying to find everything your family wants, you should buy it all from this electrical place”

“I suspect you would have to of a very generous nature to do such a thing.  It would be a somewhat expensive undertaking, if you’ll excuse the pun” Josiah smirked.

“Eh?  Oh, yeah.  Very good” Archibald responded, unconvincingly, “any road, they’re all unwrapping these brilliant presents but, and this is what gets me, there’s one bloke and when he rips the corner of the wrapping paper off, guess what he’s got?”

“I have no idea, Archibald”

“Only a ruddy OLED TV!  They cost a bomb, they do.  Plus they’re huge, ‘cause everyone wants them big enough to watch films on and stuff.”

“I’m not sure I entirely comprehend your point, Archibald” Josiah looked puzzled.

“Well, you’d hardly buy one of them on spec. would you?  I mean, you’re not going to think, ‘Ooh, I know what I can get our Cecil, one of them OLED TVs at a couple of grand a pop’.  I mean, you either want one of them, and know you’re going to get one, or you don’t.  Plus, if that was sitting under your tree, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise would it? For a starters, it would take up half of your living room!”

“Yes, I take your point.  However, I fear we are, perhaps, being somewhat over-critical.  In a world that tolerates flying snowmen and talking carrots, I suppose someone receiving a surprise gift of a giant TV is not so out of the ordinary?”  Josiah suggested.

“Well, it gets my goat” Archibald grumped.

Josiah smiled and swirled his brandy, reflectively. He rather suspected that there were more things than giant TVs that were affecting Archibald’s livestock.

The ticking of the clock filled the ensuing silence.

“What did you get Ms. Knight for Christmas then, Mr. O.?”  Archibald asked, eventually.

“Well, despite the fact that she is not an employee as such but rather a self-employed consultant, I did however elect to give her the standard Oakshott and Underwood Christmas Gift”

“What, you mean the bottle of British Sherry?” Archibald looked surprised.

“Indeed, as has been traditional since my father’s time” Josiah confirmed.

“And that’s all?”

“Well, yes.” Josiah nodded, “as a fellow employee, I rather thought you would approve.  It is, after all, only fair that everyone is treated equally”

“Yeah, but, strewth!  A bottle of British Sherry!”  Archibald shook his head, disbelievingly, “it’s no wonder you didn’t get an invite round to her house, is it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Archibald” Josiah huffed.

“Oh, come on Mr. O.  You’re not telling me that Ms. Knight’s not a bit more to you than just another employee?  You can’t just give her a bottle of British Sherry and expect her to look chuffed about it!”

“As it happens, I did have another, more personal, gift to give her, had our paths crossed over the festive season” Josiah admitted, blushing slightly.

“Not a ring, is it?” Archibald asked, excitedly.

“No, it most certainly is not a ring!  It is, in fact, a chain and pendant I had made up a little while ago by a jeweller of my acquaintance”

“Well, if I were you, I’d get myself ‘round there sharpish and make sure she’s got it before the day’s out, if you know what’s good for you” Archibald stated, emphatically.

“I will give your advice careful consideration, Archibald” Josiah smiled, “and how about you, what did you purchase for your Electra?”

“Oh, well, like you said, she’s studying for her qualifications, so I got her a nice briefcase to keep her books and papers in and that”

“Very thoughtful and practical, Archibald, well done” Josiah nodded, “and what did you receive?”

Archibald shuffled in his seat and spent some time studying the drink in his hand, before he eventually replied,

“I got a Men’s Toiletries Gift Set” He admitted, sullenly.

“Ah!” Josiah responded, bereft of anything else to say.

“It’s called ‘Dover’” Archibald said, glumly.

“Dover?”

“Yeah, it reckons it’s the fragrance of the exotic.  Could have been worse, I suppose”

“In what precise way could it have been worse?”

“Well, it could have been called ‘Ramsgate’”

“You make a valid point.  And is it?  Exotic, that is”

“I dunno.  Our cat took one sniff and shot up the Christmas Tree.  We’ve tried all sorts but it won’t come down” Archibald commented, moodily, “it keeps hissing at us and climbing further up”

“The act of giving and receiving can be a treacherous area, Archibald, as I think we established in our earlier discussions.” Josiah pointed out.  “Can I get you another drink?”

“No thanks, Mr. O.  I’d better be getting along.”

The two men headed back to the front door.

“Thank you for coming to visit, Archibald.  I’ve found it most entertaining” Josiah said, as Archibald climbed down the stone stairs to the pavement.

“Yeah, me an’ all” Archibald grinned and set off, before stopping and turning back, “look, will you do me a favour?”

“If it is within my power, yes, of course” Josiah replied, filled with the spirit of Christmas.

“Will you get yourself round to Ms. Knight’s and give her that pendant thingy?  Only, I reckon if you miss this chance, you might not get another one, and that would be a shame” Archibald looked up at Josiah with slightly moist eyes.

“You’re a good person, Archibald.  Yes, I promise I’ll take your advice.  Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. O.”

“And good luck with the cat!”

“No problem, Mr. O.  Makes a change from a fairy if nowt else!” Archibald grinned as plodded off along the wet pavement, filled with brandy, Invisible Coke and the feeling of a job well done.

Merry Christmas!