A Night To Remember: A Christmas Eve short story, by Shifnal author Eddie Main

Eddie Main

“Final destination, hundred yards, turn left”, the disembodied voice from the dashboard intoned. Paul nodded, ‘You have brought here so far, so good” he said to himself.

Here he was on Christmas Eve, 2011, the very first one he had ever spent away from home, he had always spent Christmas with his parents, but they had died earlier in the year, within months of each other. An old pal from university, Mark Dawson, with whom he had shared a flat and had spent many holidays with him, immediately invited him to stay with him at his parent’s home for Christmas, Paul had jumped at the chance. He had met Mr and Mrs Dawson and their daughter Janet many times at university functions but had not actually visited their home.

He glanced at the clock, it was just seven o’clock, not too bad, he thought, he had done over a hundred miles and now snow flurries were appearing in his headlights, also the traffic had not been as bad as he had expected.

Complying with the sat-nav’s instructions, he slowed down and saw the entrance to a large house and on a surrounding small wall, the car’s headlights picked out the name, Lancaster House. As he drove into the large frontage of the house, a security light came on over the front door which then opened and a figure loomed in the doorway, it was Mark and behind him stood Ted and Mary Dawson, his parents and Janet, his sister, was by their side, they all waved.

Paul brought the car outside the front doorway, he got out and stretched out his arms to them.

“Hi, everybody”, he cried, “thanks for inviting me, you’ve made me very happy”.

The Dawson family all crowded towards him. “We all pleased to see you Paul, Ted Dawson said, “you know you’ve always been welcome to our home, it’s taken a long time in coming, though, hasn’t it?”, he laughed.

Mark came forward, “Here let me help you with your cases”, he said.

Together they got all of the cases off the car but there was one item that Paul took hold of and he went to Mrs Dawson and presented her with it. “I think it’s better you have it now”, he smiled at her, “I wouldn’t want it damaged by tomorrow”.

“Thank you, Paul”, she said, and opened the top of the package to reveal a large Poinsettia house plant. “Oh my word, that’s lovely, Paul, thank you very much, this is my favourite Christmas plant, I love them”.

“Let’s all get in the house” Ted Dawson said, “it’s chilly out here”.

“In return for the Poinsettia, Paul, I’ve cooked you a special fish pie”, Mary said. “You must be starving after all that travel. Come on, you all go into the lounge and I’ll start preparing the dining room”.

Paul noticed Janet and gave her a broad smile. “And how are you, Janet? Mark asked her, “still be the best PR that ever was?”

“I’m alright, thanks, Paul, nice to see you again” Janet replied with a smile. “And why aren’t you out tonight, Christmas Eve and all that”, he asked. “I’m going to a big party tomorrow night, so I’m going to have a pretty quiet night here”, she laughed and putting her arm through his and they went into the lounge.

First thing Paul noticed how big it was, two recessed bay windows and a large inglenook fireplace with a very big imitation log fire, it was very realistic, the whole room was tastefully done out with festive holly and Christmas cards. A tall Christmas tree stood to the left on the fireplace and was laden with fairy lights and highly decorative little parcels.

“Sit down, Paul”, Ted said, “now what are you going to have to drink before our meal?”

“Dad, I don’t think that we should have anything, there’s plenty of wine on the table”, Mark said, coming in from the dining room. “It’s all ready now, so come on in and then you can choose your wine”.

They all trooped into the ding room and again Paul notice how big it was, a large dining table with six chairs position at the one end of the table which would have taken another six chairs.

Mary came in with a tray of plates which she dished out to everyone, “I’ve given the butler the night off tonight”, she laughed

“Oh, good”, Ted cried out, and turning to Paul, “that must mean me, no washing up, then”, to which they all laughed.
Mary came back in with a large tray on which was a very big dish, the fish pie. “Father, you can bring the wine in now, she smiled, “it’s not quite the butlers night off”.

They settled down to eat and drink amid a lot of cheery banter between Mark and Janet. Ted helped Mary to clear the table and went into the kitchen with her.

“You can all go back to the lounge now, you youngsters and sort yourselves out what to watch on the telly”, Ted called back to them.

Janet, Mark and Paul made their way to the lounge and they flopped down in to various armchairs. “Leave the settee to the old ‘uns”, laughed Mark.

Eventually they were all seated and watching a comedy programme on the television, all had a drink in their hands. Mark and Paul were on whisky, Janet on Bacardi and coke, Ted was on malt whisky and Mary had made herself a cup of coffee.

Ted got up and turned the television off. “That’s enough of that”. He turned to Paul. “How’s life with you, Paul. Still looking forward to getting a partnership in the near future?” Paul was a solicitor in a small but busy practice in Shrewsbury.

Paul told them about how the business was going and soon Paul, Mark, who was also a solicitor, and Ted, a retired solicitor was all talking shop.

“Well, I’m off to bed,” Mary said, “see you all in the morning, Good night”. “I’m off, too”, Janet got up and followed her mother, “good night”.

“I think we had all better retire”, said Ted with a smile.

With that they all rose and Mark switched off the lights and they made their way to their respective bedrooms. Paul’s room was at the end of the upstairs landing, he entered and after a visit to the en-suite bathroom, he was soon in bed. He’s had a couple of whiskies but no more than usual, he looked at his watch, it had just turned eleven, he switched the bedside light off and soon he was fast asleep.

It was the sound of laughter and loud talking that awoke him, he rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch, it was a quarter to twelve. But that noise, where was it coming from. He got up and went to the window and looked out through the curtains, no one about, it seemed even quieter with the falling snow. Still the noise continues, it seemed happy enough, he decided to see where it was coming from. He put on his dressing gown and went into the landing and slowly went down the stairs.

There was no one else about, strange, he thought, this noise should have woken everybody. He went to the dining room door and opened it. He stood back, aghast, it was full of young men, fresh faced, some were even baby faced, all in RAF uniform with aircrew insignia, the room was a bar, there was an elderly couple serving behind the bar, he stepped into the room.

No one paid any attention to him. He closed the door and moved slowly along the wall and looked around the room, it looked familiar. There was an inglenook fireplace and it had a big roaring log fire, he glanced along the wall and there were two bay windows. There were flimsy Christmas decoration made from coloured paper rings hanging from the ceiling.

The airman were all drinking and lots of animated conversations taking place, there were plenty of smiles about. The bar was in full swing when the front door suddenly opened and a smallish man walked in. Immediately the noise subsided and the men turned towards him. Paul saw the epaulettes on the man’s shoulders and recognized the rank as that of a wing commander. He made his way towards the bar amid cheers from the men.

There were cries of ‘What’ll you have, sir, Landlord, give him a pint of the best’.', but the wing commander shook his head at the landlord.

He held up his hand. “No thank you, gentlemen, I’ve just come over to wish you all a Merry Christmas and good luck for the future”. The room fell silent.

“As most of you know, those that have been here for the past year, that this hasn’t been a very good year for Waddington, in fact it has been a bloody horrible year. We have suffered the worst year that any station and civil population has in the whole of the country. Many houses in the village destroyed, the local church and sadly there have been lives lost and even our own station has taken a battering.”

“And a good pub blown up” piped up a voice from the back.

“But on this Christmas Eve, I am sure you all know by now that 44 Squadron today has taken delivery of the new Avro Lancaster bomber, the first of its type in the country. We can all drink to that, I’m sure”.

There was an almighty cheer that went up, some airmen clapped the wing commander on the back. Still Paul watched on, he seemed to be invisible. Just then a sergeant pilot close to him shouted out, “lt’s our turn now, we’ll show flippin Jerry what’s what!”. Another loud cheer went up.

Paul made his way to the door leading upstairs, he turned to have a last look at the scene. Now the airmen had got the wing commander in the middle of a ring. As he made his way towards the staircase he heard the song ‘For he’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ billowing from the bar.

He entered his room and soon got into bed, he glanced at his watch, it had just turned eleven, he shook it, it was still working. He frowned, was that all when a dream, he asked himself, and promptly fell asleep.

He awoke and looked at his watch, it was five to before eight, his watch was still working. He yawned and stretched out his arms. Suddenly, the events of last night struck him, he relived every moment of it, it seemed so surreal After a brisk wash and shave and picking up a carrier bag, he made his way downstairs and entered the lounge. He walked over to the Christmas tree and took out the presents from the bag and placed them under it.

Mary and Ted came in from the dining room. “Merry Christmas, Paul”, Mary said, “did you sleep alright?” she asked with a smile.

Paul stammered, “M-Merry Christmas, yes, like a log”, feeling slightly embarrassed, Lea most comfortable bed”, he managed a smile.

“Are you hungry?, Ted asked, “it’s been a family tradition for years that we that we don’t have a full breakfast Christmas morning”.

“Bacon butties”, said Mark, entering the room with a smile. “Merry Christmas, Paul”.

“That’ll do for me”, Paul replied with a grin, “my favourites”

Janet entered the room and they all engaged in the usual Christmas pleasantries and sat down whilst Mary left the room to do the sandwiches.

Paul was wondering how to go about telling them about his nightly experience and waited until Mary came back into the lounge with a trolley with all the refreshments on it. She dished out a small tray to everyone and told them to help themselves, with they did with gusto.

After about five minutes Paul spoke.

“Did anyone hear any noise about eleven o’clock last night?” he asked. “Noise? What sort of noise, Paul” asked Ted, munching on his sandwich. “Well, it sounded like a sort of party, but without any music, loud enough to wake me, though”, Paul said, nonchalantly, “I just wondered, that’s all’.

“Nothing like that happens around here, would it dad?”, Janet laughed, they wouldn’t dare”.

They all continued to eat. Paul put his tray down, “There’s something I must tell you”, and started to relate all the things that had happened to him the previous night, every little detail.

There was a stunned silence.

“The bar, you say, Paul”, Ted began, “my father bought this house in the early seventies, but before then he told me that up until the early fifties it had been a pub called The Crown. The elderly couple that owned it retired and eventually it was de-licenced and turned into a domestic dwelling. So that part of your story bears some significance. My father said that because aircrew officers and other ranks had to use different messes on the camp they used to drink at the Crown”.

“The bar was across there”. Paul said. pointing to the far wall.

“That’s amazing, you couldn’t have know that”, Ted said incredulously, and got up and went to the wall and tapping on the floor he turned and said. “This is where my father said the cellar trapdoor used to be, behind the bar, and it had been permanently covered over when the house was renovated”.

There room went very quiet and everyone looked at Paul.

“Wait a moment”. Mark suddenly rose and went to a chest of drawers and got out a lap top. “I’ve got an idea, we’ll see what Google has got on the subject”. He opened it up. switched it on. waited a minute and started typing. He touched the keypad once and then stared at the screen. “Oh, My God”, he said in a shocked tone.

He read out, “RAF Waddington, Enemy action during 1941 severely damaged 71 houses in the village, as well as the Horse and Jockey pub and the NAAFI building on the RAF Station. Unfortunately eleven people were killed, among them the NAAFI manageress. Also St Michael’s church was destroyed in a raid on the night of 8th May, 1941″.

“That’s amazing”, Paul said, shaking his head.

“But listen to this” Mark went on, excitedly, “on 24th December, 1941, No 44 Squadron at RAF Waddington were the first to receive the new Avro Lancaster bomber”.

“Bless my sour’, murmured Mary, “that’s why this house is called Lancaster House, I’d often wondered”.

Ted looked thoughtfully a Paul. “Do you realise that you witnessed Christmas Eve as it was exactly seventy years ago last night”.

Paul shook his head in amazement. “If it wasn’t a dream, what was it?”

“I’ll tell you what it was, Paul, it was a night to remember”, Ted said softly.