A Festive Season

[billybogsnorkeller]

I asked Shewolf a while ago about posting some FF from my old Emmerdale Net site and never got around to it.

Please take note that none of the stories I post were written or in anyway edited by be, the author deserves your thanks and or criticism.

A Festive Season

by Jenny Reynolds a.k.a. Star Angel

Part 1


All was quiet in the village. The Holiday Village that was. Having been abandoned as a good idea from the start, it was reverted to the mothball. In Emmerdale, however, the Christmas spirit was being well and truly downtrodden in true Soap fashion.
Now Christmas is a time for miracles, forgiveness, turkey and pudding. The turkey and pudding were being provided up at Home Farm, miracles and forgiveness were in short supply.
Something needed to happen. And this, being Soapland, it was about to.

***

Christmas, the time of year that everyone looks back, and realises what a mess they made of the past twelve months, and wishes they could change something. Maybe, change everything. Things couldn't be worse than they already are, right?
Wrong.

***

"What do you want for Christmas?"
"Since when was Santa female and slim?"
"Since when were kids big mouthed?"
Andy just scowled. "I'm too old for this."
"So am I, what do you want?"
"What do I want for Christmas? A more considerate brother," he muttered under his breath."
"You and me both," Robert muttered.
"I'm sorry?" Santa asked.
"I'd like him to get what he deserves for Christmas," Robert spat.
"OK, I think I've heard enough. What about Dad?"
"Dad?" Jack replied, shocked.
"Yes, Dad," Santa answered. "What do you want for Christmas?"
"I want the farm to turn a profit. Same thing I want every year. Come on, kids."
Robert and Andy trooped after Jack, while Santa reached into her sack and grabbed a handful of sand which she poured into a dish beside her.

***

"I don't think you can solve my problems," Marc said.
"I'm just asking what you want for Christmas," Santa said.
"I want my life back."
"I see…"
"You and me both," Ollie added.
"The only way you two would get your lives back, is if you stole it."
"Mrs Birch…"
"Aren't you a bit old for Santa?" she asked with her usual acid tongue.
"Nobody's too old for Santa," she replied. "What do you want?"
"Apart from that boy to get what he deserves, would you mind signing…?"
"You can't ask Santa to sign a petition!" Ollie exclaimed.
"That's not Santa, it's just some girl in a suit. And it's for everyone's interest that I'm doing this."
"I think not, Mrs Birch," Santa replied.
"You trying to browbeat Santa now?" Eric asked as he walked into the pub.
"Even if I was to subscribe to the ridiculous idea of… It's not even a convincing Santa! It's supposed to be a large man!"
"Christmas isn't about some man in a suit, it's about family and loved ones," Eric replied.
"I think I know what you all want," Santa said, and reached into her bag for another handful of sand.

***

"Orange and soda, please," Santa asked Bernice.
"Going OK?"
"Fine, when people get over the fact that I'm female, and not fat!" she laughed.
"I'd love not to be fat," Bernice mused.
"How much longer?"
"Two months, though I wish he'd hurry up!"
"He?"
"I don't know, but the way the baby is kicking…"
"Don't wish for an early arrival, you might get it! Besides, a birthday round Christmas is no fun!"
"I don't think it's too bad. I'm the 27th…"
"I'm Christmas Day," Santa replied, sipping her drink.
"Perfect job," Bernice smiled.
"So, what do you want for Christmas?"
"My life to be a lot less complicated. I wish…" she trailed off.
"What?"
"I wish I'd listened to my heart."
"Don't we all. I'm just going outside for some air."

***

"Santa smoking? That's not exactly a positive image!"
"Like you're squeaky clean?" Santa asked, then noticed the dog collar. "Ah, sorry!"
"Don't be. You the pub Santa?"
"No, I'm the real one."
"I deserved that."
"Yes, you did. What do you want for Christmas?"
"My heart back."
"I'm sorry?"
"Long story."
"One of those, 'do not ask' things?"
"Something like that. Afternoon, Diane!" Ashley called.
"Ashley, you coming in?" Diane asked.
"…No. Better not," he replied.
"Not a positive image," Diane motioned to Santa's cigarette.
"My job is stressful enough," she replied. "Christmas wish?"
"That when Rodney left me, he stayed away."
"OK. I'll be in a second." When Diane left, Santa took another handful of sand.
"Oh, look. The pub not only copies my Santa idea, but they can't even hire a proper one!" Nicola sauntered across the road, a smirk appearing on her face. "And what Santa smokes?"
"This one. Now, assuming you've been a good girl, which I doubt very much, what do you want for Christmas."
"All memory of Carlos and my relationship with him gone."
"Season of goodwill not running deep for you?"
"Not with my family," she spat. "Aren't you supposed to be putting some poor kid on your knee?"
"Aren't you supposed to be out there scaring them?"
Nicola scowled again, then stormed off.
"Nikki!" someone called, but she didn't hear him, got into her car, and drove off. "She alright?"
"Fine, but could sour milk with her face."
"That's my daughter you're talking about," he replied.
"Want her back for Christmas?"
"I want my daughters to have a good relationship for Christmas. Is that too much to ask?"
"Not for Santa," she smiled.

***

"A pub Santa," Chris remarked. "How quaint. And stupid given that these are licensed premises."
"Merry Christmas to you. Is it pointless to ask you what you want?"
"I want my sister and wife to get on. And I want to be left alone."
"Ah, come on Chris," Charity said. "It is Christmas."
"And what do you want?" Chris asked.
"I want Zoë out of my life. Then I can have you all to myself."
"Behave yourself, Charity!" Chloe exclaimed.
"And what do you want for Christmas?" Santa asked her.
"I want Nicola to lighten up! She's making my life a misery!"
Another handful of sand went into to the dish before Chloe had finished speaking.

***

"Thanks for today," Bernice said as Santa packed up her grotto.
"It's been fun," she replied.
"A female Santa. Definitely different."
"That's what everyone says."
"Get many kids in?" Bernice asked.
"A few big ones," Santa smirked. "People wishing for all sorts of things!"
"And are you going to grant them?"
"Maybe," she smiled.

***

As she left the pub, she pulled the dish from her bag. Removing the lid, she waited until the wind caught up before tipping it out. The grains of sand scattered, caught on the breeze before being whipped up to the sky.
"Ho ho ho," she muttered, before disappearing.

[billybogsnorkeller]

A Festive Season

by Jenny Reynolds a.k.a. Star Angel

Part 2


It's a Wonderful Emmerdale Christmas

Christmas morning, and a different world was evolving. That was just a fancy way of saying that everything was different. The grains of sand had scattered to all corners of the village, and with them, brought the sands of time to a halt.

***

"Morning, son," Jack sighed as he walked into the kitchen.
"I made breakfast," Robert said, hoping that it wasn't obvious that he was sucking up.
"No thanks, I'd better get going if I want to be in Manchester by ten."
"I don't know why you have to leave so early," Robert whined.
"Because it's Christmas Day, and I want to see Andy. That OK with you?"
"No!" Robert yelled. After almost a year of it, he was finally sick of it all. "He killed Mum, and you care more about him than you do about your real son."
"Some son," Jack hissed. "Remind me, who was it who told the police in the first place?"
Robert knew there was no reply to that, so he scowled and stormed upstairs to his room.

***

"Morning, love," Diane said as she came downstairs. "You OK?"
"I'm fine. It wasn't me who was blind drunk at the party last night," Bernice replied.
"You weren't doing too badly," Diane quipped.
"I know when to stop though."
"Is Nicola coming round later?"
"Should be."
"Carlos?"
"I don't know."
"What about Ashley?"
"Mum!"
"I was just thinking that…"
"I know, but I can't do that to him."
"You've been avoiding each other for a year now. I thought that you too were getting on better now."
"We are!"
"I saw you dancing with him at his birthday party."
"We're just friends, Mum. Will you stop trying to play matchmaker."
"I just… I looked like you were having second thoughts, Bernice. About…"
"Jilting him? It was the right thing to do."

***

"Did Santa come?" Angie asked as two sets of feet thundered down the stairs.
"Very funny, Mum," Marc sighed.
"Thanks, Mum," Ollie said.
The atmosphere in the house was the same that it had been since the summer. Ollie was still having trouble coming to terms with her abusive relationship with Cain. She was withdrawn, short tempered, and no-one knew what to do with her.
"Any plans?" Angie asked.
"I wanted to go and see Dad later, if that's OK?" Marc asked.
"Fine," Angie sighed. "Ollie?"
"There's always some good films on. Thought I'd just pick one," she said.
"You never go out any more," Marc complained.
"So? That's my business!" Ollie yelled, and ran back upstairs.
"I wish she'd finished with him sooner," Angie sighed for about the hundredth time that month alone.

***

Home Farm living room was slowly disappearing under the wrapping paper. Joseph was excitedly tearing from one present to another.
"Merry Christmas," Charity said, holding out a crudely wrapped box.
"Thank you, Charity," Joseph answered, and took it from her.
"You OK?" she asked Chris.
"Fine. Just…"
"Missing Zoë?"
"Yeah," Chris sighed. "She loved watching Joseph with his presents."
"Yes, but she's gone."
"I wish I knew why," he sighed.
"You and me both."
Charity didn't tell her new husband that, unlike him, she had a fair idea. After she'd knocked Zoë back, Zoë had upped sticks and left. It was the only way the two women could have a decent relationship, but at the same time, the working class girl was relieved that she was gone.
"Thank you, Charity," Joseph said, holding up the rollerblades.
"I'll teach you how to use them if you like," she said.
"Yes please!"
"Charity…" Chris started, but Charity silenced him with a kiss.

***

Christmas lunch at the pub was under way with the usual soap trimmings. After one minor crisis after another, Bernice, Diane, Tricia, Marlon, Nicola, and a semi-unwelcome Carlos were sitting round the table. After the relationship break-down, tensions between Bernice and Carlos had been steadily increasing. The big drama of the barmaid jilting the vicar at the altar last year has subsided. The next big drama had been the barmaid and the chef, but that was over almost quicker than it had started.
Bernice chewed each mouthful slowly, trying not to notice Nicola trying to chat Carlos up. She'd tried to keep them apart all year, she knew he would end up hurting her. But she longed for a family, and wanted to keep Nicola close.
"My dad would love you," Nicola giggled.
"I'm sure," Carlos replied.
"Rodney isn't what you'd call… loveable himself," Diane said.
"Mum," Bernice hissed.
"Well, he isn't. I haven't laid eyes on him since you were a kid, and if it never changes, I'll be happy."
"But you never think of me, do you? It's always you. Maybe I'd have loved to have gotten to know him," Bernice hissed.
The only parts of meeting her father that Bernice didn't regret, was meeting Nicola, and Diane being away when he turned up.
"I need some air," she said eventually.
"You OK?" Tricia asked.
"Fine. Overindulged I think," she smiled, and got up.

***

"Dad," Andy said, almost with pure relief as Jack walked through the door.
"Merry Christmas, son," Jack said, hugging him. "You OK?"
"Fine. You?"
"Same as always."
"I heard about the latest attack.
"Those damn protesters. No-one can stand to see us being happy, can they?"
"I'm sorry, Dad," Andy said.
"Why?"
"If I hadn't…"
"Listen. It wasn't your fault. If anyone's, it was Robert. He's the one who opened his big mouth…"
"You don't say that to him, do you?"
"…No, but I think he knows," Jack sighed.
"Dad!"
"Enough of that, how are you coping?"
"It's not too bad, when you settle in."
"And the…?"
"They've stopped. Got sick of me not putting up a fight," Andy replied.
"I'm glad."
"How's the farm?"
"We're doing fine. The new crops are growing great, the government reckon that they'll be able to use more fields, that means more money."
"Maybe it's for the best. As soon as I'm out of your life, you get some good luck."
"Hey," Jack protested. "Listen, don't you ever think like that. You're my son. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing, OK?"
"OK."

***

"Hello, Mrs Birch," Marc said.
"And what can we do for you?"
"I was hoping to see Eve."
"Today is a day for families."
"I won't be long."
"Didn't you hear me, boy? I don't want your sort with my granddaughter."
"My sort?"
"Your sort," Edna spat. "You're friends with that Sudden boy, the murderer."
"Mrs Birch…"
"Nothing but trouble, that family. If it's not that phone mast, it's those crops. And I can't consent to someone who sides with the likes of them seeing my Evelyn. Good day to you!"

***

After mass, Ashley was at a loss what to do. The prospect of Christmas lunch for one was for some reason, unappealing. Instead he decided to reflect on the past year by walking round the church grounds several times.
"You OK, Ashley?" Chloe called.
"Fine, you?"
"Enjoying Christmas. Probably my last here."
"I'm sorry?" he asked.
"The Holiday Village is going down, and fast. Nicola… she's a walkover! She's too nice, and people walk all over her. I bet we'll be out of business by the summer, and with Chez Marlon closing, I'll need a new job. There aren't many round here, so I'm going to have to move."
"We'll miss you."
"I'll miss you," she smiled. "What you doing today? Have you got plans?"
"Yes, " he lied, sensing the pity offer coming.
"Oh, OK. Merry Christmas, Ashley."
"Merry Christmas, Chloe," he replied, and watched her walk away. He turned to head back towards the vicarage, when someone called out to him.
"Ashley!"
"What do you want, Bernice?" he asked without turning around.
"To talk. Please."

***

Jack was quiet when he returned home. He hated that Youth Detention Centre, and he hated the thought of the boy that he thought of his true son was spending the best years of his life in that place. Robert had sent him there for Sarah's death. Out of some misguided sense of justice, his blood son had sent Andy to jail, and in the process had torn the family apart.
Robert was upstairs, and Jack didn't expect him to be down any time soon. Victoria was with Betty and Seth, but he didn't feel like picking her up just now. Right now, he just wanted to be alone.

***

"I'm sorry."
"You've been saying that for the past year, Bernice, and I wish you would stop. It's OK."
"It's not OK."
"Bernice, I'm over it. I'm over you. I do… I still love you, but I can't deal with that. You don't have to feel sorry for me."
"Today was supposed to be our anniversary."
"That required us actually getting married. In a way, I'm glad we didn't," he sighed.
"I'm sorry?" Bernice replied, shocked.
"I… I'm just glad you didn't make a mistake. I'd hate it if we…"
"You were so certain that everything was perfect."
"You weren't. That's all."
"I'm sorry."
"Say that one more time, you will be," he laughed.
"Are we… friends?" Bernice asked hesitantly.
"Yeah," Ashley replied.
"But you want more."
"Can you blame me?"
"No."
"You?"
"I… still don't know. I love you, I know that…"
"But enough?"
"That I…"
"Don't know," Ashley laughed.

***

Santa stood on the edge of the village, leaning up against the 'Emmerdale' sign. It was nice to know that their lives would be in just as big a mess as they would have been, even if she hadn't interfered. But what they had lost, was huge, even if they didn't know it.
Andy had lost his freedom. Robert had lost his father, and Jack had lost his farming principles and his son.
Marc had lost his sister, and Ollie had lost her confidence.
Edna had gained, but she was even more an outcast than before.
Chris had lost his sister, and Charity had lost part of her husband with him.
Chloe had lost her job and her home.
Ashley had lost his daughter, and Bernice had lost her husband. Diane had lost her daughter because of her ex-husband. Nicola had lost her edge, and Rodney had lost both of his daughters.
Enough was enough.
She reached down to the ground, and took a handful of dirt from just inside the village limits. Holding open her hand, she allowed the wind to blow the dirt across the village.

***

Christmas Day broke, and everyone was still laughing at the pub hiring a female Santa, and no-one knew any different.