Authors: Carys Jones
“I’d say tell me something I didn’t already know,” he winked.
*
Carol and Bill Schneider prided themselves on turning their home in to a festive wonderland every year throughout the month of December.
Outside they hung white lights which looked like icicles and on the front lawn were several illuminated reindeer, one of which lifted its head up and down at specific intervals. There was a holly wreath attached to the front door and the usual welcome mat had been replaced by a more appropriately themed one which simply stated, Merry Christmas. And that was the sentiment the Schneiders were always trying to capture in their home, to make Christmas merry.
The holidays had always been a joyous time for the family. Marie would come home and Carol would cook the largest turkey she could find at Morrisons, much to Bill’s disapproval. He always insisted she save money and buy a smaller bird to roast but come Christmas dinner, he would eagerly polish off any of the surplus meat.
“Does it all look alright?” Carol asked anxiously as the glanced out of the front window for the sixteenth time that morning.
“It looks fine,” Bill assured her.
“Just fine?” Carol glanced fretfully around the living room. The large artificial tree was up, adorned with multi-coloured baubles and tinsel. Beneath the tree a small motorised train set sped round on a circular track. There was holly over the fireplace and streamers strewn all over the ceiling. The house even sounded festive as Carol had put on her Christmas compilation CD. She just wanted everything to be perfect for when Marie returned for the holidays.
Mince pies were cooking in the oven, filling the home with their spiced aroma. There was mulled wine ready to be drunk, crackers waiting to be pulled.
“It’s beautiful,” Bill told his wife from his position on the sofa where he was reading the paper.
“Every year you make the home beautiful and this is no exception.”
“But this year is different,” Carol fretted, drawing back her curtain to take another look down the street outside. This year she wasn’t sure if Marie would even care that it was Christmas. Her daughter had changed so much since the accident, she had darkened. She wanted to use the holidays to bring her back to the little fire cracker she used to be.
“She’ll love it,” Bill nodded sagely. “She always loves Christmas.”
“I hope you’re right.” Carol sighed as her stomach suddenly knotted as she saw Sebastian’s car turn in to their street.
*
“The house looks festive,” Sebastian commented as he pulled in to the driveway. Marie assessed the reindeer, the icicle lights and raised a non-committal eyebrow.
“Your Mum has gone to a lot of trouble to make Christmas special,” he said sternly. “At least pretend to care.”
By the time Marie reached the front door it had already been flung open and both her parents were excitedly collected in the doorway.
“Marie! You’re home,” Carol gushed, instantly surging forward and embracing her daughter.
Marie wavered on her crutches beneath the strength of the embrace.
“Hey, Mum.”
“How was your journey?” Bill asked Sebastian as the men began to unload the car. Marie didn’t hear the response as her mother was ushering her inside and out of the cold.
“They said it would snow but we’ve seen nothing yet,” Carol Schneider chattered on as she settled her daughter upon the sofa.
“I mean, it’s lovely to look at but such a fright to get around in.”
As Marie sat down she took in the room around her. She noticed various themed ornaments and stockings across the fireplace. She was placed against a Christmas cushion and even the coasters on the side table were patterned with images of Santa Claus.
Something stirred within her as she sat there. Something which had felt dormant for a long time. She remembered seeing the sparkling lights, the train looping around the Christmas tree, the smell of mince pies baking. She remembered all these things and she remembered being happy.
“You always loved Christmas,” Carol announced as she handed Marie a glass of mulled wine.
“I know,” Marie agreed as she carefully placed the glass down atop a jolly Santa Claus. “I remember.”
“You do?” Carol could barely contain her joy. “That’s brilliant!”
“Mmm,” Marie tried to sound enthused even though the memory of once being happy only served now to make her sad.
Back then she’d been different. She’d not known of Azriel, of her true destiny. It was easy to be happy when you were oblivious to such things. Now, everything was different, Marie was different. She wasn’t the daughter who had sung carols by the tree and watched every Christmas special on television whilst wearing a bright red onesie. She was Azriel’s Princess and this life here no longer felt like hers. She felt like a fraud.
“Wow, Carol, you’ve gone all out,” Sebastian complimented as he came in, rubbing his hands together.
“We’re just glad you’re both here to spend Christmas with us,” Carol gushed.
A familiar pop song about Christmas echoed in Marie’s ears as she tentatively sipped on her mulled wine and thought about the man in the navy coat. She couldn’t stop thinking about his message. If Azriel was struggling without her, how long did she have left before the world disappeared altogether?
*
Marie was taking a bath. It was something she couldn’t do back in her apartment in London where the small bathroom contained only a shower cubicle.
Baths soothed Marie’s aching limbs. The warm sweet smelling water caressed them and eased the throbbing pain. Leaning back in the bubbles Marie sighed contentedly. She was finally trusted to be alone in the bathroom as she could wash herself though it did take a considerable amount of time and effort. But Marie wanted to do these things herself, they made her feel more normal.
It also gave her an opportunity to be alone with her thoughts. Since arriving the previous day she’d constantly been harassed by her family. They had watched festive movies, played board games and had an assortment of well-meaning Aunts and Uncles come round to see Marie and drop off gifts.
Carol had compiled an entire schedule of family activities they could partake in as though she didn’t dare to leave Marie alone for even the briefest of moments.
Finally, after Marie complained about aching her mother conceded to let her bath alone though as she sat soaking in the porcelain tub she kept hearing the soft patter of footsteps just beyond the bathroom door as someone kept a watchful vigil over her.
The warm water and vanilla scented bubbles relaxed Marie and she felt her body become heavy and her eyes begin to drift closed. She wanted to dream. In her dreams she could return to Azriel and to Orion. If only she could get there in her dreams she could ask them how she was supposed to get there in real life. Surely they would have answers for her. All these people who kept approaching her, they had crossed over, why couldn’t she?
Weary of the eternally upbeat Christmas music her mother insisted on playing throughout the house at all times, Marie had put some music on her phone for her to relax to whilst in the bath. She’d chosen a Tears for Fears song. Leaning back she let the words to the song carry her away, wishing that when she opened her eyes she’d see Azriel once more.
She imaged the golden spires of the castle, the perfectly cobbled streets and the deliciously scented air. She’d give anything to walk bare feet in the emerald grass or wear one of her ornate princess dresses again.
Orion’s handsome face floated in her mind, his golden eyes sparkling alluringly at her. Marie smiled dreamily at his visage. Did he miss her? Did he think of her as often as she thought of him?
“Marie,” the door to the bathroom swung open suddenly, disturbing Marie’s train of thought. Flustered she slid down slightly in the bath causing water to surge up her nose. Coughing she gripped the sides of the bath and raised herself in to a sitting position, turning in annoyance to see who had broken the serenity of her time alone.
Sebastian was standing in the bathroom doorway his expression pale. He looked first at Marie and then at her phone which was still playing the song she had selected. The singer was melodically declaring that the dreams in which they were dying were the best they’d ever had.
The song was called
Mad World
. Marie thought the title was apt considering what a crazy, confusing world she found herself to be living in these days.
“Marie, what are you doing?”
“I’m having a bath, what does it look like?” Marie retorted angrily. Her thoughts of Azriel were now utterly banished. She was back in the small bathroom at her parent’s home with the faded blue walls and the chipped white toilet.
“That song,” he pointed accusingly at the phone as though it had made the song selection all on its own.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Marie, it’s so depressing. It’s so…not you.”
The old Marie used to love listening to upbeat pop songs whilst prancing around the house and singing loudly in to a hair brush.
“I like it,” Marie shrugged, lying back down in the bath as her exposed skin was starting to cool.
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve,” Sebastian knelt down beside the bath to look at her. “I wish you could find some happiness in that instead of wallowing all the time.”
“I’m not wallowing.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve been wallowing ever since the accident but you’re getting better now, you can’t keep letting it hold you back.”
“You don’t understand,” Marie turned away from him. She wasn’t wallowing. She was stuck. Stuck in a world where she didn’t belong. How could anyone possibly understand that?
“I know I don’t,” Sebastian admitted sadly. “But you also don’t tell me anything. You just lock yourself away and listen to sad songs which worries us. If you want to talk to me I’m here, make me understand.”
Sebastian sounded so desperately sincere. Marie frowned and stared at the thinning bubbles in the tub around her. Perhaps he’d understand if she told him. Perhaps she had been wrong to think he was conspiring to keep her from Azriel. Maybe he really hadn’t seen the woman in the cinema that night. He seemed to care for her so deeply, but then perhaps that was why he wanted to keep her in his world instead of letting her return to Azriel.
“There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me stop loving you,” Sebastian said softly.
Marie turned to look at him. He smiled slightly and leant down and playfully positioned some of the bubbles on the tip of her nose. Marie giggled. It was a light, angelic sound which Sebastian had missed terribly.
“I’m here for you,” he promised her. “I just want to understand what you’re going through.”
Opening her mouth to speak Marie struggled to find the words.
“I…after the accident…” she wanted to speak of Azriel, of her true destiny. She was about to explain how she just didn’t belong in this world when her mother’s loud voice carried up the stairs to them.
“Dinner is in five minutes,” she declared. “Marie, I’ve made your favourite, lasagne. Come on out of that bath now before you turn in to a prune!”
Marie raised her hand, surprised to see that her fingertips were already shrivelling in to a prune like state.
“Let me help you out,” Sebastian offered her his arm as she carefully manoeuvred herself out of the bath, instantly shivering as she was released from its warm embrace.
Sebastian helped her get dry and put on her Christmas pyjamas and dressing gown. All talk of Azriel had momentarily grinded to a halt.
Dressed and ready for dinner Marie began to descend the staircase using the banister in place of her crutches but she paused briefly to look back at Sebastian who was following her.