Christmas Eve in the Workhouse

 

A little Christmas Eve challenge for a group of characters you may or may not know.  If you don't know them, Severe Discomfort is free to download as an ebook from Amazon every first Friday. 

  'I assure you, Mr Novak, even if we had gone to the Railway Arms and their infernal karaoke machine had been working, there isn't enough Merlot in the world to induce me to sing that song with you!'

  They were not in the Railway Arms.  The staff, volunteers and a few friends of the Solent Welfare Rights Project were gathered at the once notorious, now salubrious Lord Nelson, unexpectedly still together at the end of another year of advice work and campaigning.

  'Bloody spoil-sport!' Toby Novak sneered at his colleague Hilary Carrington.  'I thought you'd enjoy slagging me off in the cause of Christmas cheer.'

  'You know my position on bad language, Toby.'  Hilary raised her eyebrows and sipped her red wine elegantly, despite it being her third large glass.  Luckily, she was getting a lift home.

  'I'd have done it,' Tricia Williams assured him.  'In fact, I'm happy to call you a scumbag - or scummer - and a maggot any time of the year and without any music either!'

  'I share those sentiments, but I think our Equalities policy might stop you there,' Hilary noted dryly.

  'I'm more than willing to waive any right to lodge a grievance to maintain artistic authenticity,' said Vaughan James.  'I've always been rather fond of Fairytale of New York as a welcome contrast to the usual saccharine fare inflicted on us annually in the name of Christmas pop.'   

  'That's cool, Vaughan,' Tricia replied.  'But I'd still have to edit out the bit about praying it's our last as we're all praying it won't be, aren't we?'

  'As usual,' sighed Hilary.

  'I wish someone would write something new that's half way decent,' Paula Walker complained.  'Whenever you stick the radio on in December, it's all seventies and eighties stuff!'
  'Yeah.  If only Coldplay had done a Christmas song!'  Toby laid the sarcastic tone on generously, lest any of his friends thought he was serious.
  'I like seventies and eighties music,' confessed Deepak Malhotra.
  'You're a young fogey, though!' Toby said.
  'I'll happily admit to that,' said Deepak.  'But I'm not the only one who puts the same old tunes on every year and sings along, I'm sure.  Don't you all find that Christmassy songs bring back happy memories?'
  'Memories indeed,' Hilary said.  'But not always entirely happy ones.'
  'I've got a happy Christmas music story,' declared Sally Archer, splattering the table with droplets of apple juice as she waved her glass as if raising her hand to answer a question.  'Whenever I've heard All I want for Christmas is you it reminds me of New Year's Eve at Hilary's the year before last.'
  'Why's that, Sazza?' asked Toby.
  'None of your business!' she answered sheepishly. 
  It was hard to tell in the glow from the Christmas tree lights, but Toby could have sworn she was blushing.
  'If you can't say, that doesn't count!' he said.  'But Deepak's got a point.  These songs do bring back memories.  If Sally won't share hers, I'll tell you mine - as long as the rest of you join in with yours too.'
  'Agreed,' said Tricia.
  'Me too,' said Paula.
  'I'm in!' Vaughan declared.
  'I think it's my round,' said Hilary.  'But I will tell you my story too.'
  'Right,' Toby said.  'Who wants to go first?'

To be continued...