Christmas Eve

Snowflakes drifted down from the leaden sky as Holly drove through the commuter traffic, an eerie light playing tricks on her as she watched, mesmerised by the flakes fluttering gently down and settling on the road ahead of her. She felt like she was in a snow-globe.

It was Christmas Eve and shoppers wrapped in woolly hats and scarves were scurrying around laden with bags, boxes, and Christmas cheer. She had never felt happier. She was driving home to her husband, Greg, to spend their first Christmas together and she had just collected his gift. He would be thrilled with it, she knew. All she had to do was get it home safely and in one piece.

Both sets of parents had taken some convincing that she and Greg wanted to spend their first Christmas in their own modest home together, just the two of them, with the proviso that they all caught up on Boxing Day when a big family gathering had been organised by Pat, Greg’s Mum.

Chris Rea’s “Driving Home for Christmas” was playing on the car radio and it seemed the perfect song as she manoeuvered her Fiat 500 carefully through the heavy traffic, which had suddenly come to a grinding halt. She checked her phone: no missed calls and no messages. Good. She knew that Greg was working late this evening and that fitted in perfectly with her plans. She had a few things to do before the big day, but everything was coming together perfectly.

The traffic started moving again and she was aware that the roads were slippery as the snow quickly turned to slush. She pulled up at the intersection and waited as the lights turned from amber to red. Traffic seemed to be going in every direction; she hated this junction at the best of times but tonight, it seemed more chaotic than usual. The lights ahead of her changed from red to amber and then green. She put the car into gear and moved off. As she reached the brow of the hill, suddenly she saw a car flying towards her. She screamed and slammed her foot down to avoid an impact but the car was travelling at such speed, it caught the back of her car spinning it round and round. The noise was unbearable and after a deafening bang, there was a grinding, juddering sound of metal on metal and then, silence.

A soft whimpering sound from the back of the car broke into her dazed thoughts. She heard more whimpering and then she passed out.

Greg laid another log on the open fire and warmed up some mulled wine. He knew Holly would be home soon and he wanted everything to be perfect. He was surprised that she wasn’t home by now, but it was Christmas Eve and everybody goes crazy, grabbing last-minute gifts and goodies. He put some Christmas music on and turned the lights down low. When the doorbell rang, he thought Holly must have mislaid her key.

A policeman stood at the door.

“Mr. Dodd?”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your wife has been involved in a car accident and we found your dog in the back of her car.”

“What? How is Holly? Is she OK? We don’t have a dog.”

“Your wife has been admitted to Greystones Hospital and we have taken the dog to get checked over by a vet.”

Greg was in complete turmoil and the policeman kindly offered to drive him to the hospital. When they arrived, the policeman was told that Holly was in the operating theatre undergoing emergency surgery. Greg felt like the bottom of his world had dropped out and he was losing grip on reality. How could this be happening? Their first Christmas together was meant to be so special. He felt weak and helpless.

“Can I speak to a doctor, or somebody who knows what’s happening?” he asked the receptionist. The policeman had left for another emergency.

After what seemed like an interminable wait, Greg was shown into a small room on the surgical ward. A doctor in green scrubs and black Crocs ushered him inside.

“Your wife is going to be okay, Mr. Dodd, but she suffered some internal bleeding so we are going to keep her in overnight for observation. She has lots of cuts and bruises but other than that…” The surgeon’s voice faded into the background as Greg processed the information; she was going to be okay. Thank God!

“When can I see her?” he asked urgently.

“A nurse will come and find you in a few minutes, once we’ve settled your wife onto the ward and made her comfortable.”

Greg thanked the surgeon profusely, shaking his hand, and sat back down, a turmoil of emotions running through him. He dropped his head into his hands and prayed that Holly would be alright. When he was finally shown through to see her, he was shocked at what he saw. His beautiful wife looked pale and fragile; she had pipes and wires all over her and looked so delicate.

“Hey!” he said, taking her hand gently, being careful not to dislodge a plastic tube.

Holly managed a weak smile and squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. Please stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere, my love. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better,” she quipped and they both laughed, but Holly winced because it hurt so much.

Christmas was postponed in the Dodd household and family rallied round with Holly being discharged a few days later and dispatched to her Mum and Dad’s to recuperate. Greg put up a fight but was over-ruled.

“You need to be at home to prepare for Pepe’s home-coming.”

Greg smiled. He had wanted a dog for as long as he could remember but somehow, something always got in the way. This year, he had finally got one. The vet had given the Springer Spaniel pup the all-clear saying he had suffered from shock caused by the impact. He was being cared for by the pretty veterinary assistants until Greg was ready to collect him.

“Only on the understanding that we both collect him and take him home together.”

“Deal,” Holly said smiling. Greg thought she had never looked so beautiful.

* * *

This story was first published on Medium. Thank you for reading. You can join me at Rosy's Ramblings and coming soon on Rosy's Ramblings, podcasts read by me, Rosy. I look forward to welcoming you aboard.