Christmas Eve on The Patch

 

The light was fading fast and, as if on cue, a few flakes of snow were beginning to fall as the removal lorry hoved into view at the end of the road. James and Emily were glad to see it; they were sitting in camping chairs in the front room of an unfurnished house while their two children thundered about above them in the empty house, fighting over who was going to get which room.

Moving to a new patch was a fact of life in the army and moving on Christmas Eve had been unavoidable. James, a Captain in the Royal Engineers, had been overseas on a peace keeping mission and it would have been unthinkable for Emily and the children to move alone. Being military and used to frequent changes of accommodation they had pared their belongings down to the bare essentials and it was not long before the removal lorry was empty and on its way and the house was full of boxes.

“Thank God” said Emily “We can unpack a few items and then relax for the night”.

James reminded her that they had, at least, to unpack the artificial Christmas tree and arrange the children’s presents underneath it, once the children had gone to bed. That reminded Emily that they also had to unpack their bedding. She could see a longer and busier evening ahead then she had at first imagined.

There was a click from the front door as the letter box opened and then closed.

“Oh, someone knows we are here” said James and went to pick up a small envelope that was lying in the hall. “It’s an invitation” he said, and he put it aside on a shelf in the hall.

“That’s nice, provided it is not for tonight” said Emily, laughing.

They finished unpacking for the evening and put on the kettle. Before sitting down to her mug of tea, Emily went into the hall to fetch the invitation and what she saw caused her to stop in her tracks.

“It is for tonight!” she cried and waved the invitation in James’ face as she came back into the kitchen.

“Can’t be” said James “That’s why I didn’t bother to read it properly”.

The invitation read:

Colonel and Mrs Glyn Jones

Request the presence of:

Captain and Mrs Gill

Station Commander’s Residence

Burma Square

Cocktail Party

Smart Casual

7:30pm for 8pm

“What?” James let out a frustrated expletive.

“We heard that” two voices said in unison from upstairs.

“We’re not going, surely” said Emily.

“No choice” said James “Can’t ignore an invitation like this, especially on a new posting”.

“But we have only just arrived” Emily pleaded.

“Yes, but he probably does not realise that; the rest of the company arrived last week” retorted James. “What time is it now?”

It was seven o’clock already. That gave them 45 mins to prepare as it never paid to arrive too early at these events. There ensued a frantic search in boxes and suitcases for a suit for James and a cocktail dress for Emily. They regretted packing their shoes away so well and not labelling the boxes. James rubbed his chin in frustration and then realised he had not shaved for two days. Another search ensued.

All this was accomplished in 30 minutes giving them time to breathe. Only one thing had been overlooked.

“The kids, what about the kids?” shouted Emily. They had forgotten about a baby sitter.

One advantage of being in the army was that, after a few years, you rarely ended up somewhere where there was not someone you knew. One frantic phone call later, at considerable expense, and the teenage daughter of someone they knew from a previous posting was at the door, boyfriend in tow and a half bottle of vodka protruding from her handbag. But this was an emergency.

A quick check on Google maps showed that Burma Square was only about 100 yards from their front door, it was a cul-de-sac which was also the end of their road, so they walked along to a secluded collection of five large, detached houses, all allocated to senior officers, arranged not in a square but in a semi-circle round a patch of grass with a large oak tree in the centre. There were large cars parked on the square and most houses had at least two cars parked in the long drive.

“When will you be a colonel, James?” asked Emily.

“Not soon enough” thought James.

One house in the middle of the row was larger than the rest and had a sign at the bottom of the drive indicating that it was, indeed, the Station Commander’s Residence. The house was lit up and shafts of light fell on the well groomed lawn at the front from a pair of large bay windows a set of French windows.

“Very nice” said James “And we’re not too early”.

“The Station Commander clearly has an eye for quality older cars” he continued “I have never seen one of these old Mark II Volvos in such good condition and that Triumph 2000 is a beauty”.

A uniformed non-commissioned soldier opened the door to them as they arrived, and they were shown into the large room. About thirty people were gathered, sipping drinks, nibbling canapés and hors d’oeuvres being served by uniformed young ladies. The hum of polite conversation drifted around the room.

A tall, distinguished man came over, presumably the host, greeted them and introduced them to his wife and then started making the rounds of the guests again.

“Strange” said James “I don’t recognise anyone here”.

“Why’s that strange?” asked Emily “We’ve only just arrived on the patch”.

“It’s strange because we already know people on the patch and a few colleagues came with me from our last posting” answered James, to which Emily just nodded.

The evening was spent pleasantly drifting about between the others there, mainly couples,  but a few strange incidents made James and Emily swap notes on the walk home.

Emily started “I think the Colonel must have a sense of humour”.

“What makes you say that?” asked James.

“Well the dress code on the invitation didn’t mention that the party was retro” she replied “Some of those dresses were out of the ark. And the men’s suits! Those collars were like wings”.

James, who did not have much of an eye for these things, had not noticed but did comment on the food. “I must say I was not blown away by the nibbles; I thought cheese and grapes on cocktail sticks were a thing of the past”.

“Yes, especially served up stuck into an orange” said Emily “The kind of thing my parents used to laugh about from their youth”.

“I guess it all figures” concluded James “The cars in the drive and even a batman at the door, thought that had gone years back. Some poor private must have been convinced to give up his Christmas Eve.”

“Must’ve got some young female privates to serve the nibbles and drinks” added Emily.

“We’ll know next time” said James “If there is a next time”.

****

They arrived back at their new house, which was still standing. The baby sitter was paid and staggered off with her boyfriend. An empty half bottle of vodka was in the kitchen bin. After checking the kids, James and Emily went to bed, exhausted.

****

It was always polite in military circles to drop the host of a dinner or cocktail party a note of thanks. James wrote a note to the Colonel and his wife, thanking them for the invitation, complimenting the selection of drinks and—with a smile—the food.

“I’m sure that the kids could go up the road to deliver this” he suggested to Emily.

“Sure” she replied “It’s almost within sight and they don’t have to cross any roads. Provided they go straight there and straight back and” staring at the kids “don’t fight!”

The kids were wrapped up in coats and scarves and pointed in the right direction.

“Just look for the sign saying ‘Station Commander’s House’, it’s the biggest one in the middle of the row of houses, and pop this through the letter box”.

The kids took longer than expected, which worried Emily a bit,  but eventually the front door opened, and they came in to the kitchen where James and Emily were drinking coffee.

“What’s wrong?” said Emily, she could sense that something was up, the kids were both looking down at their feet.

“Mummy Daddy” the younger of the kids spluttered “We couldn’t find the house”.

“Don’t be silly” said Emily, “It’s just along the road, you couldn’t miss it”. That didn’t help much.

James asked “Did you see a sign saying Station Commander’s House?”

“No” said the older one “We looked and looked, honest”.

“OK, it’s not urgent; I’ll go up with it later” said James.

****

In fact, he did not go up to the house later. Tired out by finishing the unpacking and their late night the previous evening, the family settled down to watch TV, progressing from a series of kids’ programmes and films to more adult programmes and films once the kids had gone to bed before they all had an early night. It had not been their best Christmas but at least they were all together which was not always the case.

****

Boxing Day passed and James was required to call in at the base, a short drive away, and meet some of his new colleagues. He mentioned the cocktail party to a few of them but all he got was puzzled looks in return.

“Of course” he rationalised “None of them were there”.

The day was short as most officers wanted to be back with their families.

****

James pulled up at the new house and was just about to enter when he glanced along to the end of the road where he could see the top of the large oak tree in the centre of Burma Square. Instead of going towards the new house he decided to walk up to the square to see what, if any, problem the kids may have had finding the Station Commander’s House.

What he saw as he approached the cul-de-sac astonished him. The end of the road was closed by a barrier beyond which stood the five houses which formed Burma Square. The problem was, they were all abandoned and crumbling. Nobody had lived there for decades.