A Perfect Christmas Read Online Free
Author: Lynda Page
doing his best to calm the situation.
Suddenly the bride-to-be seemed to sense the presence of others. She turned and looked down the aisle at Glen and Jan, resting in the top pew. On seeing the calibre of the new arrivals, her expression turned to one of absolute horror and she loudly exclaimed, ‘What are those people doing here?’
The vicar looked down the aisle before telling her, ‘This is a church. Everyone is welcome here.’
The soon-to-be bridegroom looked severely embarrassed and said to his fiancée, ‘They aren’t doing any harm, love. It’s bitter outside, they’re just having a warm.’
She blurted out, ‘Yes, yes, I can appreciate that, but there are other churches they can choose to shelter in. It doesn’t have to be this one, and certainly not during my wedding rehearsal.’ She eyed the vicar imploringly. ‘My parents could arrive at any minute. My father suffers from bad health, and if my mother thought for one second he was at risk of catching anything she would whip him straight back home, rehearsal or no rehearsal. My parents are all the family I’ve got and if that happened I’d have no one to give me away. Surely in the circumstances you can ban the likes of them from coming in here, just while my rehearsal is taking place tonight.’ She fixed her eyes on her fiancé. ‘Can’t we give them some money and tell them to go and have something to eat . . . a bath even, as I can smell them from here? Please, Neil, you have to get rid of them before my parents arrive.’
Despite the distance between them, Jan had heard every word the young woman said and had never felt so humiliated in all her life. She didn’t know where to hide her face. She felt a hand touch her arm, turned and saw Glen telling her with the look in his eyes that it was time for them to go. Her shoe was back on her foot and she was out of the church door and hurrying down the path back to the crossroads before he had even managed to ease himself out of the pew.
Joining her outside, Glen said matter-of-factly, ‘You’re going to have to grow yourself a thicker skin if you want to survive on the streets. That was mild compared to some of the abuse I’ve had to deal with. Wait until the drunks start spilling out of the pubs. There are always more of them towards Christmas.’ Then he turned in the direction they had been heading and continued walking.
Jan looked after him, horrified. It seemed to her nothing could be worse than what she had just endured. The thought of going through that ever again, or worse, was unthinkable. She had to get herself out of this living hell in which she found herself. But how she would manage that without any means at her disposal was as insoluble problem.
CHAPTER THREE
B ack inside the church, Neil Graham, a tall boyish-faced nineteen year old with a short back and sides haircut and a hint of a quiff in front, was looking very pensive. His fiancée, a pretty girl of around eighteen dressed in the height of fashion, in a full red skirt with layers of netting underneath, a wide black belt around her trim waist and a short-sleeved Peter Pan-collared blouse under a pink cardigan with embroidered black flowers down the front, stood deep in conversation with the frustrated-looking vicar, intent on checking that every minute detail of the forthcoming wedding service was dealt with to her satisfaction. Neil gave a deep sigh, a grave expression settling over his face. There was something he had to do, something he should have done a long time ago . . . but each time he thought he had built up the courage, at the last minute it had failed him.
Taking a deep breath, he cupped his fiancée’s elbow and said to her, ‘I need to talk to you, Cait. Now, please.’ Suddenly remembering his manners, he said to the vicar, ‘I do apologise for the interruption.’
The clergyman looked relieved rather than offended, and indicated that there was no problem.
Tossing back her mane of long blond hair,
Suddenly the bride-to-be seemed to sense the presence of others. She turned and looked down the aisle at Glen and Jan, resting in the top pew. On seeing the calibre of the new arrivals, her expression turned to one of absolute horror and she loudly exclaimed, ‘What are those people doing here?’
The vicar looked down the aisle before telling her, ‘This is a church. Everyone is welcome here.’
The soon-to-be bridegroom looked severely embarrassed and said to his fiancée, ‘They aren’t doing any harm, love. It’s bitter outside, they’re just having a warm.’
She blurted out, ‘Yes, yes, I can appreciate that, but there are other churches they can choose to shelter in. It doesn’t have to be this one, and certainly not during my wedding rehearsal.’ She eyed the vicar imploringly. ‘My parents could arrive at any minute. My father suffers from bad health, and if my mother thought for one second he was at risk of catching anything she would whip him straight back home, rehearsal or no rehearsal. My parents are all the family I’ve got and if that happened I’d have no one to give me away. Surely in the circumstances you can ban the likes of them from coming in here, just while my rehearsal is taking place tonight.’ She fixed her eyes on her fiancé. ‘Can’t we give them some money and tell them to go and have something to eat . . . a bath even, as I can smell them from here? Please, Neil, you have to get rid of them before my parents arrive.’
Despite the distance between them, Jan had heard every word the young woman said and had never felt so humiliated in all her life. She didn’t know where to hide her face. She felt a hand touch her arm, turned and saw Glen telling her with the look in his eyes that it was time for them to go. Her shoe was back on her foot and she was out of the church door and hurrying down the path back to the crossroads before he had even managed to ease himself out of the pew.
Joining her outside, Glen said matter-of-factly, ‘You’re going to have to grow yourself a thicker skin if you want to survive on the streets. That was mild compared to some of the abuse I’ve had to deal with. Wait until the drunks start spilling out of the pubs. There are always more of them towards Christmas.’ Then he turned in the direction they had been heading and continued walking.
Jan looked after him, horrified. It seemed to her nothing could be worse than what she had just endured. The thought of going through that ever again, or worse, was unthinkable. She had to get herself out of this living hell in which she found herself. But how she would manage that without any means at her disposal was as insoluble problem.
CHAPTER THREE
B ack inside the church, Neil Graham, a tall boyish-faced nineteen year old with a short back and sides haircut and a hint of a quiff in front, was looking very pensive. His fiancée, a pretty girl of around eighteen dressed in the height of fashion, in a full red skirt with layers of netting underneath, a wide black belt around her trim waist and a short-sleeved Peter Pan-collared blouse under a pink cardigan with embroidered black flowers down the front, stood deep in conversation with the frustrated-looking vicar, intent on checking that every minute detail of the forthcoming wedding service was dealt with to her satisfaction. Neil gave a deep sigh, a grave expression settling over his face. There was something he had to do, something he should have done a long time ago . . . but each time he thought he had built up the courage, at the last minute it had failed him.
Taking a deep breath, he cupped his fiancée’s elbow and said to her, ‘I need to talk to you, Cait. Now, please.’ Suddenly remembering his manners, he said to the vicar, ‘I do apologise for the interruption.’
The clergyman looked relieved rather than offended, and indicated that there was no problem.
Tossing back her mane of long blond hair,
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