Ronald’s Family Xmas

This short story was first published in an anthology called Uncommonalities by Bratum Books

It would have been bad enough without the happiness.

The sunny warmth of his nephew William’s children at Christmas turned Ronald’s stomach.

He loved living on his own in Greater Knucklestead.  His routine was perfected down to the exact minute and even better now he had retired from his job as a nuts and bolts quality controller.

Seven o’ clock up and a brisk walk around the block.  But here with William’s unfettered brood it was all ‘Lets lounge about in our ‘PJs’ until lunchtime. Let’s have a duvet day’ whatever that was!  He was more of a crisp ironed sheet and candlewick bedspread man.

There had been no refusing the invitation to go again this Christmas apparently.  He knew this as he actually refused it, three times.  Then Christmas Eve they had all just turned up, unannounced, uninvited and unwelcome.

He was literally bundled into their car with his intimate toiletries for eczema and the like tossed into his favourite Iceland carrier bag that he had been keeping for the big shop.

They insisted on him sitting in the middle of Daisy and the boy, whatshisname, Zacky or Wacky, something eee, was all he knew. 

‘Besturzen’ he bellowed to stop them pawing him.

Daisy cried and Wacky said ‘What’s that mean Ronald McDonald?’ which for some reason everyone else in the car found hilarious.

‘It means you’re making me indignant.  Sometimes I speak German when I’m anxious or getting cross.  It suits my mood.’

Wacky said ‘You’ll need a happy meal.  That’ll help.’

Ronald felt he had no choice but to put in his pieces of cotton wool that doubled as earplugs and close his eyes.  The children rested their heads on his arms and held both his hands tightly.  Sticky substances of unknown origin glued hot fingers to his palms, then the knees of his going-out trousers.

The car screeched to a juddering halt outside William’s ramshackle house, covered in lights around the roof, windows and garden. Ronald was so blinded he had to shut his eyes and open them one at a time.

Once inside the drama of Christmas Eve unfolded and was interminable.

William’s wife, Dotty, by name and nature, Ronald thought, was rushing about wrapping presents, making food to feed the 5,000 and hugging Daisy and Wacky every two minutes.

He was asked to do jobs.  Jobs!  They wanted him there, the least they could do was to treat him as a guest, so he said so.  Then they all the Ronald McDonald thing and laughed, at least they then left him alone until bedtime.

His room had its own sink but no toilet.  When he gargled he was sure there was more laughing from outside. 

The pyjama toilet etiquette was another problem with is prostate trouble.  He decided to wait until everyone was in bed then rushed in his nightwear only for Daisy to bang on the door just when he had got comfortable.

When he had eventually got settled back in bed he heard a loud laughing in the corridor.  Burglars? So he burst out of his room only to see William dressed up as Father Christmas outside Wacky’s door.

‘William, what are you doing?’ he shouted at which point both children appeared on the landing crying.

‘Uncle Ronald said its Daddy not Santa.  He’s not coming to see us to give us our presents.’  More wailing ensued.

Dotty was much less dotty now and much more bloody mad he would say.  Anyway after the crying stopped which took ages, at least he could sleep.

At six o’clock he was awoken by Daisy and Wacky jumping up and down on his bed.  ‘Santa’s been.  Santa’s been.’

After all the fuss the night before he was very surprised they still believed in all that rubbish but what could you do?

The downstairs was full of presents even on the seat he wanted so he unceremoniously scooped them up and dumped them on the floor. 

Turns out they were his presents.

He wondered if should have returned the favour but too late now.  Some of those gifts he received he had wanted although he thought it best not to say.

The children had so many toys he had trouble getting across the room to the dinner table.  It was full of turkey, stuffings, wine, crackers and Christmas candles.

‘Doesn’t seem right to be eating all of this when children are starving in Africa.’

That made the temperature drop in the room for some reason.  They were all so happy and giving he was surprised they didn’t realise that.

William asked Ronald to go outside after dessert.  He thought it might have been because he warned them about the fire hazard of setting light to the brandy on the Christmas pudding.

They stood well out of the way of the house for some reason, behind William’s garage.

‘You know we’re your only living relatives don’t you Uncle?

‘Yes’ he replied, curious about the deep trench in front of them which at his estimate was 5ft 10 long, his height and the only precise thing he had ever known William to do.