| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) 19:36 - Dec 24 with 2133 views | Warkystache |
So it all comes down to the next three days.
Presents wrapped (in my case, badly) and placed carefully under our real tree, lights and baubles tinkling and the needles being hoovered up hourly, though it gets a Lucozade bottle-full of water every time either of us remembers. Still, it's from Morrisons. Paula secreted one out. Must have been the runt of the litter. It barely reaches my forehead. She says she paid a fiver to the staff kitty. That's the price of a Big Mac these days. I bet the burger lasts longer as well...
It's been an odd sort of day. Tel rang me at seven-thirty am, driving to Braintree to drop presents off to Tony, Sandy and the kids. One of the kids has Covid, so they're persona non grata this year. He sounded muffled on the phone, and I wondered if he was dressed in full Hazmat suit and gas mask, just in case. "Bleedin' traffic on the A120 near Coggeshall's a bleedin' joke" he muttered as he bibbed someone or something. "Gerroutofit yer tit!" he snarled. "Still there?" he rejoined. "Sorry, iss stoopid 'our agen. These twots drive like bleedin' Stevie Wonder with his crotch smoulderin'". Then his phone cut out and I got the beeps to say we'd lost contact.
When he came back on, he was more conciliatory. "Lissen, we'll pick yer bofe up at eleven tomorrow, bring yer booze an' yer lovely lady, don't forget 'er. We're lunchin' at two, I've defrosted the turkey crown an' the missus is doin' the spuds an' the brussels an' the collie an' the parsnips. We 'ad a bit of a disaster wiv the pud, so we'll 'ave the one from Tesco's".
I asked him to pass on my best wishes to Tone and Sandy and he said "Nice one. 'Opin' I don't get that close in all 'onesty, s'like the plague innit? At least they're givin' us stuff they wrapped last week".
I reminded him it was Paula's mum later today and he went quiet for a bit, then he said" Oh" unenthusiastically and then said "No suddern movements, don't look too much at 'er piss-bag fingy an' don't b'lieve a word if she menshuns me an' that trip to Sarfend in 1988. She's bleedin' obsessed abart it an' it cou'n'a 'appened anyway cos I 'ad shingles an' thass the last fing yer'd want wiv shingles". Then he said "See ya tomorra matey, gotta go 'cos the wife's just text me abart Freeport" and he was gone.
Paula got up at 8.30am, just as I was debating waking her or letting her sleep. She worked late last night and wasn't due back until the Tuesday next week. She came home at 11pm, her 'Secret Santa' pressies and the present her boss bought her in a Morrisons Bag for Life. She flitted from the bedroom to the shower room like some bird in Minder, naked, clutching her towel like a shield. I smiled as she blew me a kiss and then remembered the little square box I'd wrapped. It cost me a fortune; nearly half my savings from 25 years of full-time work. It'd be the biggest and most expensive Christmas gift I'd ever given. And she'd unwittingly chosen it for me.
We had a lazy, expansive breakfast and then got ready for the trip to see her Mum. We were leaving early to drop pressies at my parents, who wouldn't see us until Monday. My dad answered the door wearing his Santa hat and a festive jumper. My mum and Paula kissed and then disappeared for coffee in their kitchenette. My dad said simply "So pleased for you, son. She's a keeper. Lovely girl. Wish you'd met years ago" and I felt the prickle of tears in the corners of the old peepers and the tell-tale lump rising. Then he said "D'you know how to make stuffing?" and it all dissolved, like magic.
We left at twelve. At least one of us felt like the condemned being carted off to the guillotine. But there was no angry mob or rough-housing, just endless streets filled with the remnants of fog and sadly-sparkling Christmas decorations in windows. We managed to park near Paula's mum's place and reached in the back for the big felt stocking bag (Morrisons) filled with gifts for her mum, sister and the carers.
The door was opened after we'd had a chance to hear the doorbell play the first few notes of 'Ding Dong Merrily on High'. Then a woman in a blue tabard appeared, like the shopkeeper in Mr Benn, and sidled aside to let us in. This was Corrine, the day-carer. We wore our face-masks and greeted each other in tonal grunts.
She led us through to the back lounge, through a cream hallway that smelt of cleaning fluids and coffee. There sat Paula's Mum ("call me Caff, love, we're nearly family") dressed in what could best be described as 'White-older-woman-does-Snoop-Dogg', a sort of white tracksuit top and bottoms, all made of fluffy material, with the words 'Mad Chrimbo Bitch' in diamante on the front. She was sat in her best wheelchair. I presume it was her best, because it had tinsel wound round the arms and a big red sparkly cushion and throw which she sat on.
It was cagey to start with. Paula removed her mask and kissed her in greeting. I remembered to remove mine as I came forward for my turn. She kissed me on the lips. They were drier than, and here the thought just snuck into my head, her minge must be, and cold as marble. Again....
I sat next to Paula on the settee opposite. It creaked alarmingly for a second as if in protest. Yet Corrine must have sat in the same seat and she had an arse the size of the back end of a dinghy. Then I thought 'just roll with it".
"Ow's my little gel then" said Paula's mum. Paula and she chatted, mostly about how good her mum looked, which was stretching it a bit by any standards, but I was determined not to be uncharitable on this Christmas Eve. I then joined in and everything went spiffingly for a few minutes; her mum and Corrine both laughed at my little jokes and Corrine went out to pour the coffee with me offering help. "Ooo 'es lovely'n' strong, innee?" she announced to the room as I staggered back with the cups on a tray. "Yer'aint picked a wrong-un 'ere, 'ave yer Pee? Yer wanna be careful or ah'll nick 'im off yer!" and they all chortled, even though the barest fact was that I'm probably closer in age to Corrine than 'Pee".
We sat drinking coffee and chatting inconsequentially. I was dying to ask her mum about Southend in 1988, but the chance didn't come for a while. She told me about her carers, the day ones (Corrine and a girl called Nancy who'd gone home for Christmas and wouldn't be back until Monday) and slagged Nancy off a bit in her absence. "Bloody lazy that one, still, she's gotta'eart'a'gold in't she Corry? Does all me laundry an' that, no complaint on 'er" and the night ones, who passed without comment. I found myself transfixed upon the tube, covered by her track bottoms, which snaked alarmingly from somewhere in her crotch region and then out the side of her chair to a sparkly, covered bag. This sloshed when the chair moved, not loudly, bit like your stomach when you've drunk too much beer and then run for a bus or something. It reminded me of having a Boa Constrictor round my neck at the zoo when I was a nipper.
They served a buffet lunch. Cold supermarket-own (think it was Asda) chicken drumsticks, little bowls of dips, crisps on a plate, a salad selection and sausage rolls, nice ones, warmed in the oven and oozing something pickle-y. We helped ourselves to paper plates and took what we wanted. I ate two drumsticks. Then Paula's mum said to Corrine "Fink I need an empty, love" and she was wheeled out to a fanfare of what sounded like bathwater being splashed by a foot. The bag was unscrewed out of sight in the toilet and then emptied down the bog. I decided to ditch the three-quarter eaten remnants of my last drumstick. I also suddenly fancied a slash.
We exchanged pressies. Ours were wrapped carefully, with bows and tags, by Paula herself. Her mum's were bagged in festive bags, still in their boxes. "Thass the warter filter an' this is the Tassomatic fingy, erm, makes coffee, like. Yer'll bofe need a filter cos the warter rounder's 'arder than a rapists cock". I smiled at the unattractive simile and placed the bags next to us.
We talked on. I checked my watch and it was half-three. It seemed years since we'd entered the house. Paula's mum even went to sleep at one point, leaving us chatting to Corrine, who was a nice enough person, but two sticks short of a bonfire. She showed us her new tattoo. "Got this dun last week, well'appy wiv it I was, the bloke's got me in again on Thursdy to shade it all at the back. Cost me two 'undred but iss me pressie from me son, Scott; 'e's in the army". It was a rose and brambles, curling round her bicep up to her shoulder. We clearly made the right noises, because then she showed us her bare back where she had her son's name in Ye Olde English and his date of birth in bright blue lettering.
Just as I was worrying she had one on her arse as well, Paula's mum woke up and we chatted again. I still couldn't bring up the subject of Southend '88, but then I mentioned Terry's name and she brightened. "Oh Tel, yeah, 'e was a lad back in the day". I skilfully managed to develop the discussion, getting looks from Paula which said "don't go there", but she happily reminisced. "'E was a lad, real man back in the day. I liked 'er, 'is wife, n'all, lovely couple they are. Tel was always chattin' up the lady punters in 'is news shop, but yer noo 'e'd never act on anyfing. Devoted to 'is wife. 'Ere Corry, you know Tel don'tcher?". Corrine nodded, smiling like a child. "Ooh yeah, Tel, 'e's so luvly. "Elped write my Scott's army applicashun that time. Coun't do enuff forrus".
Paula said it was time to go and she rose and kissed her mum goodbye and kissed Corrine and I did the same. As I was kissing her mum goodbye she held on to me. Paula and Corrine went out to the kitchen to put the crockery out. She looked me in the eye and whispered "Look after my baby, won'tcher. I won't say yer not who I 'oped she'd end up wiv, but Tel and his missus really love ya and thass good enough fer me. Just don' 'urt 'er agen, like that little snide bastard Blake". And I said to her 'Did you not like Blake either?' surprised, and she smiled bitterly and looked to see that Paula was out of earshot, then she whispered "Nah. She was too good fer the likes of that little scrote, wot wiv 'is eyes all snakes'n'that. It woz you she always really loved, just the timing was off, wunnit?" And I kissed her more tenderly than I ever thought I would and she smiled up at me and said "You're the one for her" very simply and for the second time the tears nearly happened again.
And then I whispered "Southend 1988?" and she looked at me with wide-open eyes and said "I weren't in Sarfend in 1988!" and I started to say 'Tel told me...' and she looked more assured and then half-closed her eyes and said "E 'ad the bleedin' shingles din't 'e? I told 'im 'yer shouldn't 'ave come' but he fancied a day drinkin' wivout 'is missus, cos she'd 'ave nagged 'im not to. So he got pissed easier than normal an' wet 'imself on the coach 'ome. Yer should'a seen it. Laugh? I fought I'd never stop". And she smiled at the memory and winked at me, and that wink was a veritable Pandora's Box, and I felt I'd gained an ally as well as a prospective Mother-in-Law.
And so we're home and Paula's watching The Repair Shop and I'm out here pretending I'm working on something for work, and tomorrow seems a lifetime away, and yet tomorrow, hopefully, will be filled with joy, love, friendship and a new, official union. Which, when you think back to Christmases past, is almost unthinkable. A bit like Tel on that coach out of Southend in '88, I'm wetting myself in anticipation of all of it.
See you soon - Have a wonderful Christmas wherever and in whatever shape you're in. Thank you all for believing in me when I never really believed in myself!
Warky - 24/12/2021 xxxxx
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 19:50 - Dec 24 with 2071 views | nodge_blue |
Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a pretty good writer. Have a good Christmas. |  |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 19:57 - Dec 24 with 2058 views | runaround |
Happy Christmas Warky |  | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:18 - Dec 24 with 2015 views | Bent_double |
Thanks for all the wonderful Warky reports over the past year, it's the only thing that makes supporting Ipswich bearable! |  |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:24 - Dec 24 with 1998 views | The_Romford_Blue |
Merry Christmas Warky. Thanks for another great year of Warky Reports. |  |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:24 - Dec 24 with 1993 views | J2BLUE |
Wow. Great stuff. Whatever mood i'm in your reports always make me laugh out loud. Thank you and Merry Christmas.
I would wish you luck for tomorrow but it sounds like it would be wasted. It's destiny. Congratulations mate. |  |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:36 - Dec 24 with 1975 views | Warkystache |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:24 - Dec 24 by J2BLUE |
Wow. Great stuff. Whatever mood i'm in your reports always make me laugh out loud. Thank you and Merry Christmas.
I would wish you luck for tomorrow but it sounds like it would be wasted. It's destiny. Congratulations mate. |
Thanks all - feel like I've got you all on my side when it happens tomorrow night!
I'll let you know the outcome on Boxing Day (when/if I make it out of bed!!!). | |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:38 - Dec 24 with 1970 views | Ftnfwest |
All the best to you both and merry Xmas pal |  | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 21:04 - Dec 24 with 1927 views | hype313 |
Merry Christmas Warky, your reports have been the highlight of yet another damp squib of a season, got us all through some dark moments.
Hopefully you find writing them as cathartic as we do reading them, and my missis often says to me "What are you laughing at" Haven't got the heart/balls to say I'm reading the male version of Jilly Cooper.
Keep it going, sounds as if things are really ramping up... |  |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 21:20 - Dec 24 with 1915 views | brogansnose |
The best bit of being on TWTD's.
Warky, you're the best and all the best buba. |  | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 21:23 - Dec 24 with 1908 views | XYZ |
TWTD's very own soap.
Have a good one Warky! |  | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 22:00 - Dec 24 with 1850 views | Westover |
Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you both and thanks for your wonderful posts 🌲👠| | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 23:30 - Dec 24 with 1704 views | EdwardStone |
I love Warky Reports sooo much |  | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 00:00 - Dec 25 with 1662 views | Eireannach_gorm |
Nice one Warky. That future mother in law visit was the best Christmas present you could get.
Have a happy and peaceful one. [Post edited 25 Dec 2021 0:13]
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 00:48 - Dec 25 with 1603 views | BanksterDebtSlave |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 00:00 - Dec 25 by Eireannach_gorm |
Nice one Warky. That future mother in law visit was the best Christmas present you could get.
Have a happy and peaceful one. [Post edited 25 Dec 2021 0:13]
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Just read it out to Miss Slave, the first act of Christmas since she got in from her sister's. At the end she says..."he's gunner ask her int he!"...there's no flies on her I tell you!
Merry Christmas Warky, hope she likes the handbag. xx |  |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 09:17 - Dec 25 with 1399 views | blueboyd |
you are a top lad, Merry Christmas to you and yours. | | | |
| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 20:11 - Dec 25 with 1220 views | BanksterDebtSlave |
We're starting to get a bit nervy now over our way Warky. Don't slur your words!! Miss Slave is expecting an invite. | |
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| The Warky Report: Christmas Eve (H & A) on 22:37 - Dec 25 with 1124 views | witchdoctor |
very merry xmas mate…first one of many for you and P…so pleased for you..ðŸ˜x |  | | |
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