Toni’s Blog

It was starting to get dark outside and as the street light burst into life it shone onto the silver Christmas tree I was decorating.  I smiled happily as I fixed the angel to the top of the tree, then I stood back to admire my handiwork.

A year ago I’d have complained bitterly about having an artificial tree, they couldn’t compare with the real thing.  That beautiful smell of pine that seemed to reach into every corner of the room had always made Christmas special.  But this year I couldn’t have stood it.  The sight and smell of a real tree would have brought back sharp memories of last Christmas - memories I was trying hard to forget.

I shuddered as I thought back to that time, and wondered if the pain of it would ever leave me...

Last Christmas I’d been going out with Terry.  We’d met in the summer soon after I’d left school.  Being on the dole meant I didn’t have any money to go anywhere and I was fed up hanging around the streets with my friends doing nothing day after day.

I’d seen Terry a couple of times at the unemployment office when I’d gone to sign on, we’d got talking one day and suddenly my life was a lot brighter.  Terry was fun to be with and it wasn’t long before we were crazy about each other.  With nothing else to do we saw each other every day, and every evening, too.

We’d meet in the park and wander around for hours.  If it was raining we’d go to a cafe where they didn’t mind you sitting all afternoon with one cup of coffee.  Not that I cared where we went as long as I was with Terry.

I just wished my parents had been as keen on him!

“He’s no good, Michelle,” Dad had moaned when I’d got in one night.  “That type always lands up in trouble, you mark my words.”

“What d’you mean - that type?”  I demanded angrily.

My parents were very good at labelling people, but never actually explaining what they meant.

“You know very well,” came Dad’s stock phrase.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” I replied airily.

Then Mum turned on me.

“Ever since you’ve known that boy you’ve changed, and it’s not for the better Michelle,” she said stiffly.  “You’ve become cheeky and arrogant, I can’t even talk to you these days without you biting my head off.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m bored,” I threw at her.  “How would you like to be stuck on the dole with nothing to do?  Getting turned down for every job you went for.  And it doesn’t help when you constantly criticise my friends.  I’m sick of it!”

I flounced off to my bedroom, my heart thudding with anger at their stuck-up attitude.  What sort of future was there for me?  I still had a whole lifetime to go and I couldn’t see things getting any better.  Having Terry made up for a lot - I just wished I could get my parents to see that...

Naturally the nastier they were about Terry, the more I defended him.  He was exciting, daring, and I loved him.  Yet at the beginning even I’d been a bit worried by some of the things Terry got up to.

Being on the dole meant he never had much money so when he produced a twenty pound note and said we were going out on the town, I wanted to know where the money had come from.

“Nothing illegal,” he told me.  He put his arm round me and steered me towards the taxi rank.  “This mate of mine wanted a new battery for his car, so as I know someone who works in a garage he got me a battery and I sold it to my mate for a slight profit.  It’s called wheeling and dealing, that’s all.”

I’d looked at him suspiciously, but Terry wasn’t put off.

“Trust me, Michelle,” he’d said, kissing me tenderly.  “It’s all for us, so we can enjoy life.”

There were other little fiddles Terry was up to, as well.

Steve, Terry’s friend, came by a dozen sets of wheel trims, and Terry found customers to buy them.  They split the profits and for a couple of days Terry and I had money to go out.  I hadn’t really liked what he was doing, but, as Terry pointed out, no one was getting hurt, were they?  And I was benefiting from it all.

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Christmas Story