CHAPTER 29: The Virgin’s Christmas, Part 1

The car pulls up at the station, a station-wagon, my Master smiling from the driver’s seat and Michael waving enthusiastically.

I have not been waiting long, but it seems like ages. I have been looking forward to this Christmas meeting. It is after all our first Christmas together, and although I can only fit in a single night, between visiting other family and friends, I want it to be special for all of us.

Without a clue, as to what to buy either of them as a present, I have decided to make myself the gift and have dressed with this in mind.

Having red hair, it is not easy to wear red in my clothes, so I am wearing a bright green skirt and top, set off with red accessories; bracelets, belt and shoes. A matching green cape trimmed with fur leaves me feeling particularly Christmassy. I do not have to be modest. I know that I look striking as I stand, waiting, outside the station.

My Master steps out of the car and Michael almost bounces out, sweeping me into his arms and giving me a long, enthusiastic kiss before remembering himself and stepping back to allow my Master to greet me.

My Master is more circumspect, lifting my hand to kiss the fingers. “Charlotte. It’s lovely to see you. Michael has talked about nothing else since your phone call last week.”

He takes both my hands, standing back to look at me. “You look marvellous. Charlotte.” He winks. “Good enough to eat.”

Michael says nothing, but the look in his eyes is beyond admiring. He looks almost adoring. but the last time we met, Michael’s parting words, were to say that he loves me.

My Master, I know, does not love me, which is just as well. Our relationship could become simply too complicated. He is though, my ever-caring Master, and I know that I can trust him utterly.

“So where are we going?” I ask, like a kid asking for candy. “What are we going to do?”

My Master grins wickedly. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re going to enjoy our evening together.”

“Where? What?”

“I’ve booked the lodge up in the mountains again,” he grins. “But this time I’ve arranged that it will be decked up for Christmas when we get there.”

“Christmas tree?” I ask, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Yup.”

“Log fire? Candles?”

“Yup.”

“Mince pies and crackers?”

“Yes, and Michael has packed up a few treats into the back of the wagon here.” Michael beams at this, looking smug.

I look again at the vehicle. “That’s not your usual car, is it? I don’t remember you driving a station wagon.”

“No, not usually, but the weather forecast isn’t all that good. I thought if we’re going up the mountains, we’d go in something with four-wheel drive and a decent engine, just in case the snow comes down.”

Squinting up at the brilliant sunshine in a peerless blue sky, this does not seem very likely, but I am not about to argue about it. Changing the subject, I turn to Michael. “So, what are these ‘treats’ you have packed up.”

Michael seldom says much, but always, his eyes speak volumes. Eyes slightly cast down, but smiling, he simply says “Wait and see.”

“Come on,” says my Master, rubbing his arms with his hands. “Snow or not, it’s a bit brisk just standing here. Let’s get going.”

The three of us pile into the cab of the wagon, with me in the middle, sandwiched between the two men. It feels like coming home.

Above us is a matchless vault of blue, and the sun is warm. Driving through and out of the city, nothing seems less likely than bad weather, but as we get out into the countryside there is the sparkle of frost on grass, and leafless trees stand silhouetted naked against the sunlit sky.

Up into the mountains, and the weather is colder. Climbing up into the pine forests, the firs are coated with a thick rime and the car crunches over ice-rimmed puddles. A little further along the route and there is patchy snow on the ground, still sparkling in the sunshine.

But now, the clouds gather and lower, becoming darker, more threatening. Fat snowflakes begin to splat onto the windscreen. At first, they melt, to be swept away by the wipers, but as we drive further along the now, rough track, they stick and stay, simply being pushed to one side by the wipers, gathering on the bonnet before melting away from the heat of the engine. Ahead of us, the track vanishes under a deepening white layer.

My Master smiles at me reassuringly. “Nearly there now. It’s only about another five miles.”

But as he speaks, the wind is beginning to wail and the snow falls ever thicker. Our headlights simply reflect back from the white-out ahead of us, and as my Master drops into four-wheel drive, I hear the engine crank up harder.

Michael, with worry in his voice, “James...”

“I know. I know,” mutters my Master. “I’m sorry Charlotte. But I think we should turn around. We’re so close now, but it’s becoming dangerous, and I’m not even sure I would see the turnoff to the lodge. We could drive right past it in these conditions.”

“That’s alright,” I say. “There will be other times. We’ll stay in the city somewhere overnight. A hotel perhaps. We can still enjoy ourselves together.”

“That’s my Girl,” he grins. And he starts to pivot the steering wheel to turn around.

The wheels screech and spin, but the car goes nowhere. He reverses gear and tries again, with the same result. Around us, the snow howls by in a full-fledged blizzard. Night is falling, and visibility is close to zero.

“Looks like we need some help.” My Master taps a number on his phone and after a moment says “Bob? Yes? It’s James here. We’re trying to get to you, but we’re stuck in the snow. I don’t think we can make it, but we can’t get out either. Any idea on what’s happening out there?” He nods occasionally, listening to the voice on the other end. “Yes... Yes? Oh, right... Thanks anyway, Bob. Yes, we’ll stay in contact. No, we’re alright. We have plenty in the car to stay warm with, food, blankets and such.”