A World Apart

Deck the Halls

Over the next fortnight, I settled back into my old routine, it was dull and tedious in comparison to the months I'd spent in a beautiful and vibrant land where every minute was an opportunity to make a memory doing something fun and spectacular, but it was normality, and there was some sense of comfort to that, to the knowledge that I was no longer running or hiding.

"Are you planning on turning green and whiskery at some point over the next few days?" Dana asked, leaving her room and padding barefooted through the living room.

"What are you on about?"

"Well," She said lifting a leg up onto the arm of the sofa and perching on top of it, "Christmas is in a couple of days now, and this place still doesn't have so much as a single bauble in sight. I was just wondering if you were becoming the new Grinch."

"What's to stop you from putting up some decorations?" I retorted, rolling my eyes as I scanned the pages of my magazine.

"Maybe the fact that this isn't my place," She replied as though stating the obvious. "I just think that it would be good for you, you've always loved Christmas, get the old Charisma up and about, glam the place up, maybe have a party like you used to."

"No to the party," I replied with little interest. "The decorations... maybe."

She snatched the magazine from my hands.

"Ow! Ever heard of papercuts?" I snapped.

"Get dressed."

I arched a brow at her, gesturing to her pyjamas.

"Not the point," She replied, "We're going out, we've got our work cut out if we wanna get this place done before Christmas Day."

She practically shoved me out of the sofa, chivvying me along until I was in my room.

"Might wanna wrap up, they said it might snow later," Dana called through the bedroom door.

We ventured from store to store for hours, buying up enough Christmas supplies for the next decade. We were overladen with bags of everything from trees, to decorations, to food and everything in between.

"Why didn't we bring the car?" Dana remarked as we cut through the small Christmas market on our way home, snagging on a stall as we passed.

"Because I thought we'd be buying a normal amount," I groaned, struggling to navigate around a bench and a sea of people. "Right, that's it," I snapped, dumping my bags at my feet. It's about another ten minutes to walk home, and this is just too much stuff. I'm calling a car, there's a car park on the other side of that coffee cart, we can meet there and go back."

"Good idea," Dana panted, detangling herself from the edge of the bench, losing a few flecks of tinsel in her fight as she put her bags beside mine.

I called for the car and was gathering my bags when I heard a familiar laugh. I turned around, and that's when I saw her.

Tina.

She was walking by with Gill, the pair of them looking brighter and happier than I'd ever seen them, bundled up against the cold in identical coats, added layers of hats, gloves and scarfs were protecting them from the bitter chill as they browsed the stalls. It was wonderful to see them, and I was delighted by the noticeable difference in the pair since before I left.

"What is it?" Dana asked, following my line of sight.

"Nothing," I said quickly, scrambling to load the bags into my hands.

She didn't appear to believe me but hastened to help me anyway. She was just looping the last handle over her wrist when my name was called across the market: