A VERY COLD NIGHT

Not everyone can enjoy the coldest season...

The night was black and icy cold. He knew it would be his last night on Earth … unless… but that was impossible.

Eileen wouldn’t come this way. At the back of his mind he knew why, but that was at the back of his mind and more important things occupied the biggest part of it. Like keeping warm. Tonight.

Bang onto the wall. Brick wall, solid, like a block of ice. Bang on the pavement, concrete, nobbled with icy ridges where young men with wives and kids had trod during the day, rushing with eager brats in tow to Santa and his Christmas market., too cold, and the ice was eating into him.

Why are you wearing shorts on a night like this? “And why haven’t you got some sort of coat? Maybe a thick one with this kind of weather in mine? Or maybe even a thinner one for less brutal weather? A coat out of season, but maybe some comfort

He tried to pull himself into himself, to reduce his surface area so the cold wouldn’t reach it. But that didn’t work. He shivered. And shivered again.

He should be at home with Eileen, but she wasn’t there. He knew that and he would have wept had the icy wind not threatened to freeze his tears and blind him.

“Move on, tramp…” a policemen barked, kicking him as if by accident, “and put some clothes on before you freeze to death…”

I am freezing to death. I truly am. But I ‘m not telling him that or he might try to do something about it. Pick me up and shake some warmth into my bones, maybe. Change the pattern of today. But not take me to Eileen.

Bang on the wall again.

“Now less of that, you old fart, or you’ll have the wall down, and then where would we be?”

When will the copper leave mein peace? Maybe go home to his good lady and whisk her up to bed and have his way with her like policeman bullies might…?

Like I may have done with Eileen last year…

Not that I did anything like bullying her because she would have looked at me down that nose of hers and frowned and told me not to be dirty, not tonight when the baby in Bethlehem is fighting its way out of a virgin womb…

“On your way! You heard me the first time!”

Another voice. “Problems, constable?”

“Sorry sarge, but this old sod, won’t shift and orders are to make sure the streets are clear of scum like this over Christmas.”

“Looks more dead than alive… come on, sir, get along. Go to wherever but don’t stay here ‘cause it might well prove to be the death of you. And, silly bugger, you’re wearing bloody shorts, for goodness’ sake!”

“On my w…” But the words won’t come. On my way to Eileen, but there’s no connection between thinking the words and me saying them. Not enough breath, and the icy cold air, the aching in my bones, even in my jaw bones,

“On your what, soldier?” That was the sergeant, kinder, more mature, but I was never a soldier, I could never be a fighting man with guns… killing like they do… like this freezing wind is killing me…”

Bang my hand on the pavement. How is it that cold stone can hurt so much? And I’m bloody crying, it’s so cold…

“You were an your on your way, was it?”

“To Eileen…” There, I said it! He knows where I’m going! I’ll be with Eileen before dawn if he chooses to help me get there! But if I tell him, if he decides against me seeing Eileen one last time, then where will he take me?

“Best leave him Sarge. Can’t take every down and out into custody or we’ll have no room for all the piss-heads…”

“Constable, it’s the coldest night in a decade or so the forecast says, and this is one of your family!”

He’s wrong, of course, there are no coppers in his family, but he gets what the sergeant means…

“”What you reckon, Sarge?”

“I mean, an old guy in shorts? Whatever next? Come along, fellow, I’m parked up here, I’ll take you to a nice warm cell, be there in ten, and if you’re lucky we might find a cuppa for you.”

But no Eileen?

“No,” he protests, “Saint Jude’s graveyard, where Eileen lies and sleeps… I want to be with her at last…”

But he was taken to the police station where it was warm inside, and even given a pair of old trousers to put on, someone had left them and even though they smelt faintly of piss they were warm now that he didn’t need warm.

“Eileen,” he muttered to anyone who might want to hear, “I’m warm and they won’t let me die… I’m so sorry…”

© Peter Rogerson 04.12.24

xxx

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

I wasn't expecting something cheerful with that title, but man this made me cry. I know what it's like to be alone during Christmas, and I sympathize, desperately wanting someone who isn't there anymore. Jeez I'm a mess, I have to go blow my nose now. Thank you for sharing this