Page 31 of Stuck With My Christmas Crush

“He really does,” says Maddie rolling her eyes as if my care and attention are things she must endure.

I check around the gramophone and test that nothing is about to fall off. I check the stylus, which looks secure and ready to go. I gently spin the turn table, which moves with surprising ease.

“Seems fine. Maddie. Would you be so kind as to wind the handle?”

Maddie nods graciously and I pick her up so she can reach.

“Wait a minute,” says Charlie. “What are we going to listen to? What records do we have?”

“Ah. Good point.” I put Maddie back down on her feet.

“And maybe…” Charlie is at my side. “Do you have something to clean it off first so dust doesn’t ruin the record? A rag or a cloth. A tea towel, maybe?”

“Sure.” I hurry to the reception desk in the hallway where I left a bucket of cleaning products, cloths, and sponges. When I come back, Charlie has pulled out one of the vinyl records from its sleeve. She studies the label.

“This is what people used to play music on before there was Spotify,” she tells Maddie who is enthralled.

“No way.”

“Yes.” Charlie nods and smiles at the little girl. “This is extremely clever and you’re going to love it.” Charlie reads the label out loud. “Duke Ellington. He was famous. Right up there.” She puts the record carefully back in its sleeve and repositions it on the shelf, then pulls out another disc in a tatty cover. “This one. Oh my.” She puts a hand on her chest. “It’s so great. Bing Crosby.” Charlie looks with reverence at the faded label showing through a circular hole in the protective paper sleeve. “Do you know it? ‘White Christmas’.”

Charlie’s eyes shine. I am mesmerized. How could I refuse her anything? She holds my gaze before Maddie says, “Are we going to play some music or just stand around staring at each other?”

I carefully use a damp cloth to wipe the surfaces free from dust. Then, Charlie slides the disc out of its sleeve and places it on the turn table. She steps aside as I lift Maddie up so she can turn the handle. But it’s too stiff for Maddie to crank, so I ask Charlie to help out and put Maddie down on her feet.

Finally, Charlie cranks the handle four or five times.

“I hope it’s not broken,” she says.

“Nothing’s happening,” says Maddie with a perfect upside-down smile.

“Oh, what about taking the brake off?” Charlie says, reaching for a shiny metal bar close to the turn table. It clicks as she pushes it to the side and the record begins to spin.

“Ah,” exclaims Maddie. “It’s magic.”

Charlie lowers the arm with the stylus onto the revolving disc. It crackles and hisses and then we hear the orchestral introduction.

The music sounds wobbly and there’s a lot of interference but, somehow, the lack of clarity adds to the listening experience, and I feel as if I’m transported back in time.

There isn’t enough power in the motor to finish playing the record and Bing Crosby’s voice gets deeper and slower as the turn table slurs to a stop. Charlie carefully lifts the arm clear of the record.

“Well, thanks for that. It’s a wonderful piece of history, isn’t it?”

“Wonderful,” says Maddie dreamily.

“And it doesn’t need electricity to work,” says Charlie. “You just wind the handle. It would’ve been great to have this in your house when we were stuck in the storm, Jason.”

Memories of being snowed in with Charlie flood my mind, but they are quickly replaced with a deep longing to be snowed in with Charlie again. For longer this time. With a gramophone and a stack of old romantic 78s.

Chapter 16

Charlie

Maddie didn’t seem surprised to see me at all. But the look on Jason’s face when he spotted me through the window is something I’ll remember forever. The warmth in his smile when his eyes met mine. Then, he was bashful and looked away. I could tell he was trying to be cool, but he was clearly flustered. In a good way.

Stepping in through the patio door of the old Mansion Hotel was pure magic. Just like stepping back in time. Dust sheets cover the furniture and pictures, but I gettingles at the grandeur of the place that hasn’t changed in decades.

I can appreciate how Jason is overwhelmed by the task of getting it ready for sale. He doesn’t want to be here and he’s making it hard work for himself. But I sensed that when we got the gramophone going and played ‘White Christmas’, he relaxed and even seemed to enjoy getting the old machine working for his little niece. The moment felt like heaven.

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