Page 1 of A Festive Surprise

Chapter One

Farid

Farid screwed up his eyes and gripped the steering wheel, turning it wildly. An early grave loomed towards those rocky cliffs. He pumped the footbrake, bringing the old pickup truck to a standstill. Back home, on the roads around Daraa with olive trees and sun-baked rocks lining the way, ice wasn’t a problem. But here… different story.

He drew in a deep breath, tugged the gearstick into reverse and backed the truck away from the edge. The wild ocean pounded below. After what he’d been through this year, he was damned if he would let a force of nature get him.

Slowly, he rolled the truck along the bumpy track and over the crest of a hill. A large white house lay below in the untamed landscape. He pulled up outside the building, his hand still shaky. A sleek midnight-black lantern with a scrolled bracket hung above the door. The textured glass panes detailed with leaded diamonds reflected the low sun. He locked the handbrake. No need to mention what had just happened.

‘Between you and me, sadikati.’ He tapped the steering wheel.

He climbed out of the pickup and the wind whipped off the sea. A gust tore past, slamming the door. He leapt sideways just in time. A white-crested breaker roared up and split over the wall at the end of the long garden. Freezing air stung his cheeks and he rubbed his palms together. The crashing beat of the waves and the salty air carried memories. Holidays. Free time. Family. Days from another life. He loosened the straps on the giant tree belted onto the back of the pickup.

After unclipping the last buckle, he shielded his eyes from the sun, so bright yet so cold but it blessed the sea with a rich turquoise hue. Like in Latakia. The landmass rolling around the coast of this island wasn’t dissimilar, but the buildings and trees were very different. Those blue waters could pass for the Mediterranean – colour wise anyway. Farid didn’t fancy taking the temperature test. Imagine even putting a toe into that icy water. Brr. It chilled his blood, sending a shiver coursing through him and he pulled up the collar of his shirt.

Back to the tree. Farid tugged at the giant. Its rough bark chafed against his calloused hands. How to get this into the house? Would it fit? He ran his gaze over the doorway, sizing up the logistics. Monarch’s Lodge was an apt name for this beautiful building. It certainly was fit for a king. But apparently it took its name from a mighty deer that once roamed the grounds. Maybe one day he’d meet such a creature. But right now, the tree. He squinted at it and rolled his shoulders.

‘You must get in there.’ He rubbed his close-trimmed beard. ‘And without prickling me.’ Taking its weight on his shoulder, he dragged it from the pickup and propped it up. No way was he getting this monster inside on his own. He strode up to the front door, dusting pine needles from the red and black checks on his shirt. Pulling up the collar, he held the soft fleece lining to his neck. Luxurious. Possibly brand new. What a long time since he’d had anything this good. He knocked, cocking his head at the mottled windowpane. Music drifted faintly from inside and people laughed. ‘It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year’. The words of the song filtered in and he tried to translate them. His English was reasonable and improving all the time, but the song was too fast to catch the subtleties.

The door opened and a young woman beamed at him with wide red lips. ‘Hi, Farid.’

‘Hi, Georgia.’

‘I didn’t hear the truck.’ Georgia tucked a strand of blonde hair from her tousled bob behind her ear. She and her husband were his new employers. And good people. Thankfully. Georgia’s smile was a permanent fixture and her husband, Archie, was generous. The shirt – and many more new clothes – had come from him. Farid had a home with four walls and a roof, thanks to their kindness.

‘It’s ok. I just arrived.’

‘We had music on. We were dancing.’ Her cheeks glowed and she fanned her face.

‘Nice.’ More than. Blissful in fact. To stop for a moment and dance with someone you love. So simple yet so special.

‘Hello.’ Archie appeared behind Georgia, smiling, and put his hand on her shoulder.

Farid massaged his palm over the left side of his chest, suppressing a growing ache spreading from his lungs to his heart. The empty cavities of his soul craved to be filled with a special person of his own. A real home with no doubts. One that nobody could take or send him away from. He pinched his lips together and looked at his feet. Finding that was like catching stardust. Head down, fit in and survive. Once he’d nailed that, he could work on the details.

‘Is that our tree?’ Archie said.

‘Yes. I can’t lift it alone.’

‘No worries.’ Archie stepped outside, clapping his hands together. ‘It’s bracing out here.’

Georgia followed them and inspected the tree. ‘Oh, I love it. It’ll be perfect in the hall. Can I show you where I want it? Then I have to shoot. I’m setting up Santa’s grotto at The Boat Shack.’

Farid blinked. ‘The what?’

‘Come and see when it’s done,’ Georgia said. ‘It’s magic.’

‘She’ll have you dressed as Santa yet,’ said Archie.

Farid smiled. ‘Years ago, before the bombs, I go to Damascus with many friends. I see a big Christmas tree.’ He raised his hand skyward. How tall and proud it stood in the Christian quarter. ‘What a sight. And the lights.’ He clung to the pictures burned into his memory. Anything of his homeland before the dark days.

‘It sounds beautiful,’ said Georgia.

‘Very. But I still don’t much get this Christmas.’

‘I’ll explain sometime,’ Georgia said. ‘But it could take a while.’

‘Christmas has grown arms and legs since the nativity,’ said Archie.

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