Glass & Roses (BBC Ghosts)

|xiv|

The Ghost Of Christmas

Christmas is a time for joy and family- oh what's that? The sleazy uncle turned up and is getting too close to the children? Oh very well. Christmas, although one of desired joy and family, can sometimes be quite the opposite; between the forced church sermons to the scummy uncle that always ends up half dressed and drunk, it's not always what they want you to believe. This is true for much of life, nothing is exactly as it seems, but it is important to find the good moments. Between the squabbling children there are moments of bliss, perhaps a kiss under the mistletoe or the pulling of crackers over a gorgeous Christmas dinner or the peaceful silent as the family crowded around the TV for one of many Christmas films.

"Oh, what's he doing now?" Pat asked, rushing over to see the recipe book Mike had set up. "Yes! He's doing the spuds in beef dripping. Oh-ho! He knows his onions." He shrugged. "Potatoes."

"Are you ready for this?" Alison called.

"Hell, yeah." Mike took off his apron.

"Here she comes." Kitty squealed.

"I should warn you, it's very sexy."

"Sexy?" Thomas popped out of the wall at the word. Alison came into the kitchen, wearing a tacky Christmas jumper with a reindeer on it.

"Merry Christmas Eve. Honk. Crrring." She looked up at Mike, taking in what he was wearing. "Aw, Mike, that's not very Christmassy."

"It's got a reindeer on it." He defended

"I think you look wonderful, Alison." Kitty complimented.

"You look like a firework." Pat added.

"Oh, thanks, guys." Alison beamed.

"The ghosts are here, are they? I get it. Admiring the master at work, yeah?" Mike asked, picking up the tray to pop in the oven.

"He's burnt the custard. Twice." Fanny informed her.

"And he's washed all the flavour out of the turnips as well." Mary pointed.

"I'm a kitchen wizard." Mike said, oblivious to what the ghosts were saying.

"Yeah, kind of."

"This Christmas is going to be so perfect, it's going to be like an advert for Christmas. Look at my Christmas master plan." He gestured to the whiteboard. "It's amazing right?" Alison gasped. "It's all planned out, so Mum and Dad can relax. You know what they're like - always trying to do everything. Not this time."

"Excellent planning, Michael." Captain admired the board. "Oh, the things I could have done with a whiteboard."

"Gah, humbug!" Julian complained.

"Not a fan of Christmas, Julian?" Alison asked.

"Hmm? Oh no, I'm just saying there's a jar of humbugs here."

"Oh."

"Also, I'm not a fan of Christmas."

"Really?"

"Well, it's just not the same when you're dead. Can't drink booze, can't flirt with the fillies at the office Christmas party. If you can't do that, what's the point?" He complained. "Going to my room. Wake me up when it's all over."

"Do you think I could jump start his moving on if I smothered him in his sleep?" Lucille questioned.

"Luce." Pat warned, adjusting his glasses. "I suppose he does have a point. I mean, don't get me wrong, you know, I still get a tingle in me dingle on Christmas Eve, but um... it is hard, with the memories of what you had."