The Gift of Girls

Chapter Fourteen: Paul

During the past few days, I felt like a total Grinch. Normally I'm all for Christmas and the holiday season, but my terrible experience with Polly was constantly playing on my mind. I couldn't focus on anything else - except feeling miserable.

I woke up early on Christmas Eve and went for a little wander around the flat. Sometimes if I up way before seven I'll peep in at everyone while they're asleep. Ringo's bedroom was closest to my own. He always sleeps curled up in a neat little ball (or, if he's in a weird mood, upside down with his feet resting on the pillow). He never likes to admit it but he has a cuddly toy panda that he sleeps with every night, but it's small enough to hide in the palm of his hand. John gives Ringo a rough time about his panda, but I think it's a little endearing.

John doesn't sleep curled up and he certainly doesn't have any cuddly toys. He lies flat on his back with his arms flung out and his feet sticking out of the duvet. There's an awful stench of old socks so i don't linger long. He'd be furious if he knew I peeked in at him. (John often sleeps in his underwear. How do I know this? One time he'd kicked the duvet right off and I saw him lying there, bare and ridiculous.)

George sometimes sleeps in his underwear too, but he has silky boxer shorts that cover him modestly enough; not gungy old Y-fronts like John. Serenity sleeps in a cot at the end of George's bed. She's wears pretty pink toweling suits with a little pink dummy to match. She makes sweet little sucking noises every now and then. I had to resist the urge to pick her up and give her a cuddle that particular morning.

I tiptoed into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. I was dying for a cup of tea, even at that ludicrous hour. I sat myself down at the table and stared into the darkness, feeling drowsy and miserable. The room was silent; only the clock ticking away on the wall was audible. Everything else was deathly silent.

I don't know how long I sat there. All I remember is sitting alone in the dark, smoking ciggie after ciggie while my thoughts throbbed inside my mind. Before I knew it the sun was peeking through the kitchen curtains, falling on my face and making me blink.

"Switch that light off, for God's sake," I mumbled, but the sun ignored me and kept on shining. 

Everyone else in the flat started stirring. I could hear John's snores quieting down; Ringo's bed springs were creaking more as he tossed and turned; Serenity's soft snuffles turned into loud, mournful sobs; George groaning as he got up to comfort her.

I realized that the kettle had been boiled for a little while now, and I hadn't made any effort to pour it. I flung a teabag into a  mug and poured the hot water. Then I had a peek into the fridge to look for some milk.

"No milk," I mumbled, staring at the pathetically bland contents of the fridge. 

It was still extremely early, but I was desperate for a cup of tea. I swapped my dressing gown for the jacket hanging on the coat rack and made my way out of the flat, down the stairs and into the main corridor. The entire block of flats was quiet; no one was awake or bustling around. It was very peaceful.

There are only a few people who are up and about so early in the morning: teenagers lurking in the corridors, businessmen rushing off to work, Asian ladies in their pretty clothes, the maintenance man cleaning windows or fixing light bulbs. I was a bit shy of them at first, but after a few early morning encounters we began to nod to each other. I frequently chatted to them as well.

This morning in particular was different. No one was stirring in the corridor or the main entrance, except for one young girl sitting at the bottom of the stairs, looking dejected. She was awfully pretty,  blonde hair with blue crystal eyes. From the neck up, she looked like the sort of girl who would spend her weekend dancing at the local hop and could win a beauty pageant with her eyes shut, but things started to go a bit weird from the neck down.

She wasn't wearing a pretty floral-print frock like I would expect from such a girl. She was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, black boots and a huge leather jacket that looked about two sizes too big for her. She was hunched up in a ball, knees tucked up under her chin. She glanced up and caught me staring.

"What are you looking at?" she said crossly.

"Nothing," I replied. "I mean, I was just... I, uh..."

"Save it," said the girl. "I don't mind. Stare all you like."

"Oh." That was all I could muster for the moment. I put my head on one side and examined her properly. Her mascara was slightly streaked and running down her cheeks in snail trails.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" I asked delicately.

"What?"

"I said, are you all right? You look... very sad."

The girl quickly wiped her face, smearing her eye makeup even more. "If you must know," she said between wipes, "my boyfriend just kicked me out of our home. I've been looking around for a place to stay, so I came here."

"Oh, my," I said, shocked. "That's awful."

"Tell me about it," she said, rolling her eyes. "I don't care anymore. He was a git."

"He sounds like a git, kicking out a pretty young lady like yourself."

The blonde girl stared at me like I'd said the worst curse word known to man, then she burst out laughing. I felt a bit better knowing I'd made her smile.

"What's your name, kid?" she asked, chuckling.

"Paul," I replied. "What's yours?"

"Julianna."

"What a lovely name!"

Julianna smirked. "Thanks." 

"So, how long have you been here?" I inquired.

She shrugged. "A couple of days. What about you?"

I thought for a moment. "A long time. We've been in a lot of places, but -"

"We?" Julianna interrupted. "Who's we?"

"Oh, I live with a few of my friends," I explained. "We're in a singing group." 

"That's cool. I love music."

"So do I."

Our conversation dwindled into silence. We were left speechless, staring into each other's eyes, utterly enchanted. Julianna was such a nice girl and very pretty; she seemed to lovely to be real. I began to wonder if fate had brought us together. I had recently gotten out of a failed relationship, Julianna had left her boyfriend. Maybe us meeting was a sign of some sort.

I decided to take a terrible risk.

"Julianna?" I said, breaking the silence.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to sound horribly straightforward and pushy, but would -"

"Wait," said Julianna."Are you asking me out?"

I could feel my cheeks burning. I mumbled something, hoping it didn't sound foolish.

"I'd love to," Julianna said, smiling brightly.

"Oh, wow!" I gushed. "That's wonderful. Thank you!"

"No problem."

I paused for a moment. "Julianna?"

"Yes, Paul?"

"How would you like to go on a date right now?"

Julianna raised an eyebrow. "I suppose so. Where to?"

I bowed low and held my hand out in a courtly fashion. "Would you accompany me, fair lady, on a glorious outing to the corner shop? I shall buy all the sweets and chocolates your lovely little heart desires."

Julianna laughed again and took my hand. "I accept your invitation, my fair gentleman."

So we went off together, her and I, hand in hand. I arrived back at my flat with a bottle of milk, a mended heart and a huge smile on my face. Call me old-fashioned and soppy, but I think meeting Julianna could be considered a Christmas miracle. (Well, Christmas Eve miracle.)

No more Grinchiness for me! Just a wonderful new girlfriend, a happy disposition, and a hot cup of tea.