Every year, I would watch my dad on the landing, standing on a spindly wooden chair and reaching the box of Christmas decorations down from the loft. Once he had it, I’d hurry downstairs after him to unpack baubles wrapped in smudgy newspaper, a host of glittery green butterflies, until finally, out came my favourite decorations of all, fondly known as ‘The Carriages’. These were the fairy lights: sweet-wrapper pink, yellow and blue with every bulb housed in a golden, Cinderella-style coach, with wheels that turned. They were beautiful.
Mum and I would dress the tree, The Carriages first, then tinsel, baubles and finally the star on top. By then it was dark outside, our small fire glowing in the grate. I knew what was coming. Mum drew the curtains, Dad…
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The Simple Things (Digital) - 1 Issue, 1-Dec-15