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Christmas Letters

by Joanna Sterling

Short Story Amusing, Poignant

November 1968

Dear Father Christmas

Has it started to snow in Lapland? Mummy says it is cold up where you live. She also says if I am good I can ask for a special present to be in my stocking. Please can I have a dolls tea set so my friend Patricia and I can play tea parties. My doll’s name is Antonia, she has black hair, Patricia’s doll talks when you pull a string at the back of her head. I hope we get snow for Christmas.

Love from

Lucy

26th December 1968
Herbert Atkins Ward
Royal Memorial Hospital
London
 
Dear Mabel
 
Thanks very much for coming last week. Much appreciated. I had my operation on the Friday – they took me down just before dinner time. Such a nice nurse came with me and held my hand while I waited for them to put me under. I spent a couple of days in bed, didn’t feel too good and was a bit sick. Glad I wasn’t wearing that pretty new nightie you gave me for Christmas. Thanks very much by the way.
 
We had our Christmas dinner on the ward, they laid out a long table with a white cloth and crackers. There were one or two who weren’t able to get up and join us. A lad who’d been in a fight on Christmas Eve. Would you believe it, someone had thrust a broken bottle into his face. He’s got both eyes bandaged, poor soul. One of the young nurses fed him his lunch. They say he’ll be alright and be home in time for the New Year. They gave us turkey, roast potatoes, sprouts. They over cooked the sprouts. Someone said they’d been on since six o’clock. I ask you, even your Flo don’t cook them that long. All mushy they were. There was pudding of course with custard. No lumps if you’re asking.
 
I hope you enjoyed yourselves with all the family. Did Reg get up to his usual tricks? That brother of yours can be a devil with a bit of drink in him.
 
I’ll have to finish now, I can see the WI lady coming up the ward. They come visiting regular and will take this to the post.
 
All the best and see you soon
Gladys
 

3rd December 1969

Dear Father Christmas

Thank you for my stocking last year. Antonia, Patricia, and her doll, the one that talks, you remember, had tea parties in the garden. I wish Patricia’s doll could say ‘would you like a cup of tea’ instead of ‘would you like an apple’. We don’t have apples at our tea parties. This year please could I have a pram so we can take our dolls for a walk in the park.

Did your reindeer like the carrots I left out for them?

I know you can’t deliver this in my stocking but could you make it so my Daddy is at home on Christmas day. Last year we all went to the hospital. It was quite fun. One of the nurses in a dark blue uniform gave me a colouring book and some pencils. Mummy made me give her a kiss to say thank you, she smelt funny. Happy Christmas.

Love from

Lucy

27th December 1969
Herbert Atkins Ward
Royal Memorial Hospital
London
 Dear Hilary
 
Thank you for your notelet. What an attractive painting of a poinsettia on the front. I note it was painted by one of your art group. They are really coming along, at last. I quite understand about you not being able to visit. It’s a long way for you to come on the bus. Such a pity you never learnt to drive.
 
The young surgeon who did my operation said it went as well as can be expected given my age and state of health. He’s been in to check my progress several times. He brought his family in on Christmas day. His wife is pretty in that common way young people are these days. The little girl was rather impertinent wanted to pull my cracker. I put that down to the mother, what can you expect of a woman who dresses her daughter in multi coloured flowers.
 
Some people in the ward make such a fuss about the pain they are in but you know me. I think you have to just grin and bear it. The woman in the bed next to mine snores all night. I don’t get a wink of sleep. I wake up in the morning and there’s no apology. And before breakfast even, she starts to chatter, and keeps it up all day long. I get no peace. I was mighty relieved when her daughter came to collect her. She came right up to my bed and shook my hand wishing me a happy Christmas, suggested I had a stiff drink when I got home. Really.
 
For Christmas they put decorations up in the ward, tinsel draped here and there, stuck up everyone’s cards on the windows so you could not see out. I insisted my few were stood up on my bedside cabinet. I thought I had told more people I was going to be in hospital.
 
Your affectionate sister
Jennifer

30th December 1969
John Watkins Ward
Royal Memorial Hospital
London

 

Dear Reg

I hope you all had a good time with the family at Christmas. There was quite a party on the ward with the nurses and doctors and their families. For our Christmas lunch all us men, well those of us able to get up or be pushed by a pretty nurse were taken down to Herbert Atkins ward for our lunch. I was nearly sat next to that women from the golf club, you know the one I mean. All haughty, not so high and mighty when she’s in her nightie and dressing gown mind. But with a bit of nifty foot work I got myself on the end of the table right handy for any seconds that were going.

There was an old chap in the bed next to me at the beginning of the week. Terrible cough, they had him on oxygen and all sorts. He’d been at Wipers, the Somme and Passiondale, I tried to get him to talk about it, thought he’d have some great stories to tell. But he won’t. Not like us always reminiscing on our war. But it was a different war and that makes all the difference. When we all came back from our lunch his bed was empty, all stripped back. I asked one of the nurses, slip of a thing. Where he was and she just said he’d been moved. But she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Later when the big wig nurse – matron, all in her navy blue with starch collar and frilly cap, came round to ask if we’d enjoyed our lunch I tackled her. She said he slipped away. I said you mean died, why don’t you say so then. She looked me dead in the eye, no pun intended and said we don’t like to upset the other patients do we. And gave me a knowing look and a wink. She popped in yesterday to see if I was alright. Didn’t half put the wind right up ward sister and staff nurse. They say I can go home in early January, I asked if I could be out in time for the New Year but the surgeon was quite firm. So no parties for me. We will have to have our own celebration later in January. Love to your sister Mabel.

George

 10th December 1970

Dear Father Christmas

What I would like this year for Christmas is for Daddy not to be working at the hospital please. Last year we spent all of Christmas day there . Daddy did what he calls a ward round, checking his patients. He looks smart in his white coat. Mummy and I saw the smelly nurse in a dark blue dress, the one they call Matron. She gave me another colouring book and some more pencils. She gave a little boy, his daddy puts patients to sleep, some sweeties, he ate them all in one go and then was sick on the carpet. We all went up to the ward, some patients have to have their Christmas lunch in bed. Mummy helped Daddy carve the turkey. One of the nurses, in a green uniform, brought me a sausage to eat, it wasn’t very hot and a bit greasy. I didn’t let Mummy see me licking my fingers. I pulled a cracker with one of the old gentlemen, he looked a bit like Grandpops. An old lady was all grumpy when I offered to pull her cracker and shouted at me. I don’t think that was very polite of her.

This year please could I have a bicycle. And may I not have any nuts – I don’t like nuts. I like chocolate. Thank you. Happy Christmas

Love from

Lucy

 21st December 1970
Herbert Atkins Ward
Royal Memorial Hospital
London
Dear Mabel
 
Here I am again, back on the same ward as well. As you know I have been having trouble with the other eye, so they decided to bring me in for another operation. I can’t say I am looking forward to it, but then again it will be worth it if they get rid of the blurring. The young doctor I saw before is a qualified surgeon now doing my operation. He came down to see me this afternoon to check everything was alright, he is ever so nice, told me all about his daughter. She’s called Lucy, and will be coming in to see us all on Christmas day.
 
Don’t worry if you can’t get up to see me, this has been short notice I was not expecting to come in till after Christmas, but they said there was a bed and knowing I was going to be on my own thought I might like to come in. Very thoughtful of Matron.
 
Well I will wish you and Reg a very Happy Christmas.
 
All Best Wishes
Gladys
 

8th December 1971

Dear Father Christmas

I know I ask every year but please please please this year could you arrange for my Daddy not to be at the hospital and to have Christmas day at home. Last year he was there all day and so was Mummy and I. The nurse in dark blue dress gave me a join the dots book, the little boy got sweeties, again, he didn’t share, ate them all .

I went with Mummy up to the ward to see some of the patients. Am sure they’d rather be at home than in hospital. Mummy said there was something wrong with the turkey and not to eat it. When we got home Mummy made sandwiches. It snowed and I built a snowman. Happy Christmas

 Love from

Lucy

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About Joanna Sterling

Joanna writes short stories and flash fiction, has had her work published in a number of magazines and anthologies. She lives in London with her ever growing collection of Brooches.

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Everyone at The Casket is hoping 2021 will be a better year than 2020.  We have some great short stories and flash fiction lined up for your delight.  We kick of the year with a story by Lydia Unsworth “The Smallest Boxes” and then for Valentine's we have a story by Dylan Brethour which will also be available as a podcast. Later in the summer we have a new Flash Fiction Summer Collection which will be published online and as podcasts read by Menna Bonsels and Richard Hodder.  We hope you enjoy the stories we have for you and look forward to welcoming you back regularly.

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Text & stories © Joanna Sterling 2021
Stories © various authors
Audio by Menna Bonsels
Brooch photography by Mark Colliton
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