THE CHARITY TURKEY

      Karen Denman was standing by the front door of the house discreetly smoking a cigarette. She didn’t want to smoke in front of the kids, it was bad for them and she wouldn’t want them to take it up, but, just now,she needed it.

      Rab had left two weeks ago, came back for his stuff, said he was off, had enough. A woman at the co-op had told her he’d gone off with a lass just out of school.

      It had not been great their marriage, but it worked after a fashion. He’d cooled a lot since the kids came along. He seemed irritated as they got older, maybe he couldn’t stand the competition for her attention.
The kids, Harry four and Sheena eight, were devastated. They didn’t understand - they thought it was their fault.

      For herself, she felt abused, gutted, sick to her stomach, already dumped for a younger model. God she was only thirty two. She was left with all the problems too, the debts, the council tax, the rent.

      She’d been to the social and it was in hand , but, for now, it was a mess. It wouldn’t be sorted 'til after Xmas.

Xmas - it was December the 20th now, what a time to leave , the bastard.

      Well she’d do her best. She started to think of what she could do to make it something for the kids.

      Just then a small red three wheeler pulled up outside her gate. A man and woman in uniform got out. The bloody cops - what next, what has he done now?

      They came up the path like no police she knew, beaming from ear to ear.
Then she twigged, Sally Ann, hoping for a donation no doubt. Well, they could think again.

She stubbed out her fag as they drew level.

“Mrs Denman? said the woman.

“Yes,” said Karen.

“We’ve heard about your misfortune, we’d like you to accept this.” The man held out a large box. “We get donations from people,anonymously, at this time of the year and we like to distribute them where they're needed."

      Seeing the worried look on Karen’s face he continued,

 “It's a turkey,a big one. The lady who handed it in said not to stuff it. It's well stuffed already.”

 He omitted to add that the lady had winked at him as she handed it over. He thought at the time she was giving him the eye and was flattered.

      Karen hesitated, then took the box.

 “Thank you," she said.

They turned and walked off. More people to visit no doubt. She was in no position, she knew, to afford a turkey. The problem had been preying on her mind. Her heavy heart lifted a little.

 

She turned back into the house. She placed the box in the kitchen and went in to give her kids a cuddle and plan the decorations.

      As she and her daughter pinned up spirals of crepe paper, she was thinking about the house. It depressed her. It was on a downbeat council estate in need of an upgrade. The house had been due for new sinks and windows for some time and there were damp patches on the ceilings. Fat chance of her being able to do much now that Rab had scarpered.

      Her own family had been good with presents for the kids. Just as well, she couldn’t afford anything you’d call a big present. Harry wouldn't notice but Sheena was at that age where she was only too conscious of what her friends had. It wasn’t that Sheena was too materialistic, it was just that they, all the girls of her age, were.

      Karen’s mum often went on about how spoiled kids were today compared to her childhood.
It didn’t help. “ It's different now," she reminded her mum.

      On Xmas day, Karin made an extra effort. She took the turkey out of the fridge and checked the label for the defrosting and cooking times and got the bird in the oven by ten o’clock.

     She and Sheena prepared the veg. The trimmings were very important, they made it really. Brussels, bread sauce, apple sauce cranberry sauce and gravy. Luckily, Harry always had a sleep for a couple of hours about eleven.

      By 12 o’clock things were looking good. She and Sheena were in the living room laying the table. Harry was on the couch with his little blue bunny blanket over him. The TV was on. Sheena wanted to watch a film.

      Suddenly there was a large bang and a tongue of blue flame shot out of the kitchen door followed by the sound of cracking and burning, smoke billowed out into the room.

      For seconds Karen, stunned, stared in disbelief, then she looked for her children. Sheena had been thrown to the floor with a cut above her eye. She wasn’t moving. Harry had been shielded by the back of the couch. He was awake now and crying. Karen bent over Sheena. She opened her eyes and looked at her mum. She seemed dazed and confused. Karen’s next thought was to get them out of the house as soon as possible. She yanked Sheena to her feet and grabbed Harry in his blanket and made for the front door. Behind her the fire had got hold and smoke and flames billowed out after her.

      Outside, neighbours began to gather, someone had called the Fire Brigade. The upstairs had caught now and the smoke, brown, black, dense, was streaming out of the windows. She watched in horror.

      The fire engine arrived. A senior fireman directed to her by neighbours checked if everyone was out.
Then firemen were all around her directing hoses at the windows door and roof.

      One of the firemen led her back from the flames to the fire engine.

      Her senses were heightened now, she was incredibly alert, aware.

 

She saw in front of her a face, framed in a yellow helmet, a handsome face, rugged, practical. He was asking her something. He wanted to know her name and address and details of the kids, was there a husband?

 

She must have given the answers, because he stopped for a moment. He asked if there was someone she could go to stay with. It was then she burst out crying. She was crying with anger, she was bloody homeless, manless. When Rab had gone she’d at least got the house - now it was burnt to a crisp. Did she say all this through her tears. Later she couldn’t remember.

      Andrew, the fire officer in question, listened attentively - people in shock often said the wildest things. The woman in front of him clutching one child to her breast and another to her side was a slim attractive blond with blue-green eyes. The absent husband had been mad to leave her.

      Andrew was being as professional as he could - he’d been given this part of the job because he was “empathetic”, his boss had told him.
He put his arm on her shoulder and said supportive things to her.
When she looked up at him they held each others gaze for more than a moment.

      She opted to stay with her mother in her cramped flat.

The policewoman who drove her there said social services had been contacted and a few days later they called about a new apartment that was available.“Would she like to view it? Leaving Harry with mum, she and Sheena looked it over. Newly built, clean,a modern kitchen,three bedrooms, one for each of them. "Lovely," she said, "lovely, yes, yes."
They even supplied what they called temporary furniture - to her it seemed great. Moving in the next week took all of ten minutes.

      The very next day after moving, a heavy knock at the door revealed Andrew - the fireman.

 ”Remember me?" he said with a smile.
      “How could I ever forget," she said.
      “I’ve come to give you the forensic report - about what started the fire."
      “Oh,” she said, a little disappointed.
     “There was a bottle of whisky stuffed inside that turkey. When it got to a certain temperature it just exploded.” continued Andrew.

 

Karen couldn’t help laughing.

      Andrew smiled but was confused. She told him about the Sally Ann turkey, then she told him how things had been that Xmas day. Indeed she talked and talked, he was after all empathetic. He watched her closely as she talked. Then she said,

 

 “What did I say to you on the day of the fire?"
     “Ehm..., a lot of things, you were angry, its quite common you know,” he continued. He looked into her blue-green eyes and was aware of that feeling he’d had on the day she was rescued.

He got up, said he had to go but, as he opened the door, he said,

 

“Would you like to come out for a pub lunch? He saw her expression. ”Yes, I meant all of you... on Sunday?"

 

She was silent for a second then said,

 

“Yes.... yes I would."


note;* Sally Ann is nickname given to The Salvation Army and they use it now to promote their initiative for trade that promotes hope.

Impressum

Texte: alastair macleod
Bildmaterialien: alastair macleod; "roasted turkey", purchased from Dreamstime royalty free photos
Lektorat: alastair macleod
Übersetzung: title typeset in classical
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.12.2012

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"in poverty there is still love and hope"