A waft of scent drifted past where we were sitting, at a table in a raised area of the bar, its source uncertain. One of those 'natural essence' kind of fragrances, with a very obvious pine note. Our eyes met, and it seemed like we were both having the same thought at the same time.
"Smells like Christmas trees," I mused.
He smiled, the smile of someone for whom the childish delight at the wonders of Christmas was a relatively recent, and happy memory. Even if his life had taken several turns for the worse since.
"Yeah, I was trying to think of what that smell reminded me of, and you're dead right!" His smile faded abruptly, though, as if the pain in his soul was fiercely determined not to let him dwell on anything remotely pleasant, determined to torment him in full measure.
"I guess I'm too old for Christmas now, though. It wouldn't be the same, anyway."
I reached across the table, took his hands in mine.
"No, it won't be the same, but that doesn't mean it has to be worse. You're never too old for Christmas! It's a couple of months away yet, but why don't we try and make it the best ever. For both of us. We've both had tough times lately, you more so than me, I know that, so I think we both deserve something special. Just for once, I've got enough money in the bank to splash out, so why not? What do you say?"
He looked into my eyes, pensively, as though he couldn't believe that anything good could ever happen to him again.
"I....I don't know....I don't want to waste all your money, not when I can't give you....give you anything in return."
"You give me, you've already given me, more than you know. I'd lost everything, everything that mattered, anyway, as well, and you've given me something far more precious than anything money could ever buy." He looked at me quizzically. "You've given me a reason to live, to want to live. I'm not asking, I'll never ask, for anything more than that. If I can help you to find a happy place, to start your life afresh, then that will be one of the greatest things, maybe the greatest thing, I've ever done in my life."
He was silent, for a long time, his eyes misty. "You....you really mean it?" he said, finally.
"Of course I mean it. You're a wonderful, talented young man, and if I can do my small part to allow you to fulfil your potential, then that's what I want to do."
The light seemed to slowly come back on in his eyes, as though the inner boy had broken free of the straitjacket of despair that had imprisoned him for so long. "Can we have a big tree, and candles, and chocolates, and all that stuff?"
"Of course! And turkey and mince pies, and walnuts in a bowl, too! Let's do it all!"
"Yeah! It's gonna be great!" There was a hiatus, as though the next thought was almost too difficult for him to process. Hesitantly, tentatively, though, he turned it into words.
"Can we....can we have....hugs, too?"
"That will be the best present of all. No-one is ever too old to have a hug. Why wait till Christmas, though, why not right now?"
And so, right there, in the middle of a crowded London pub, we stood and wrapped each other in a warm, timeless embrace. At length, his gaze engaged mine again, and he smiled, as though he'd just relearned how.
"Thank you, Sammy....for everything."
"No, thank you, Daniel, for making it worthwhile again."
A single, happy tear ran down my cheek, and dripped onto the table, forming a tiny puddle. Reflecting the light like a Christmas decoration.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
