Better out than in

She woke early, and for a moment she almost forgot what day it is. The sky was still dark, and she reflected ruefully that in mid winter in Scotland, it didn't really get light until after nine. Sometimes it didn't get light at all, the gloomy half light described so perfectly in that good Scots word" gloaming". So unlike the warmth and milder climate of her native Cornwall. But Jim had been Scottish and when they married, it was expected that she would move for him. Nobody had suggested that he might migrate to Cornwall. She was the woman, the housewife and mother . It was how it was done , thirty years ago.

She swung her legs out of the bed, wincing slightly as her arthritic knee complained. ," Come on Jenny! Up and at 'em " she told herself firmly.

Radio Four was playing some Christmas hymns, and she listened attentively, remembering other Christmas mornings , when the children were small and the house was full of shrieking and laughter and demands to open presents now, right now, mum hurry up with getting your cup of tea....no chance then to listen to the beautiful sombre tones of In the Deep Midwinter. She stirred her tea thoughtfully, looking out over the garden, still bathed in half shadows, and brown and barren.

This was the first Christmas, Jenny reflected, that she had ever spent alone. Ever. A storm over the Atlantic had prevented her daughter Mary arriving fresh from her pre Christmas visit to her Californian in laws. James was spending the holiday with his in-laws in Suffolk, and that had been arranged for months. Goodness they were getting a goose for lunch, and then visiting relatives, of which Emily seemed to have a bewildering number.

Jenny rolled her eyes and made a moue with her mouth. She didn't much care for Emily, truth be told. She thought she had airs and graces, and her easy going son seemed to fall in with her rigid plans with no discussion having taken place.

Jim had loved her, of course. " She's a go getter and no mistake. Great job, keeps herself in fantastic shape, ambitious .." Jenny remembered the burn of his critical eye on her. She'd tried to pull her middle aged paunch in a bit, and automatically touched her greying hair. For a little while she tried experimenting with a bit of subtle make up, and enrolled on a gym. There wasn't much she could do in her late fifties about a well paid job- well, she'd given work up when the children came along. There was no help with child care then, and Jim had said her wages as a carer were so low they hardly counted. Had he wanted her to return to employment when they went to school? Jenny couldn't really remember discussing it. Actually she couldn't recall they talked about much by that point.

Anyway. Jim hadn't been impressed by either the make up ( " what's that on your face? ") or the gym enrollment, which he'd teased her about and laughed about with Emily openly .

" The gym! You must look well out of place!".

But of course, his refusal to either eat more healthily (" What's this salad stuff on the plate Jenny? Where the meat, woman, for god's sake!") or take any exercise himself may well have contributed to the heart attack that caused him to drop dead one Sunday morning . A look of surprise washed over his face as he clutched his chest and toppled slowly off his chair, in a way that was almost comical.

Almost. Despite his insistence on a certain way of life which Jenny sometimes found difficult, she missed him terribly. She missed his warm bulk in the bed, the cheery whistling to the dog as he entered the house, the ability to turn to him to tell her what to do in any situation. Because Jim always knew what to do. Doubt and uncertainty simply weren't part of his character.

Jenny had struggled with the finances, which had always been his domain. She found herself in an agony of indecision over simple tasks, wondering wretchedly wether she should get the windows replaced. She found herself standing in Sainsbury's for fifteen minutes, with a iceberg lettuce in one hand and a little gem in the other. Jim thought iceberg was tasteless, you see ....

Jenny realised she had been standing in the kitchen for twenty minutes with a rapidly cooling mug of tea. This happened a lot. She seemed to lose chunks of time quite easily as she pondered life. Life and death.

Enough, she told herself firmly. She walked into the living room and pulled the heated blanket over her knees gratefully. Toast and marmalade would be next, and then she would open a couple of presents. It was Christmas after all! No need to be a ninny, Jenny she told herself. It's just a day like any other. Find something silly to watch on Netflix, she thought, and maybe finish the scarf she was knitting for herself.

The house was so quiet. So still. No children , no Jim, no dog, who had departed to a good friend because Jenny couldn't get him to walk without the dog sitting down obstinately every few steps. There was something about the dog, Jenny mused, that reminded her of Jim.

Out of the gloom, a beautiful orange cat made it's way sinously across the carpet. " Horace! Ah, where have you been?" exclaimed Jenny in delight. Horace was a recent addition to the household. He'd arrived from the local animal shelter, and made himself at home with absolutely no fuss or nonsense.

She abandoned her cup of tea and rushed into the kitchen to feed him, as he rapturously wound his way around her legs. " Turkey dinner cat food for my best boy! Yes! It's Christmas, Horace. Happy Christmas".

Jenny didn't bother getting dressed. Jim would have been most disapproving, but she was comfortable under the heated blanket, and mid morning she decided to open a bottle of beer, and the Quality Streets chocolates and light the log burner. Why not, she said to herself , it's Christmas!

She might have dozed at some point , warm , and full of good beer and chocolate, She came to with a start to her phone ringing and Netflix showing her some recommended films ( " because you watched Diehard, we think you'll like Quantum of Solace") only now that Jim wasn't here to demand to watch The Queen's Speech followed by an action film, Netflix had finally caught up and suggested she might enjoy Little Women, because she had watched Downton Abbey....

She almost fell over Horace who was curled sweetly at her feet as she stumbled to the kitchen for her phone.

" Mum!" said Mary " Oh mum, how ARE you? God I'm.so sorry I couldn't get home. I feel so guilty, you must be feeling awful. Your first Christmas without dad and you've got to spend it by yourself.. oh mum I'm so sorry .." Mary's voice thickened in the way it always did before she cried. She almost always cried silently and Jenny could imagine the tears in her daughter's beautiful blue eyes, welling up and threatening to fall.

" Oh darling don't be, honestly! I'm fine, really I am. I've got Horace for company..,,"

A muffled sniff came through the telephone, as Mary obviously gave way to tears.

" No, Mary sweetheart, don't," Jenny said fervently, " I really am fine. I promise "

And in amazement she dimly realised that she actually was, she was fine, and something clicked smoothly in her brain and she saw a rather blissful future ahead. Quiet, yes, solitary at times, but without the need to bend to every whim that someone else demanded.

" Mary, my darling daughter, go and finish breakfast with Jake and the rest, and call me tomorrow. You'll have lots of gifts to open, don't be on the phone worrying about your old ma. " She laughed , and rooted about in the fridge for another bottle of the beer. The first one had gone down rather nicely. It was Christmas after all.

Mary hung up after several anxious questions about food, and friends who might be summoned for company, and Jenny reassured her that yes she would and of course if she needed company , yes she would, as she wrestled one handedly with the bottle opener.

Then she returned to the warm fire, the couch and the Quality Streets. As she sat down, she broke wind loudly and with deep satisfaction. Horace looked at her, a little startled, but without moving.

," Sorry Horace. Better out than in though".

She could imagine Jim's scandalised face- woman simply didn't do that in his book. But Jim wasn't here was he? She settled down with a sigh of satisfaction and began to watch Little Women.