The Mirror

Another Christmas rewrite. Hope you like it. The original is below.

For audio click here. 

Well I was it could be Christmas every day.

Chloe couldn’t get that damn song out of her head. She certainly didn’t wish it could be Christmas every day. In fact, this year she wished it wasn’t Christmas at all. It wasn’t that she was some sort of scrooge who hated the festivities. Far from it; she normally embraced the Christmas spirit with gusto. But this was her first Christmas since the divorce, and she was finding it a little difficult to get into the swing of things.

She was putting on a brave face. She had to for the sake of the kids.  But they were fine. Who cares that your dad’s not there when there are more toys and food than can possibly be healthy? In fact, if anything they won big out of the divorce. After all, they’d get to do Christmas all over again tomorrow with Alan and Tricia.

Chloe looked into the mirror that her parents had given her. She had probably drunk a little too much, ate a little too much and now the kids were sleeping, it was time to cry a little too much. A mirror, why the fuck had they given her a mirror? It wasn’t even a particularly nice one; just a full-length wall mirror. Okay, she didn’t have one in the new flat, but that was because she didn’t really want one and there were plenty of other things she needed first. If they were going to buy her something for the house, a new clothes’ horse or vacuum cleaner would have been more helpful.

What kind of message were they sending by giving her a mirror?  Were they suggesting that she was letting herself go? Had she put on weight? Were her clothes too old or had the hours of tears taken their toll? Christ with two under tens to look after and a full-time job, she didn’t always have time for herself. Divorce was so unfair. She didn’t want to give up the kids, but she had them for school work and school runs while Alan got them for fun weekends. She set the rules so the bastard could break them. On top of that, Monday to Friday he had no responsibility; no rushed breakfasts, packing lunches or making dinner. He got his freedom, but she was still chained to the kitchen sink. She wanted to smash the mirror; let it accidently topple like a domino. Watch the glass shatter like her life had. She sniffed and wiped her eyes and took another gulp of wine.

Three days later, Chloe got a message from her Dad.

‘Can’t make it today, but asked Mark from work to pop round to put up the mirror. He’ll be there at three.’

Chloe didn’t know who ‘Mark from work’ was, she was expecting some old man her dad’s age to come and drink her tea and talk about the good old days.

The doorbell rang at three on the dot.

‘Have I got the right place? Are you Chloe?’ Mark’s voice made her go weak at the knees.

‘Yes,’ She smiled. ‘um come in.’ She felt herself blushing like a schoolgirl as their bodies brushed as he made her way in.

‘I’ve come to hang your mirror.’ Mark said.

‘That sounds like a line from a porn film.’ Chloe giggled and then covered her mouth. She wished she could catch the words as they made their way to Mark’s ears and haul them back in.

Mark blushed profusely and then laughed.

Chloe looked at Mark’s dimples and ringless finger as he worked, and decided that perhaps a mirror wasn’t such a bad present after all.

Chloe couldn’t get that damn song out of her head, she certainly didn’t wish it could be Christmas everyday, in fact this year she wished it wasn’t Christmas at all. It wasn’t that she was some sort of scrooge who hated the festivities. Far from it, she normally embraced the Christmas spirit with gusto. But this was her first Christmas since the divorce so she was finding it a little difficult to get into the swing of things.

Chloe’s mum and dad had been great since the break up, always willing to look after the two kids so Chloe could ‘go out there and have some fun.’ It was them who suggested that the 5 of them spend Christmas together at least that way Chloe wouldn’t be alone on Boxing Day when Alan had the kids.

The day had been great, the kids were getting used to the new circumstances and were adapting well. Plus, who cares that your dad’s not there when there are more toys and food than can possibly be healthy. Chloe had probably drunk a little too much, ate a little too much and now as she looked into the mirror that her parents had given her, it was time to cry a little too much.

A mirror, why had they given her a mirror? It wasn’t even a particularly nice one either. Just a full-length wall mirror that her dad had promised to put up for her. Okay she didn’t have one in the new flat, but that was because she didn’t really want one and there were plenty of other things she needed first. If they were going to buy her something for the house, a new clothes’ horse or vacuum cleaner would have been more helpful.

What kind of message were they sending by giving her a mirror? She thought of Alan, back in happier times when they’d seen someone dressed awfully at a party or in a shop Alan would mutter under his breath, hasn’t she got a mirror at home? (It usually was a she.) Is that what her parents were saying to her? Were they suggesting that she let herself go? What was it? Had she put on weight, were her clothes too old or was she just looking rough? Christ with 2 under tens to look after and a full time job she didn’t always have time for herself. Divorce was so unfair, she didn’t want to give up the kids, but she had them for school work and school runs while Alan got them for fun weekends. She set the rules so the bastard could break them. On top of that, Monday to Friday he had no responsibility, no rushed breakfasts, packing lunches or making dinner. He got his freedom but she was still chained to the kitchen sink.

Three days later, back at home Chloe got a message from her Dad.

‘Can’t make it today but asked Mark from work to pop round to put up the mirror.’

Chloe didn’t know who ‘Mark from work’ was, she was expecting some 60 something old man to come and drink her tea and have a chat. So when the doorbell rang she was surprised to see a nice looking fella in his late thirties standing there.

‘Have I got the right place, are you Chloe?’

‘Yes come in.’ She smiled.

‘I’ve come to hang your mirror.’ Mark said innocently.

‘That sounds like a line from a porn film.’ Chloe giggled and then blushed as she said it, wishing she could delete the words as they made their way to Mark’s ears.

Mark blushed profusely.

‘No, I meant …’ He saw Chloe laughing and relaxed, laughing too.

Chloe looked at Mark’s dimples and ringless finger and decided that perhaps a mirror wasn’t such a bad present after all.