Tom delicately placed his bony bottom onto his chair, while making sure not to draw attention to himself in any shape or form. “Tom”, said Mr Baxter in a firm tone. Tom quickly snapped out of his daydream, with his heart picking up speed by the second before realising it was just the afternoon register. He then began to twiddle with his thumbs before he suddenly got a poke on his shoulder by one of few friends “What are you doing over Christmas then Tom?” said Peter, fighting with himself not to get too carried away with the Christmas theme
“We’re just keeping it with the family at home”, replied Tom, relieved that was the end of it. However Peter kept on
“That’s boring, and anyway I’ve known you for years and you always do something”, pestered the upbeat and intrigued Peter
“Um… I wasn’t meant to tell anyone but we’re going to Paris with the family and renting out a restaurant just for our family” lied Tom, before setting off home and sending shivers through the spines of his fellow tutor group as he almost slammed the door off its hinges.
Once Tom arrived at the small terraced house he called home, he was greeted with a big sloppy kiss from his mum, which left a stench of alcohol yet again. Tom’s dad had now been in Iraq for eleven months and even his teachers would agree that Tom had changed in the last eleven months and was no longer the kind of loving teenager he used to be.
Tom followed the usual pattern that evening and went straight to bed. He would lie there for hours on end reminiscing about the days when he and his father would go to the park and spend hours practicing their football skills. Tom would then think of his dad from a different perspective, believing that if his dad really loved him, he wouldn’t have gone to fight in Iraq. At eight thirty that evening while most children would be watching T.V with someone who loved them, Tom felt a million miles away from any love or affection.
Tom woke the next day to the same old woolly blanket and spring less mattress he had been given by his Granddad, who had it when he was a child. Tom knew it was Christmas tomorrow, yet wasn’t bothered because as far as he was concerned it would just be another one of those lonely days. As he went downstairs he was startled to find his mum out of bed and dressed before he was.
“Why’d’ you look so shocked then Tom” she questioned in a stubborn tone. “Don’t worry”, replied a puzzled Tom.
“I have great news Tom, your Grandparents are coming all the way from Jersey just to spend Christmas day with us”, said Tom enthusiastic mother. Maybe, just maybe it might be a good Christmas after all, Tom thought to himself. Tom seemed more overwhelmed with the news of his grandparents then his mum. He rushed upstairs and emptied his money box, “Just a few coppers”, sighed Tom before a glint of a £10 note caught the corner of his eye. It was the one his dad had given him before he left for Iraq. A second later, Tom was out the front door; he was so excited he forgot to shut it. Tom was going to get his Grandparents presents they’d never forget.
That evening as he finally finished wrapping his granddads pants and grandma’s woolly socks, he knew that the best way to past time was to go to sleep. So that’s exactly what he did, knowing that when he woke up they’d be there.
Christmas day arrived, and like most 13 year olds he ran straight into his mums’ room to remind her it was Christmas day, before jetting off to the spare room where his grandparents would have been, if they were there… but they weren’t. Tom refused to give up, he searched everywhere, before resigning himself to the fact that they had cancelled. His mum then came down to break the unfortunate news. “Their car broke down”, said his mum in a comforting tone, they both slouched down together, on the old worn sofa, switched on the T.V and for the first time in around 11 months began to comfort each other.
As hours went by they just stayed there, motion less. They led on the sofa catching up on time they had lost out on. Then from out of nowhere they heard a familiar voice they’d never forget, Tom’s dad.
It was coming from the T.V. They began to listen and both their jaws open. “Happy Christmas Tom”, said Tom’s bubbly father. “I want you to know that I’ll be home in a month or two. Promise me you’ll look after your mum, because I love you both dearly”, he continued. As Tom repositioned his hair because it was covering his eyes, he managed to get a glimpse of the man who he thought had forgotten him, his Dad.
Tom’s mum and Tom now both knew that their hero was alive, but more importantly he had never stopped loving them. No matter what Father Christmas had brought Tom that day, he knew that seeing his dad on T.V was the best present he could have asked for.
