As the dulcet tones floated out of the radio I sighed. The season of good will was well and truly here when the stations played the old classics, I thought. Glancing out of the window I doubted if Bing's dream was going to come true. In a couple of hours it would be Christmas Day and the overcast night sky was dispensing a fine rain that soaked the rotting leaves lying on the overgrown lawn. It pretty much matched my mood. 

This was going to be my first Christmas away from home and I wasn't looking forward to it. I suppose I should have made the effort to put up some Christmas decorations but there didn't seem much point as I was the only one that was going to see them. Anyway I had the sneaking suspicion that holly and fairy lights were no match for the dingy wallpaper and drab furnishings that surrounded me. 

I'd moved into the run down cottage three weeks earlier. It belonged to an old college friend and she'd let me have it for a nominal rent and even that was more than I could really afford. Until I found a job I was living on my meager savings and they were hardly enough to buy food and clothing. It was hard to believe that I'd left a well-paid job and the safety and security of my parents' home for this. 

Mind you, I had no-one to blame for my situation but myself. If I'd been made of tougher stuff I wouldn't have needed to uproot myself from my comfortable life to face an unknown and, as I was finding out, a pretty bleak future. Yet, at the time, I felt I had no choice. I just couldn't bear it any more. Couldn't live with the constant reminders.

It was only now that I was beginning to realize that running away wasn't the answer. After all, you couldn't run away from yourself. However hard I tried, I was incapable of banning Georgie from my memory and I didn't even think I wanted to. The memories were all I had left of him.

As if to mock my feelings the radio was now playing "Lonely this Christmas." The words tore into my heart.
 

"You remember last year, when you and I were together; We never thought there'd be an end; And, I remember looking at you then; And, I remember thinking that Christmas must have been made for us; 'Cos darlin', this is the time that you really need love; When it means so very, very much; It'll be lonely this Christmas without you to hold..." 

Sobbing I turned the radio off. Yes I was lonely. I hadn't spoken to a soul in three weeks. I'd deliberately isolated myself. My only companion the pain of bereavement, because I'd thought it was what I wanted. I'd been wrong. At Christmas no-one should be completely alone. 

I needed to hear the sound of voices.. It wouldn't bring Georgie back but at least it would mask the aching grief. Hesitantly I picked up the phone. Apart from a quick call when I'd moved in I hadn't talked to my parents since my arrival. I knew I was hurting them but I hated hearing the note of pity in their voices, yet anything was better than the deafening silence that surrounded me now. 

The phone was dead.

Slowly I replaced the receiver in its cradle. it appeared that the Fates had decreed that I keep my vow of solitude whether I wanted to or not. A wave of fatigue flooded through my body. It seemed that I would have to drown my sorrows in sleep instead.

Walking into the bedroom I slipped out of my clothes and into bed. Reaching out to switch off the lamp my glance fell upon the photo on the bedside table. I'd taken it three months earlier and it was the last one I would ever take of Georgie. He had just come out of the water and his black hair was plastered on to his shoulders. He was grinning into the camera and waving a long strand of seaweed in his hand. I remembered how he'd chased me with it half-way along the deserted beach. He'd wrestled me to the ground and we had made love amongst the breaking surf. As I leaned back into the pillows the memory played itself out behind my closed eyelids.

His fingers massaged my wet, salty back and I grumbled that the sand was scratching my skin. He laughed. "Hey, stop moaning! You'd pay the earth for this kind of treatment in an expensive health club!"

"Hey, it hurts! I reckon it's more the kind of treatment that you'd get in a completely different kind of club!"

"And you'd pay even more for that!" 

Then he pressed his mouth on to mine. His tongue forced my lips apart. Suddenly I gasped for air as a breaking wave showered us with its spray.

"Georgie, I'm drowning here!" I choked. Grasping my shoulders he rolled me around until I was lying on his stomach.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," I replied. "Now it's you who are going to drown!" 

"Well, you'll just have to give me the kiss of life, then!" he grinned.

Our lips met again and I could feel his fingers unhooking my bikini top. I slipped out of it, hoping fervently that the tide was coming in and not going out. I didn't fancy walking back to our hotel topless! I realized that it could be even worse than that, as Georgie began to slip my bikini bottoms down my legs. Oh well, if I was going to run the chance of returning to our lodgings in the nude then I certainly wasn't planning on doing it alone and I deftly removed Georgie's trunks. 

Lying naked in each other's arms, the warm seawater splashing over us, I could feel his hardness pressing into my stomach. His hands encircled my breasts, his fingertips playing with my erect nipples. It seemed the tide 'was' coming in as a larger wave washed over my back, filling my mouth with water. I spluttered and quickly rose to my knees. Either Georgie had grown gills or he was an expert at holding his breath because, undeterred by the water, he took advantage of my new position by grasping my buttocks and pulling me down onto him. I gasped as he slid inside of me, his hips rocking gently. As he slipped deep into my body his movements quickened. His fingers gripped me tighter, his nails digging into my skin. 

I moaned in ecstasy. My perceptions were so clear that it was impossible to believe that this was only a memory. I could physically feel his body under mine, his erection filling me completely. The heat of the sun was beating down on my back, my skin was wet and I could taste the brine on my lips. And then I heard his voice whispering my name...My eyes flew open .The moisture covering my body was a fine sheen of sweat, the sun's rays the heat of fever, and the salty tang in my mouth was the flavour of my tears. And then, as the dark shadows of my bedroom materialized around me, I was paralysed with shock, unable to move, incapable of even crying out.

I was no longer alone. 

I could clearly see Georgie's face, his long dark hair spread across my pillow...his familiar grin taunting me.

Somewhere deep inside a small voice was whispering that this could only be a dream. I chose to ignore it. I wanted so much to believe that Georgie had come back to me. This couldn't be a dream. It was far too real. After all, it was absurd that Georgie could possibly have drowned. He was the water baby, as much at home in water as he was on land. I was the non-swimmer who had stupidly ignored the signs to keep out of the sea and had got caught in the undertow. It was idiotic to believe that after they pulled us out of the water he was the one who lay lifeless on the sand. Could it be that this moment was reality and all those empty days I had suffered since our honeymoon had been the nightmare? It was what I wanted to believe.

Grasping hope with all my strength I relaxed into his arms as his hands began to caress my back. Kissing me greedily he slipped one hand between us and began to play with my clit. All the tension and grief seeped away as I felt myself reaching a climax under the touch of his expert fingers. Feeling my excitement mounting he began to pump into me and we came together. Exhausted we collapsed into each other's arms. My eyes closed and I drifted into a contented sleep.

I woke with cold air flowing over my shoulders. The blankets had slipped off the bed in the night. I shivered, but the chill on my skin was nothing compared with the icy coldness I felt inside.. It was Christmas Day and I was alone.

I was aware that the light streaming into the room was unnaturally bright and, stumbling out of bed, shivering and shaking with cold and disillusionment, I made my way to the window. It seemed that Bing had secured his wish after all. The world outside was coated with snow.

And then I saw something that took all the breath from my body. Leading away from the front door, dark against the brilliance of the snow, was a trail of bare footprints.
 

Copyright © 2001 Lynne den Hartog. All Rights Reserved. May not be re-printed in any form without express written consent of the author. Do not copy or post.

You may purchase her work at Renaissance ebooks.

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