Anticipation

Anticipation

‘Don’t get up too early.’

Is it late enough?  Ben peered again towards the window, heart beating, brown hair still sleep tousled. Had he been? He could discern the orange pattern on the curtains by the glow spilling through the part open doorway, the handles on his wardrobe glinted gold in the shadows and on top of his desk on the far wall the faint outlines of Ed-ted and Don-din stood fluffy guard, not giving away the time. He listened, holding his breath, for any sign that his parents were awake but the only sound was water in the pipes and the occasional muffled crack of a settling house. Then there was just the sound of his own ears straining.

 ‘Don’t wake your sisters.’

He knew that if his youngest sister Beth could be woken then she wouldn’t be able to help waking his parents in her excitement but there was no sound from across the landing.

 His nose gave lie to the deep warmth beneath his bedclothes. The air outside was cold enough that he could feel the shape of his nostrils as he breathed. Hints of cinnamon and nutmeg laced the chill, mingling with something else he didn’t recognise. And still the all-important question burned. Is it late enough? Ben couldn’t tell how long he’d been asleep and though he was desperate to throw off the covers and run down the stairs he knew he shouldn’t until mummy and daddy were up.

‘Don’t go downstairs on your own.’

 Last year, Ben had woken up and crept downstairs, only wanting to see if he’d been, but when he saw all the sparkling red and green laid out beneath the tree and  lit by the dying embers of last night’s fire, he couldn’t resist and surely just one wouldn’t matter.

 He’d been found three presents in, clutching a pot-pouri gift set with a tearful combination of guilt and disappointment on his face.

 Leaning forwards he pulled back a corner of curtain and peered outside but the sky was still dark and last night’s snow, had transformed his world so that nothing seemed familiar, especially this morning, where the darkness, thick with magic, was slow to loosen its grip. He closed his eyes again willing himself to sleep but all that came was a question, had he been yet? What was waiting downstairs? The house felt different this morning, as if it had a huge secret to tell.

‘The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be morning’

Ben put his head back on the pillow.

There. A sound. Surely.

And again, that was a definite bed-creak, but from where? He pushed the covers back, too excited to feel the cold and crept as lightly as he could to the door. Not even breathing now he listened, and heard a whisper and there, one in reply. His sisters were awake.