A Christmas Miracle

The suburban district of Wimbledon was covered in a thick blanket of snow, all inhabitants locked safely away inside the warmth of their homes. Twinkling fairy lights shone brightly, the snow sparkling like diamonds as a decorative glow was cast. Children slept soundly in their beds, stockings hung in the hopes that they had behaved well enough to receive a visit from Santa.

One house in particular was getting ready for an arrival of their very own. Not of the white bearded variety however. Tom and his wife, Prim, were at the Hiddleston family home for Christmas, the last Christmas they would spend as just a twosome. He remembered the day he met her with great clarity, rosebuds peeking open, the sweet smell of spring in the air. He remembered the smile she gave him as they both reached out for the same copy of the Sunday Times, a smile that seemed to brighten up his entire life. She was an enigma, her beauty knowing no bounds, like a rare flower that had yet to be discovered.

He had read just about every single baby book he could get his hands on, absorbing the information like a human sponge in the run up to the big day. It would be their first child and he wanted to be the best father he could possibly be. Many nights were spent talking to the rounded belly of his wife, him peppering her in sweet kisses as he regaled tales of adventure and mystery to his unborn child.

The couple prepared as much as they could. The nursery was decorated, intricate paintings of sweet little animals adorning the walls, the lemon colour they had chosen giving the room a light and airy feel. The night light that Tom had spent three days making, hung up in the centre of the room just above the pine cot he had painstakingly put together in around the same amount of time. They were almost ready, cute little onesies all pressed and folded neatly in the cupboard, nappies and blankets sat underneath. All that awaited them now was the arrival of the little bundle of joy that would complete their family.

Early Christmas Eve morning was when the first contractions started, mild and far apart, Prim handled it perfectly. Over protective Tom jumped into action, scrambling around the two up two down as he gathered supplies and fretted. The hours ticked by and his nails were bitten down to the quick, the surrounding skin swollen and angrily red as he chewed.

“Honey, are you okay up there?”

His wife had been upstairs an awfully long time, Tom’s nerves spiking to dangerous heights as he tried his best not to fuss. Prim was currently stuck on the toilet, huffing out breaths of air as she waited for the latest contraction to pass. Finally able to move, she floated down the stairs with ease, her husband waiting at the bottom, enamoured as always by her beauty. “I’m fine Tom, stop worrying.” A warm smile tilted her lips, her voice he often compared to the opening notes of a symphony, it was so wonderful.

“Sorry,” he chuckled in his own unique way. “It’s so close now, I’m on pins here.”

Prim bent forward and clutched at his shirt as another wave of pain consumed her, her fingers clenching the crisp material as it bunched in her hands. Tom’s fair brows furrowed together in worry, watching his wife in pain was not something he liked at all. He felt helpless as she breathed slowly and deeply, waiting for it to pass just like the one before. A sloshing sound had his head snapping up, their eyes locked together as moisture ran down her legs and pooled into the carpet at their feet. “Is that...? Please tell me you just wet yourself!”

“No, I most definitely did not just wet myself. The baby’s coming!”

“Oh okay, the baby’s coming.” With a nod of his head, his brain managed to engage long enough for his eyes to pop open wide. “Oh my god! The baby’s coming!”

“You need to phone Gabriel and get him to meet us at the hospital.” Tom stared back at her as if she had just spoken to him in Japanese, like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. “Tom! This baby isn’t hanging around, move it!”

Shuddering at the mention of their midwife’s name, Tom snapped himself into action, calling out to his parents that he would phone with news. Gathering the baby bag and his set of keys, they trudged through the snow towards his car. “Do we really have to call Gabriel? You know what happened last time, love.”

“He was not coming onto you, he was just-OWWWW!”

Wincing at the death grip his wife had on him, Tom jumped into action and got her inside, agreeing with everything she said if only to keep her calm enough for them to make it to the hospital in one piece. His mind cast back to when they’d received the news they were going to be parents, the overly feminine but very male midwife he had encountered just moments before his wife had come to his rescue. The man just didn’t understand personal space at all. “How was I to know that? The guy was practically rubbing himself against me!”

“You exaggerate too much, now can we please just move it?” Her head fell back against the seat of the car as another wave held her in its powerful grip, strawberry blonde hair fanning out around her as she puffed and panted. “I swear to everything that is holy, I am never having sex with you ever again!”

Smoothing some hair out of her face, Tom gave his wife what he hoped to be a reassuring smile but considering the way her eyes were narrowing at him, he thought otherwise. Putting the car into neutral, he eased out of his parents’ driveway and down the snow covered lane, eyes flitting between his flush faced spouse and the open road. “Don’t panic, Primrose. I’ll get us there in no time!”

“Dammit!” Slamming his hand against the wheel, Tom slumped in his seat, the blizzard that had started a few miles ago now raging wildly. The battery was dead, completely flat as a pancake and they were going nowhere fast. With flecks of snow melting in his hair, he stepped out once more to see if he could jig it back to life. He wasn’t a mechanic by anyone’s terms but he knew a flat battery when he saw one. Blowing hot air onto his hands, Tom pulled his phone out of the inside pocket of his body warmer and tried to get a signal, wondering if there was anywhere they could go.

“There’s a Holiday Inn just around the corner, can you hold on just a teeny bit longer honey?”

“Please, hurry!” Placing cold lips against her over heated skin, Tom blew out a breath of cold air and prepared to push himself, grunting and straining his slight muscles as he pushed the car down the slippery road and around the corner. The bright lights of the welcoming hotel were like heaven to him as he rounded the bend, almost collapsing against the window from the exertion. Hurrying into the hotel’s reception area, the warmth smacked him in the face; sweat beading as he hit the little silver bell for attention. A pair of bright red lips greeted him from behind the desk, accompanied by bleach blonde hair and enough fake tan to coat an entire county.

“Welcome to the Holiday Inn, how may I be of assistance to you?”

“Have you any rooms available?” Shuddering at the waft of cheap perfume and squeaky Essex accent, Tom cursed under his breath at being told they were fully booked, head in his hands. “Please, you must have something! My wife is about to give birth to my child in the front seat of my car, anything?!”

Clicking her ridiculously long nails across her keyboard, the receptionist shook her head, blonde curls bouncing. “I’m sorry sir, no room at the Inn.” She chuckled at her own joke and resumed twirling a piece of fake hair around her chubby brown fingers. “Oh wait! No, I tell a lie. There’s a barn at the side of the building, you’re more than welcome to use that.”

“Great!” Tom shot off like a speeding bullet, shouting a thank you over his shoulder as he got back to the car. Prim had her legs up on the dashboard, breathing heavily, sweat raining down her delicate features. “Come on darling, that’s it, you’re going to be alright.” Helping her out of the car, they made the painstakingly slow journey over to the barn, Tom jumping ahead of her to pull the door open.

Taken aback by the stench of animal excrement among other things he really didn’t want to think about, he led Prim into the dimly lit barn and found a patch of clean ish hay for her to rest on. Lowering himself to the ground, he smoothed the damp hair out of his wife’s eyes, pulling his phone out to contact the midwife for further instruction. “Gabriel, hello! Tom Hiddleston here. My wife Prim is, well she’s in labour right now and we’re stuck in some barn with a load of cows which keep looking at me funny and-”

“Jesus, slow down man!”

“Oh yes, sorry about that, I’m a little over excited and nervous, makes me babble.” Tom chuckled until a wad of hay was thrown in his face. Remembering where he was, he cleared his throat and looked down at his wife as the midwife instructed him on what to do next. “I don’t have any towels though.”

“Thomas, you’re next to a hotel?”

Scowling at the use of his full name, Tom placed a soft kiss to Prim’s sweat drenched forehead and set off back to the hotel in search of towels, wondering if the ambulance he had called in the car would turn up sometime soon. Noticing a bright star, high up in the sky, Tom narrowed his eyes and stopped for a second but the thought left him as soon as he got back to the barn. Prim was breathing heavily now, head lolling back against her make shift bed, sweat pouring out of her. “I want to push!”

“You hear that Gabe? Can I call you Gabe? Never mind, she wants to push! What do I do?!”

“Calm down, that’s what you need to do! Prim needs you to be focused and steady. Now put me on loud speaker.”

“You’re incredibly pushy you know?”

Some miles down the road, an ambulance crew were trying to fight their way through the ever growing snow, the wind screen wipers on over drive. With the GPS system now refusing to work properly, they had to go by gut instinct alone, along with a vague knowledge of the area they were trying to get to. Stopping for a moment to read the map they had found in the back of the glove compartment, the driver glanced up into the sky and saw the brightest star he had ever seen, shining down upon them. “I guess we follow that?”

On the other side of the road, tucked safely away behind trees and mountains, there stood a lowly Shepard, tending his flock. Mucking out the stables, he started to whistle a tune that had been stuck in his head all week. Running a hand through his quickly growing locks, he stood back to survey his land, a hand on his hip. “Know me by name, Shepard of fireeeeee!”

Brows knitted tightly, Tom spared a glance around the doorway to the barn, mouth hanging open slightly at the figure who greeted him, wondering why he was yelling about a Shepard on fire. Looking like some kind of giant, he stood tall and bulky in the softly falling snow. Long, flowing hair whipping against his face in the breeze, he looked back at Tom with the same questioning stare.

“What in god’s name are you bellowing about?”

“…it helps the sheep sleep?”

“Tom! Tom, get back here right now!”

“Sorry Gabe, I’m back.” Stepping back into the barn, the singing farmer in tow, Tom resumed his position at his wife’s feet and urged her on. A strange, breathy sound at his ears had him turning slightly to see the long haired farmer holding Prim’s hand, encouraging her to push.

“What? I’ve delivered countless lambs?”

A low whistle came from the phone as if the device was talking by itself. “Who is that delicious sounding man and why isn’t he in my bed right now?”

“He’s the singing farmer.”

"Is that a talking phone?" Matt pointed to the small device that was currently chattering away. “Name’s Matt by the way.”

An eye roll to beat all eye rolls, Tom huffed into the phone. “Gabe, focus! You can flirt with the weird looking farmer later.”

“Hey! I’m not weird looking!”

“I bet you’re not big boy.”

“I’m disturbed by your thought processes Gabriel.”

“I’m disturbed by your overly curly hair and the fact that you’re allowing your wife to give birth in a barn!”

“Excuse me,” Matt coughed. “I happen to keep a very clean establish- GET OFF OF THERE YOU MANGY CHICKEN!”

“Guys, sorry to interrupt but I’m having a fucking baby here!”

A loud intake of breath came from the phone that was sat on Tom’s knee. “Primrose Hiddleston, there is no need for such vulgar language!”

Prim shouting had all their heads back in the game, Tom jumping into action, whispering words of comfort and endearment to his wife. “Oh my god, I can see the head! Gabe, I can see the fucking head!”

The phone sighed dramatically, “dear lord!”

With encouragement from both Tom and Matt, Gabriel shouting out instructions from the phone, Prim pushed. A set of headlights illuminated them for a second as the shouting became louder and louder, Prim bearing down and pushing with everything she had in her. A crew of ambulance men came crashing through the door as her panting became more vocal, Tom getting clobbered across the head a few times.

Rushing back to the ambulance, the medical staff got what was needed from the back and rushed back into the barn, preparing to deliver but it seemed they were too late. A high pitched scream filled the air, shouts of congratulations along with sniffles coming from the phone. “Uhh, we haven’t got the traditional gifts but, here’s a towel, some tea and… a box of maltesers?”

“Why would you bring gifts?” Then it dawned on him. The whole scene, the barn, the brightly shining star, even Gabriel. “Oh wow…” Surrounded by three ambulance men, a singing Shepard and an overly emotional midwife named Gabriel, the baby was born.

And placed into his arms, wrapped in a Tesco value towel, was a beautiful baby boy. Tears trickled down Tom’s cheeks as he looked into the clear blue eyes of his first born son, feelings overwhelming him. “Elwin Christopher Hiddleston, welcome to this crazy little world.” Pressing his lips to the child’s skin, he inhaled that unique baby smell and sighed happily, looking over to his wife and mouthing his love for her. He had thought the day she agreed to become his wife was the happiest he had ever felt but he’d been wrong. This was, by far, the greatest feeling he had ever experienced. Even if his smart designer shirt was now covered in blood and baby gunk, he didn’t care.

Stepping forward, Matt raised his hands in an apology, reaching forward to pick up the, now blubbing, phone. “Sorry to break up the celebrations but, Gabriel? Would you like to come over and help me ‘muck out the stables’ one day soon?”

“Try and stop me farm boy!” The phone wailed.