A Winter Tale

When Quinn was six, her Grandmother gave her the first snowglobe.

It was small and had a white base, and inside the glass dome stood Father Christmas. His sack of toys by his feet, waving one hand in the air whilst the other was on his belly. Quinn's parents had thought that a snowglobe was too much of a fragile thing to give to a six year old, but her 'Nana Lu-lu' had tsked, hushing both of them as she pulled little Quinn into her lap. Explaining to her that snowglobes, no matter how big or small, held complete other worlds.

Quinn could find, if she looked hard enough, a world where every day was Christmas day. A world where children ate cookies for breakfast and Ice-cream for dinner. A world where Belle from Beauty and The Beast got to spend Christmas with the Beast in his castle. Even a world where she and her friends could spend all their time curled in front of a fire, endless cups of hot chocolate appearing right when they needed them, and her Grandmother's pet bulldog, Peach, cuddled with them.

That was nearly sixteen years ago. Unfortunately for Quinn, her Grandmother passed away at the beginning of the year. She knew it had been coming, the health of the older woman had been deteriorating since Quinn turned twenty. First it was just a cold, then it was an infection, then the doctors found something that wasn't supposed to be in her lungs, and the next thing Quinn knew she was driving her Grandmother to and from the hospital every week for chemotherapy. Six years the old girl had managed to fight it, but after the elderly woman had caught yet another cold, her body just didn't have it in her anymore.

The funeral was almost ten months ago now, but Quinn still kept the program from it in the drawer her bedside table. Her fiance, Harrison, had been her rock since it had happened. He had gotten the chance to meet Nana Lu-lu before she had passed, so he knew how close the pair were, and he was the one that managed to coax Quinn out of bed on the day of her funeral. He held her hand, soothed her while she cried, and when they got home, he made her tea and toast, and they spent the day on the sofa together. A photo-album between them as Quinn told him stories about each photo.

Harrison didn't mind the collection of seventeen snowglobes that Quinn kept dotted around their flat, in fact, he often found himself shaking a couple of them and watching the little scenes inside turn into miniature winter wonderlands with a smile on his face.

The couple owned a small flat in a village in England, about four hours outside of London. Harrison worked as an editor, so Quinn really only saw him at weekends, when he would make the four hour train journey back home to her. Quinn of course spent some of her time in London with him, in the flat his company pay for for him, but she always ended up with the worst home-sickness. Longing for her own bed, and her snowglobes.

Now was one of those times, she had just said goodbye to Harrison at Kings Cross train station, and even though she knew she'd see him in two days, it didn't stop her heart from breaking a little. The train was warm, and she was thankful since it had been snowing outside for near on a week now. She passed the time with her book, and before she knew it the train was pulling up at her stop.

To call the 'train station' a station always seemed kind of silly to Quinn. It wasn't much more than a little wooden hut with a hanging flower basket and a bench. However, it was home. Quinn pulled her small suitcase onto the slightly raised platform, and took a minute to adjust her scarf so it was completely covering her neck. The warmth of the train seemed like a distant memory now, and she considered getting a taxi back to her flat, until she checked her purse and found less than two pounds in there. She sighed, pulling herself together, and starting the walk home.

For such a small village, it often surprised Quinn just how many people lived there. Everyone knew everyone, and several times Quinn was stopped by someone she'd met no more than once or twice and wished a merry Christmas, or a happy holidays, or in the case of one elderly lady - "Where's that handsome fellow of yours? Hasn't dumped you right before Christmas, has he? That bugger!"

Between the interruptions and the still heavy falling snow, it took Quinn nearly forty-five minutes to walk home. She sighed when she reached the door to the close, and quickly dug her keys out of her pocket. Letting herself in to the somewhat unsightly building before making her way up the stairs to the middle floor. She chapped on her neighbours door, jumping back when it opened almost immediately.

"Oh, Quinn! Hello, dear!" Her neighbour, Mrs. Brown, smiled at her. She was a small, plump woman, whos flat always smelled of bleach and dish-soap. Her eyes were a warm, welcoming brown, and her graying hair was always kept up in a bun. Quinn had only seen it down once in the whole time she'd lived here, and that was when the building got evacuated during the summer because of a fire alarm.

"Hello, Mrs. Brown." Quinn smiled, "I was just checking to see that Oscar wasn't too much trouble?"

"Not at all, my love! Good as gold as always!" Mrs. Brown chirped, reaching behind her front door to hand Quinn back her spare front door key. Quinn thanked the woman, wishing her a good day and heading across the hall to her own front door. The sound of her key in the lock made Oscar start barking, and Quinn found herself smiling as she pushed the heavy door open. Her own bulldog, who looked similar to the one her grandmother had when she was a child, came bounding down the hallway towards her, barking and slobbering everywhere. Quinn smiled, kneeling down to greet the bounding pup.

"Hello, Oscar." She cooed, rubbing between his ears and letting him lick at her hands. "Were you good for Mrs. Brown?" She asked, standing back up and pulling her suitcase into the hallway. She closed the door with a heavy sigh, and felt an instant sense of ease – she was so happy to be home.

Kicking off her boots and hanging up her jacket and scarf, Quinn dragged her suitcase into her's and Harrison's bedroom. She would unpack later, but for now she dug out her comfiest, fluffiest pyjamas from the bottom drawer of the old oak dresser, grabbed the nearest pair of warm socks, and her red house-coat which Harrison always called her 'Santa robe', and slid it on. Oscar was waiting for her in the hallway, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth like it had always done, and his head tilted sideways.

"He'll be home in two days." Quinn nodded, answering the question she knew Oscar would be asking, where was Harrison? As much as Quinn loved her silly pup, she was slightly offended that he appeared to love her fiance more than her.

Oscar followed Quinn as she padded back down the hallway, turning on the heating as she passed. It was only the third week of November, but Quinn already had the Christmas tree box waiting in the corner of the living room. She would have had it up now, if she was being entirely honest, but Harrison didn't agree with putting up the tree any sooner than December 1st. Every perfect person has one flaw, Quinn mused. She flicked on the string of fairy lights she had hung along the top of the curtain pole and drew the blinds, the soft light of the small lights already making her feel more cozy.

Now, Quinn knew their flat wasn't much. Especially compared to the three-bedroom maisonette that Harrison's company had put them up in in London. It was only a one-bedroom, one-bathroom deal, but she liked to think she'd made it home. She'd found an old, but still entirely usable couch in a second-hand shop, and after a little bit of bargaining, she'd brought it home for just under £150. It was leather, and it's age showed through all of the wrinkles, but Quinn had covered it with warm, cream and brown blankets, and fluffy throw pillows.

The middle of the room held a small, but sturdy, coffee table. It was littered with old mail and crumbs from when Mrs. Brown had obviously helped herself to some toast. Quinn didn't mind, she just brushed them into her hand and disposed of them in the bin down the side of the sofa. Amidst the crumbs, the mail, and the candles that smelled of vanilla, sat the snowglobe Quinn's grandmother had given her that very first Christmas. The white of the base had started to turn yellow with age, but Quinn still loved it. She picked it up and gave it a gentle shake, watching the tiny snowflakes fall around the always jolly Santa. It never failed to make Quinn's heart warm.

Aside from the couch and coffee table, the only other furniture they had was a small TV, a few lamps, and a mirror hung above a sideboard made of the same oak as their bedroom dresser. The room was barely big enough for the two of them to have company in, but it was away from the city, and it was theirs.

Quinn turned on the TV, the low hum of it providing her the perfect background noise as she made herself her supper. A hot chocolate with marshmallows, and toast covered with strawberry jam. She knew that if Harrison were here he would have made her eat something more, especially after being on the train for so long, but she really felt more than happy with what she had. She made her way back into the living room, placing her plate and mug on the coffee table and falling onto the couch. She smiled, pulling a pillow between her knees and covering her feet with the blanket.

"What shall we watch, Oscar?" She mused, patting the space beside her so the pup could jump up beside her. He circled a few times, before finally settling down with his head on her lower legs. He let out a sigh. Quinn reached over to scratch the top of his head before leaning to grab her toast and the TV remote. It didn't take long for Quinn to settle on an early showing of <i>It's A Wonderful Life</i>, and she snuggled herself down deeper into the couch.

She was so happy to be home.