A Night to Remember
After the hoo ha, all was quiet and at last we were alone. A bed had been moved into your father’s study with its fearsome draughts from the enormous sash window. The empty champagne glasses and the bulbous brass door knob gleamed in the dying firelight - the cream – tiled fifties fireplace at odds with the Victorian skirting boards and picture rails, but before central heating, we were thankful for some extra warmth on that icy February night.
Through a chink in the curtains I glimpsed daffodils, ghostly in the moonlight. Too excited to sleep I studied my new love - your hair the colour of treacle toffee, darker than your brother’s golden syrup coloured hair and you a whole pound heavier. You snuffled and PING the milk came in. I’d eschewed the champagne brought by my sister and husband, so no tummy ache for you. Too excited to sleep I relished this precious time with you before the rest of our world joined us. What larks we’d have.
Happy Birthday darling!