The Night before Christmas  - A Christmas Tale for Grown-ups – Jane Osborne

Once upon a time in a quiet suburb of St. Petersburg there lived a rather beautiful piglet called Zola. In her youth she had been the toast of the Oink State Ballet of Russia, twirling on her points and chasséing across stages the world over. Now in her twilight years, she spent her days in quiet solitude, walking round her capacious gardens. But on cold, frosty afternoons she could be found in her very cosy sitting room presiding over the samovar, as she hosted yet another tea party for elderly fans and young ingénues who came to pay homage to this grande cochonette.

Her oldest friend and dearest companion who was always by her side was the delightful Monsieur Marphee who had himself been a well-known performer of the trapeze from the Moscow State Circus, a diminutive dapper man with bright eyes and a twirling moustache. Together they would visit friends, art galleries, make little sojourns into the country by sleigh, and when the weather became too inclement and the blizzards threatened to cut off St. Petersburg from the rest of the world they would sit by the fire in the cosy sitting room and reminisce about their exploits as young performers during the time of Tsar Nicholas.

One morning in the depths of winter they decided to visit the Neva River, the widest river in St. Petersburg, as they had heard that it had completely frozen over. They could hear the whoops and shouts of many of their young neighbours as they made their way, skates in hand, down to the icy river’s edge for a day of swirling and pirouetting on the ice.

The grand avenue in front of their garden gate led them through a winter wonderland, a landscape of trees, boughs heavy with snow, and little rivulets and tributaries rushing to meet the great frozen wastes of the Neva. As they carefully picked their way along the icy path they heard piteous little cries from the bank of a little stream. Upon investigation they ascertained that Mrs. Miloushka Mallard and her brood had been rudely awakened in the early hours by Mr. Fedora Fox. So badly frightened and bruised was she, after fighting his advances off for hours that she could only lie in shock on the bank in a perilous state. Her children in the meantime were engaged in squawking as loudly as possible, trying to attract somebody’s attention. Luckily it proved to be not another predator but the kindly Madame Zola and Monsieur Marphee.

Madame Zola and Monsieur Marphee were so overcome by what they saw that they immediately realised they would have to cut short their proposed outing. Madame Zola stayed with the dazed and by now quite weak Miloushka and her distraught ducklings whilst Monsieur Marphee returned to the house to rouse the coachmen who brought the sleigh with blankets to the end of the avenue and thence to the rivulet which until a few hours before had been the home of Mrs. Miloushka Mallard and her brood. The sleigh arrived forthwith and soon the little ducklings and their mother were wrapped in blankets of fur, being carried back to the house of Madame Zola.

“What a dreadful thing” tufted Mrs. Tolenka the housekeeper as she bustled about and tried to make her new charglings comfortable.

“Yes,” said Alexii, the youngest member of the downy brood, “It really fwightened me and poor mummy has teeth marks all over her neck and tummy.”

“Never mind,” Mrs. Tolenka replied, “Today is Christmas Eve and tomorrow is Christmas Day. We’ll put up the Christmas tree tonight and tomorrow we’ll all have a lovely time.”

Later that afternoon the gardener arrived with a beautiful tall Christmas tree which just touched the ceiling of the cosy sitting room. Madame Zola, Monsieur Marphee, Mrs. Miloushka Mallard and her offspring spent a happy evening covering the tree with sparkly red baubles, tinsel, chocolates tied on with gold thread, and at the top of the tree, Monsieur Marphee, perched on a little wooden stepladder, balanced a beautiful golden haired angel in a ruby rich full length dress tied with a silver sash, who looked down on them all beatifically. Then Mrs. Mallard and her babies were put to bed in a box in front of the dampened down fire in the cosy sitting room to keep them safe and warm and everyone retired for the night.

In the early hours of the morning, as the snow swirled around the streets of St. Petersburg, one inhabitant was not asleep. So sensitive were his nostrils that despite the weather he was able to follow the scent of the quarry he had been unable to despatch the previous day. Mr. Fedora Fox, with his paws on the french windows was peering through the glass and with a mighty shove he forced the latch open. Flurries of snow and wind burst into the cosy sitting room. Mrs. Mallard woke up with a start. Her ducklings were flapping and squeaking with flight.

Mr. Fedora Fox was advancing stealthily, ready for the kill, when he got the fright of his life. Standing astride the ducklings, swinging a heavy silver sword from side to side (which was getting perilously close to the snout of Mr. F) was an enormous angel with long golden hair in a ruby rich full length robe tied around the waist with a silver sash. The angel motioned the ducks to get behind him and went in for the kill. Mr. Fedora Fox did not need to be told twice. He threw himself into the snowdrift outside the french windows and, galloping down the garden path, he took off over the garden gate into the grand avenue and was gone.

Mrs. Miloushka Mallard looked up to say thank you to the magnificent being that had just saved the lives of both herself and her children but the angel was nowhere to be found. Outside the wind howled and although the french windows rattled, they were firmly shut and everything was quiet and peaceful in the cosy sitting room in front of the dampened down fire.

By the time Madame Zola peeped round the door of the cosy sitting room the next morning to check that all was well with her new guests, the sun was shining and the bells in the church tower were ringing out. Mrs. Miloushka Mallard and the ducklings were able to tell her of their second brush with death during the night. News spread quickly and soon Monsieur Marphee, Mrs. Tolenka, Ivanivich the gardener and even the coachmen all came to visit to assure themselves that their little visitors were safe and untouched.

Christmas Day passed happily for Madame Zola, Monsieur Marphee and all their unexpected guests with much laughter and high spirits, and from the top of the Christmas tree the angel looked down on them beatifically, that is the angel with the long golden hair, dressed in a ruby rich full length robe tied around the waist with a silver sash to which there was now attached a small silver sword.