Fireside Romance Book 1: First Flames by Drew Hunt

becoming our favourite position, and I wasn’t about to complain. “You know,” Mark continued, “Chinese take away reminds me of home. A good memory, though. We’d do our supermarket shopping on a Thursday night. This was when Mum was still alive. On the way home we’d pick up a take away. As we walked around the supermarket, I’d be thinking about what I would order. Now every time I visit a supermarket, I can’t help thinking about Chop Suey or special fried rice.”
    We both laughed.
    “Why don’t we make it a tradition here? I’ve always done the supermarket shopping on a Thursday evening as well. It wouldn’t take us too much out of our way to get Chinese on the way home.”
    “Could we? That would mean a lot.”
    “Then that’s what we’ll do.” I kissed Mark on the top of his head. He wriggled contentedly in my arms.
    Flicking through the four TV channels we had in those days—this was before cable and satellite came on stream—we decided there wasn’t anything worth watching. Mark decided he’d like to watch a video.
    “So, what would you like to see?” I asked him.
    “Have you got Carry On, Doctor ?”
    “Yes. It’s my favourite one of the series.”
    “Mine too. I know it isn’t a quality film, but it makes me laugh,” Mark said.
    “When it comes down to it, that’s all that matters.”
    “True,” Mark replied.
    We cuddled up and watched the film. It was good to see Mark laughing after the painful revelations he had disclosed earlier in the day.
    As the tape was re-winding, someone knocked at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I slipped on the security chain before opening it.
    “Can we sing a few carols for yer, mister?”
    Three little boys, and an older boy, possibly a brother of one or more of them, stood on my doorstep.
    I smiled. “Okay then.”
    In most places the carol singers would sing first and then knock on the door. However, this being the north of England, no bunch of carol singers worth their salt would sing to an empty house, or to anyone who hadn’t promised to pay them after they had sung. Mark came and stood next to me by the partially opened door. We listened to a couple of carols—like all children, including myself at that age—they only knew the first verse of any carol. However, that didn’t matter. It was one of the things which marked the beginning of Christmas for me. That and the Salvation Army band playing in the town square.
    When the carol singers finished, I gave them 20p. Mark and I then wished them a Merry Christmas. I turned round after locking the door to face Mark. He was smiling.
    “Aw, wasn’t that sweet?”
    “Christmas is certainly coming now.”
    “Do you think we could get a tree? I don’t mean a real one. Just a small artificial one, with some lights and stuff?”
    “Why not? I’ve never bothered with one before, but it would make a nice symbol of our first Christmas.” The first of many, I hoped.
    Mark’s whole face lit up.
    “And I suppose you’ll want miles of tinsel, baubles and flashing lights too?” I asked, a smile on my face.
    “But of course!”
    “We need to go out tomorrow to get your bandages changed, so we can get all the stuff then. I think Woolies was having a sale on decorations the last time I looked.”
    “Great. Can we have a fairy for the top, too?”
    I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Why not?”
    Mark laughed excitedly. Which to my ears was a wonderful sound. I’d buy the whole of Woolworth’s Christmas department if it would make him happy.
    Just then the phone rang.
    “We are popular this evening.” I said as I walked towards the instrument. “Hello?”
    “Hello, Simon .” It was my mother. We rang each other on alternate Sundays as it was cheap rate at the weekend. We were Yorkshire folk, so of course we were careful with our money.
    “Hello, Mum, how are you and Dad?”
    “We’re fine, love. I was just ringing to ask if you were coming down here for Christmas.”
    “Err, no,