Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: COFFEE BREAK / TEA BREAK (03/01/18)
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TITLE: At Precisely 4 Chimes | Previous Challenge Entry
By PamFord Davis
03/08/18 -
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I awake with the sound of kitty scratching at the bedroom door; seeing my love’s twin bed undisturbed, I know he has had another sleepless night. Fighting back tears, I wrap my chenille robe around me and slip into well worn slippers. After quick toiletry tasks, I prod my way into the dark and dank kitchen. It suits my disposition.
Head up, shoulders back …
Memories of earlier days in finishing school (and rudimentary rules by our dorm mother) draw me to attention.
Smirking, I stand upright, open café curtains and put the kettle on to boil. With a grip on the handle of the ice box, I open its door and methodically reach for cream to pour into kitty’s dish and set some aside for breakfast tea.
No room for self-pity today; he needs me.
Hearing a welcome sound of whistling from the kettle, I turn off gas jets and carry my favorite teacup and saucer to the table. A wedding engagement gift from Aunt Margaret, the saucer is chipped; yet, I cannot make myself part with it. It’s like my marriage; Pug has his annoying quirks but a solid marriage endures…
Parting with my persistent worry is a pipe dream.
I trudge through daytime housework; all the while, I keep a keen ear for his opening of the wrought iron gate.
At precisely 4 chimes, I hear the squeak of rusty hinges.
He’s home!
Wiping perspiration from clammy brow, I hasten to welcome him at the doorway.
I never tire of his return.
Seeing him distraught breaks my heart. Why doesn’t he just give up?
He adamantly refuses; he will not succumb to defeat. Enveloping my plump body with his embrace he quips, ‘Kat, aren’t you going to invite me in for tea?’
My laughter releases healing endorphins. With upturned hand in the direction of his library, I suggest that he go ahead and wait for me there. I’ll prepare tea and join him in a jiffy.
The mundane task of preparing tea steadies jangled nerves. With the discovery of a nearly empty biscuit jar, I add 2 of his favorite scones to the servings. Boiling water merges with tea in a Brown Betty and I give thanks to the good Lord above; He has seen fit to keep Pug of sound body and mind.
Watching my step over thread bare throw rugs, I carry the serving tray down the hall to his library.
Rising from his favorite chair, he greets me at the door.
‘Let me take that.’
I acquiesce and remove yesterday’s crumpled newspaper from the table next to his chair.
‘Set it here, dear.’
As he does, kitty darts out from behind the library desk and scampers out the door.
Pug jostles the pot and steaming tea streams down the sleeve of his jacket.
‘Slip that off before you scald yourself!’
Crisis averted, he settles back into his chair while I pour tea for him; then me.
‘I hope I didn’t wake you when I left this morning. You tossed and turned all night, even mumbled something about me being in danger.’
‘Did I? Likely a good case of indigestion from that horseradish I ate.’
I know good and well; it was another nightmare.
He adds a 2nd cube of sugar to his tea and stirs repeatedly.
Why must he do that? After all of these years, he should realize how much the clanking of a spoon irritates me!
I won’t let on…
Trying not to reveal my greatest fears I ask if he has any news of England’s long awaited arrival of the allies.
‘Kat, they will come; have faith. Be patient; never give up!’
Tears run down my cheeks as I run out of courage and in desperation cry out to God.
‘Dear God, let this be the day! Deliver us from the evils of this war!’
Churchill gets up and goes across the room to offer solace. Still standing, he lowers his arms and places open palms upon my drooping shoulders.
Unable to stifle sobs, I give way to months of pent up emotions. In wisdom, he remains silent. I need his touch far more than anything he might say. As tears subside, I place my hands on top of his. He breaks the silence.
‘Never, never, never give up!’
*Writers comments: Winston Churchill used 'Kat' as a nickname for his wife; she called him 'Pug.' Researching, I read that Winston Churchill did not use the terms of 'Never, never, never give up.'{Reference: Quora} He reportedly said: "never give in, never, never, never, never—in nothing, great or small, large or petty—never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense."[10/29/1941]
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This was a great read, I loved that it was based on "Churchill" --- and I felt as if I was there during your descriptive piece.
Nicely done!
Blessings to you~
Oh my goodness! I am singing with joy over here...so happy that your entry made it into the circle of the judges eyes!
I was so hoping it'd get recognition! I truly enjoyed it and so happy for you!
Congratulations my friend!
Blessings~
I found this story quite intriguing. I had no idea that it was a historical piece until the very end. I am glad you had some time to research.