Xmas in July

By Claudia Collins

Nurse June Carson wheeled her patient out onto the backyard veranda of his Daylesford home, taking care to set the brake on the chair. The house, built high on the hill, had commanding views over the township, perfect for viewing the New Year’s Eve fireworks. She bustled around seeing to her patient’s comfort. Everything that could possibly be needed was at hand before she poured herself a glass of white wine and relaxed into the deckchair by his side.
“1970! ‘Tis a grand thing that I have lived long enough to see in the new decade,” Paddy Flynn said in his quavery voice. There was nothing wrong with Paddy’s mind. He was as sharp as a tack for all that he was ninety-two. “’Tis me body that is failing me,” he’d told June when she was first hired as his private nurse.
“Hey, with that Neil Armstrong fella walking on the moon and all, why, by the eighties there might well be people living up there,” Paddy said, as he looked up at the night sky.
“I won’t be one of them,” June laughed, “I like to keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank-you very much.”
“Where’s your spirit of adventure, girl?” She poured him a beer. He wasn’t supposed to have alcohol, but it was a special occasion and she couldn’t see the harm in letting him have one glass of beer. “The grog’s not likely to kill me. It hasn’t got me yet!” he winked at her. “I do miss cigars, though. Nothin’ better than a fine cigar with a good port after dinner.”
“I draw the line at cigars. Bloody smelly things.” June wrinkled her nose.
‘And a pert little nose it is too,’ Paddy murmured to himself, for like most old people, he could see beauty in youth, and while June was not exactly beautiful, her features being way too sharp for classical beauty, she had a neat, trim little figure.
Paddy loved the finer things in life. He was proud of his house, his art collection, his antiques, the crystal chandelier, but most of all he loved his cars. He owned a Bentley, painted British Racing Green, and a little red MG. Even though he could no longer drive, he would ask June to wheel him into the garage and whenever his health would allow it, June would pull back the dust covers, and they would polish the cars, with June doing most of the work. After their evening meal, Paddy liked to challenge June to a game of chess, and although he mostly won, he didn’t mind when she beat him occasionally. He approved of intelligent women.
“My wife had a fine brain,” he told June during one of their chess games. “Why, when she wanted something done she was smart enough to convince me that it was really my idea, and before I knew it, she had me working on all kinds of projects. Sometimes I nearly got to sit down!”
They heard the town hall clock chime eleven. A light breeze had sprung up and June fetched Paddy his mohair rug before refreshing her wine. Usually Paddy was in bed asleep by ten, but he was determined to see in the New Year. June sipped her drink and let her mind drift while he chatted to her.

Brisk, capable, and efficient, June knew she was good at her job, and she enjoyed it. Before Paddy, all her private patients had been elderly women. Two had been sweet old biddies, while another had been a right old battle-axe. ‘Now, she was a challenge!’ June reminisced. June had learned that while nursing private patients was hard work, it did have its benefits. Her patients had suffered from loneliness and boredom as much as from illness. She had filled their hours by listening to their stories or reading to them, and she was always careful to preserve their dignity when dealing with the less pleasant duties of nursing. Invariably, they had become fond of her, and if they wished to give her presents, or ‘leave her a little something in their will’, who could blame them? Their families rarely paid them a visit, and on the few occasions that they did, June could see them mentally sizing up what their estates were worth.
Just before old Doris Brown died she had given June her ruby necklace. Then the daughter turned up for the funeral and recognised the necklace. She demanded its return, and even threatened to call the police! Of course, June had to return it. Nothing had been written down and she didn’t have a legal leg to stand on. That taught June a valuable lesson!

“Not long to go now!” Paddy was like an excited school-boy. June checked her diamond wristwatch, a Christmas gift from Paddy. “Who knows what you’ll get next Christmas,” he had said as he handed her the gift-wrapped jewellery box. He’d had the watch engraved too, after she’d told him the story of the ruby necklace, and he let his nephew know that he’d changed his will, “And there is nothing that you can do about it, ‘cause I’m of sound mind and no doctor will say otherwise,” he told him.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!” They clinked glasses and raised them in a toast. “To a long life!” June said gravely. Paddy chuckled. She leaned down to kiss his leathery cheek and they watched the firework display, both of them feeling a tinge of sadness as it drew to a close.

Achieving his ambition to see in the new decade took the last of Paddy’s strength. Always a lucky man, he had a painless death, passing in his sleep three weeks into the new year. The shifty nephew and the greedy nieces appeared for the funeral. The will was read, the appraisers called in, and the real-estate agents. There was probate and the assets were frozen, and then a court battle as the relatives, each armed with a lawyer, fought over Paddy’s possessions.
The will stood. Paddy’s doctor gave evidence that he was of sound mind. ‘After all, I was not the only person from the medical profession to have been beaten at chess by Paddy,’ June smiled to herself.
Paddy was fair. Each relative received an equal amount, but the bulk of his estate went to the Lost Dogs Home. Paddy had always liked dogs. June approved. She liked dogs too.
And as for June? Well she was left the little red MG. Christmas had come early for her this year.
Xmas in July.