Julia lay sprawled across the old settee, her cheeks streaked with bitter tears. Not many months ago, her husband confessed to her. There was another womanand she was expecting a child.
Julia, Im sorry, but, well, its been two years and no children. Thats a good run. Id started doubting myself, stammered Geoffrey. But now Anyway, shes pregnant.
Mistress, Julia whispered, the word feeling strange between her lips.
Call it what you will. The baby will be here soon. Im sorry.
Julia didnt bother to question why Geoffrey had waited so long, or why he chose to leave on the cusp of Christmas and just weeks before the childs birth. Worn out and drained of tears, she hadnt even undressed before collapsing onto the settee. All that remained to her now was the memory of a distant Christmas morning from her own girlhood.
She thought back to when she was eleven, still at school. After lessons one frosty afternoon, she and the other girls had hurried to the local charity shop. The little shop on the High Street held an air of magic, its bric-a-brac and old treasures like the relics of a fairy tale.
Theyd always ignored the racks of dull clothes. Their eyes sparkled only for the trinkets: ornaments, odd bits of jewellery, and wind-up toys.
That day, Julias gaze was caught by a most exquisite music box: a sky-blue jewel edged with delicate gilding. She was transfixed. When the shopkeeper opened the lid, a melody of bells and strings floated out, and from the blue velvet interior, a tiny ballet dancer arose and began to spin. Julia hardly dared to breathe, enchanted. The shopkeeper then revealed a secretthe tiniest drawer, perfect for hiding rings or treasures.
Her friends, Nancy and Betty, pressed closer, their voices a chorus of awe.
Fancy that! How lovely! Nancy exclaimed, unable to resist. How much for it?
The kindly shopkeeper named a price quite out of reach for little girls: five pounds.
Ill never save so much, Julia thought, dismayed. School dinners cost only a couple of shillings back then, enough for pie and pudding. If she fibbed about going to the pictures, her mother might give her fifty pence. But her father was away in Sheffield with work and wouldnt be home for a week, and asking Mum was useless.
She could all but hear her mothers shrill retort in her mind. What nonsense! A ballerina for five quid? Id rather buy a joint of beef or a roasting chicken and keep you all fed for a week.
NoJulia dared not mention the music box. Shed simply have to wait for Dad.
Each day after school, Julia slipped into the shop to look at her ballerina. The shopkeeperalways smilingwould wind the music box and set the dancer spinning, just for her. In six days, Julia memorised every detail: the slight chip on one corner, a missing ballet shoe, and a tiny, pinprick stain on the white tutu. But all these little flaws only made her love it more.
The day her father came home, Julia begged him to take her to the shop. But the shopkeepers sad news met them at the door. Gone, Im afraidjust this morning. Someone else snapped it up.
Hot tears welled up as Julia wept openly. Her father tried to console her.
Julia, dont be upset! Ill buy you that trifle cake you love, the one with the chocolate mushrooms on top. Lets go now.
Julia nodded, appetite dulled by heartbreak, but for the ballerinas sake, she still cried.
Matters worsened the next morning when Betty arrived at school with none other than the music box. Seeing that her treasure belonged to her friend now tore at Julias heart.
Betty wound it, and the music box twirled and played. Even the boys fell silent, gazing in wonder. Preening, Betty announced, My Gran brought this for our New Years partyshe came up from Cornwall and I begged her for it. Ive been eyeing it all week!
So have I, Nancy added with a sulky huff.
Julia couldnt bear it and burst into tears.
Peter Rushworth, a gangly lad, asked, Whats up, Julia?
Nothing! She blurted and fled, dashing past him. Everyone knew Peter fancied her. The other girls envied that, but Julia hadnt given him much thought.
She pressed her forehead to the frosty glass window, trying to compose herself.
Peter approached quietly. Julia, Ill find you one just like it. Please, dont cry.
Oh, Peter, where would you look? Dont be silly! Julia snapped and ran outside, deeply cross with herself for lashing out at him.
She stayed in the playground for half an hour in the biting cold, and, predictably, caught a fever. Later that day, Peter visited, hearing she was absent from class.
Ive not found the dancer yet, he told her solemnly, but I will. Promise.
Dont be daft, Peter. Youll never find one. Its a foreign makesays so underneath: ‘Made in Germany.’ Where will you get one of those? Julia replied, trying not to hope.
Germany, is it? Ill go if I must, he replied, as though it were nothing at all.
From that day, they became friendsat first, childhood companions, then, by the time they were sixteen, a gentle romance grew. Peter dared to kiss her one chilly evening, and Julia didnt pull away. From then on, they were inseparable, lost in first love.
But after their last year of school, Peter left for National Service, postedby cruel chanceto Germany. He wrote to Julia, sometimes joking that he was still hunting for a music box dancer.
Half a year before Peter returned, Julia met Geoffrey. He charmed her utterly, singing and playing a song hed made up just for her at a gathering. Her heart melted. Two months later, they were married.
Peter came home to find Julia a wife. Hurt, he shipped out on a fishing boat bound for Norway, rarely returning, and he and Julias paths never again crossed.
Years later, Julia, alone, stood up from the old settee, her mind wandering back to Peter. It was strangeher tears were not entirely for Geoffrey, but for what might have been with Peter Rushworth. Where was he now? Was he married?
It was the thirty-first of December. Julia couldnt bear to visit her friends, all celebrating with their families. Instead, she ventured out to the market and the grocers, picking up what she could afford to brighten her solitary evening.
As she wearily entered her building with shopping in hand, the lift doors opened and out stepped Father Christmas himself. At the sight, Julias eyes brimmed with tears once more.
Whats all this, my dear? boomed a mans voice, putting on an old mans tone. Its Christmas! Come now, no need for tears. From his sack, he produced a box, thrust it into her arms, and vanished into the dusk before she could say a word.
Inside, the box was heavy. Julia hurried to the kitchen and carefully lifted the lid.
There, nestled in blue velvet, was a new music boxsky blue, edged with gold. She wound it, and the little ballerina spun; both shoes present, the tune sweet as ever. In the secret drawer she found a wedding ring shining in the lamplight.
Julia flew to the window. In the gathering gloom, she could make out Father Christmass figure idling in the square. Julia dashed down in her slippers, hesitating by the door for just a moment.
Then Father Christmas turnedand in a flash, both recognised each other. Julia pressed herself to the familiar warmth of Peters coat and whispered, You fool! You really did find it, after all.
Peter grinned, his breath smoky in the cold air. Told you I would, didnt I? Found it in Germany, just like I promisedHand in hand, they crossed the snowy square, laughter mingling with the distant chime of midnight bells. The years of sorrow slipped away as they walked, shoulders brushing, neither caring about footprints vanishing behind them. Above, new snowflakes spun like music box dancers, weaving hope into the night air.
Inside, Julia set the music box on the window ledge, winding it once more. Peter knelt beside her, pressing the gleaming ring into her palm. Ive waited too long already, he said, eyes searching hers. Lets not lose another minute.
Tears spilled again, but now they glimmered with happiness. As the little ballerina spun, Julia felt her heart unwind: the ache of old regrets, the emptiness, silenceand in their place, the gentle rhythm of second chances.
Outside, fireworks blossomed over rooftops, bright and sudden. Julia reached for Peters hand, and with the midnight sky blazing behind them, she finally dared to believe in her own new yeara life not lost, but begun anew.
And all through the house, the soft music played, carrying them forward into the bright, unknown dawn.
