Selina Scrooge

Selina Metcalf looked bleakly around her immaculate flat. She did not see the cool-white walls although her eyes lingered briefly on the print of Munch's 'The Scream'. A visitor would have removed his shoes at the door for fear of scratching the ebony wood or leaving a smudge on the white rug. But visitors were rare. Selina, reflecting the elegance of her flat, was dressed for work in a black trouser suit with a white blouse. Her hair, once naturally raven, shone glossily onto her shoulders emphasising the pallor of her complexion. The only relief from monochrome was the scarlet, thin lips, now grimacing with her dark thoughts.

Nearly Christmas-can't bear it - loathe this time of the year, fog, rain tinsel and all that fucking bon-homie. I could feign a migraine, miss the office party but then they'd really let their hair down. Can't have that. She sighed as she pulled on her long boots and sighed again fastening the buttons on her coat. She stifled another as she met a neighbour in the lift and even managed the ghost of a smile but said nothing. 

Her Porsche was waiting, the one true indulgent pleasure in her life. The engine would start at a touch and throb, impatient as a stallion, to be off, streaking down the road. She opened the door and was assaulted by the memory of being a little girl in Dad's sports car. He'd loved his cars too. They'd all been singing, 'Jingle Bells' when Mum screamed, “Too close...... John, brake!” A huge bang; violent tumbling. Her leg hurt so much. She remembered screaming and screaming. The nurses soothed her; told her everything would be alright. She kept asking to see Mummy. The doctor finally told her the truth.

She quashed the memory like stepping on a cockroach, furious that it could still make her eyes prick with tears after all this time. She threw herself behind the wheel shut the door and started the engine The car leapt in response. It overtook everything, exceeded the speed limit; even jumped a red light. The concentration required calmed the turmoil and she felt a tingle of excitement, flirting with danger.

The exhilaration of the drive evaporated as Selina reached the glass fronted entrance to her suite of offices and swept through it to the lift. Her expression was grim as she stepped out to be greeted by the anxious, tentative smile of Gloria, her PA.

‘Good morning Miss Metcalf,’ Gloria's welcoming smile shrank as she recognised the mood. They were in for a rough day. Why did a woman of wealth and impressive business acumen go through life a perpetual bitch? It was no surprise when the return to her greeting was a curt nod, as Selina entered her office and slammed the door. Gloria counted the seconds, knowing her boss would look at the diary laid out on her desk, fire up her computer and then call her in. The count reached seventy-one when the intercom buzzed.

‘Yes Miss Metcalf?’

‘Come in here Gloria, I've made a decision.’

 She entered the room in trepidation, clutching her notebook. Selina stood behind her desk glaring at her PA, manicured hands on her hips. She paced up and down as she spat out the words.

‘I’m sick to death of Christmas and all the hype. I'm not pandering to it this year. Send a memo to everyone saying there will be no office party, no decorations or Christmas cards. I will have to honour the holiday; that's fixed but next year there will be some changes.’

‘No Christmas party? Oh Seli.......Miss Metcalf. We were so looking forward to it. Everything has been arranged at the King’s Head. Have I really got to....?’ She paused as she saw the thunderous expression on her boss’ face. Cowering, Gloria backed away saying,

‘I’ll send it right away. Was there anything else?’ 

‘Yes, the memo should also state that, effective immediately, there will be no seasonal bonus this year.’

‘No bonus?’

‘That's what I said. Is there something wrong with your hearing? That'll be all.’

 Gloria did not move, shocked into immobility. 

‘Go Gloria. What are you waiting for?’

‘Nothing Miss Metcalf, sorry.’ 

She left the office shutting the door quietly and leant on it for a moment trying to hold back the tears that brimmed in her eyes. No bonus, no party. She sat down at her desk to send the memo that would upset everyone working for that evil witch.

Selina, feeling a surge of relief and satisfaction, set up her computer so that it would block anything with the word Christmas. At least the dreaded C word could be avoided at work. She spared no thought for any of her employees.

On the other side of the door the memo had been sent and the counting was happening again in Gloria's head as she waited for the reactions. Just thirty seconds then Peter rang from Sales.

‘What’s she up to Gloria? Is she really banning Christmas? Has she suddenly got anti-religion or what?’

‘Sorry, Peter, she really means it. You should‘ve seen her face when I tried to object! The worse bit is no bonus. I was counting on that to buy a few treats for the little ones.’

‘Yea, that’s really rough. I don’t know how you manage on your wage with all those mouths to feed.’

‘Thanks Peter. I’d better not be caught chatting. I think she'd fire me just for smiling at the moment. Not that I've got anything to smile about. Must get back to work now, bye.’ Gloria had no wish to discuss her difficulties with Peter. He was Sales Manager on a high salary, single, attractive, no responsibilities. Once she'd hoped he might notice her but a relationship was out of the question now. Three brothers, two sisters, all younger than herself, and an ailing grandfather to feed on just her measly wage and his basic pension. As she thought about them, wishing her parents were still alive, the tears began to flow. It wasn't fair. Looking balefully at the closed door she thought how much Selina had, yet the vindictive woman had taken away the bonus that meant so much. The anger helped her to gain control. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose and tried to concentrate on typing a letter.

That evening Gloria decided not to tell the family about her disappointment. She would manage somehow even if it meant running up a bill on her credit card, something she hated doing. It was Saturday tomorrow, the last one before Christmas so she would buy those little treats and the food they would need and worry about paying for it next month. 

The rest of her weekend was spent preparing for Christmas. She made old fashioned paper chains with the youngest children and decorated the faded artificial tree. As they worked happily together, she knew she had wealth beyond money and even spared a moment to feel sorry for Selina, who had plenty of money but no family.

Meanwhile, Selina sat in her clinical flat trying hard to avoid Christmas but reminders were constant on all the media. On Sunday evening she turned on the television only to find a musical version of Scrooge. As she turned it off, she grimaced. I'm a female Scrooge, she thought. Selina Scrooge: it goes well. At least no ghosts will haunt me. They’d know it was no use trying. Feeling in need of some mindless entertainment she chose a recorded horror film, and settled down on her white, leather settee to watch it. 

When it was finished, she got ready for bed still thinking about the film. How could anyone find them really frightening? There was no evidence that ghosts, vampires or werewolves existed. It was all rubbish really.

Once snuggled, alone in her super-king-sized bed, Selina fell asleep easily but awoke a few hours later drenched in sweat and shaking. Was she ill? She changed into fresh night clothes and fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. It was unusual for her to wake up in the middle of the night, she mused. She returned to the bedroom, halted abruptly, her eyes open wide with surprise when she saw an incredibly handsome man sitting on her bed in full evening dress. He smiled and spoke quietly with a faint hiss accompanying every word.

‘I hope I haven’t frightened you. I heard you were rejecting Chrissstmass this year sso I thought I would pay you a little visit.’ He stood up and bowed. ‘Ssatan, at your sservice.’ Believing she was dreaming, Selina responded coldly. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts. I don’t believe in God and I certainly don’t believe in the devil so you can just get out of my head!’

‘But my dear Sselina, I'm not in your head. I'm in your bedroom. You’re not dreaming. This is a real meeting of like mindss. In fact what you’ve just said about your beliefss confirmss you really are ready for recruitment into my very exssclusive club.’

‘What do you mean? Go away or I'll call the police.’ She felt threatened but was still convinced she was dreaming.

‘You’re not assleep, I’m really here and I’m going to show you some of my other recruitss, ancient and modern.’ 

Before she could speak the room revolved in a sickening way. It picked up speed and spun and when it stopped, they were in a dank dungeon, water running down the walls. In front of her was a medieval rack, the creaking of the wooden ratchet almost drowned by the screams of the man tied to it. The hideous scene was lit by flaming torches fixed to the walls and, in one corner, a brazier stood with branding irons heating in the red-hot coals. Another prisoner, a woman, was stripped to the waist and suspended by chains tied to her wrists. She was crying and then began to scream as the torturer donned a thick glove and walked towards the brazier. Selina looked away but his shadow loomed large on the wall as he approached the woman, glowing iron in hand. The vile smell of sweat and urine, invaded her senses and as she anticipated the stench of scorching flesh, she felt faint with horror.

‘Please. I can't stand this. Don't make me watch any more. It's cruel, vicious, inhuman.’ 

The sounds faded and when she opened her eyes she was back in her room but the devil was still there. He had changed. His eyes were flames and his immaculate clothes were steaming from singed holes as if he had been too close to the brazier. Acrid smoke spilled from his mouth when he spoke.

‘I’m sso dissappointed in you, Selina. You love horror movies, you’re totally ruthless, but you couldn’t sstomach a little harmless fun!’

‘Fun? Who was having fun in there? The only one enjoying it was you!’

 He held up his hands to silence her tirade. They were claws now with black talons. ‘Well perhaps hands-on-torture isn’t your cup of tea. Let’s try thiss.’

‘No more, please.......’ but the room was revolving around her again. The scene this time was a village in Uganda. The people were emaciated with starvation, dehydration and disease. They lay on the ground with flies unheeded on their gaunt faces, too exhausted to move into the shade. The air was dry, dusty and stank of the decaying corpses of people and animals. There was no sign of aid workers.

‘Great isn’t it?’ chuckled the devil, ‘Needless to say Idi Amin is one of my recruitss. What a great man, creating mayhem with masssacres, masss starvation. I thought you’d be impressed and I’ve lots more to show you. You could see Jack the Ripper at work and hear the women screaming; Hitler, visit a concentration camp and watch his victims gassp for air as they're gasssed. You name them they're all on my books.’

 Selina was so shocked and appalled she forgot her fear and turned on him with indignation and disgust. ‘How dare you equate me with murderers, torturers, Hitler, Idi Amin! All I wanted to do was ignore Christmas. It's hardly in the same league is it?’ They were back in her room. The devil seemed to have shrunk but it may have been more that he was bent and deformed. She noticed horns protruding through the thin, grey hair and his shoes were gone, revealing cloven hooves.

‘I'm beginning to think I was wrong about you, how dissappointing.’ As he hissed his spittle sizzled when it hit the floor.

‘Just one more try.’

‘No, I don't want........’ 

He interrupted her protest. ‘Just a little into the future, I think. I promise you’ll enjoy this one. After all, it'ss your creation.’

 This time she found herself looking at Gloria with her family. The room felt chill, no central heating, just a gas fire on the lowest setting. They were crammed around a small table eating their Christmas dinner. It was a very poor affair. Gloria had eked out a chicken by making it into a pie filled up with sausage meat and potato. The portions were meagre and the vegetables scant. The children were all thin and their clothes well washed and faded. 

The Christmas tree was hung with homemade decorations, toilet roll snowmen and tin foil stars.

There were presents under the tree, small and cheaply wrapped, just one each for the adults and two for the children. They would open them after the meal and Gloria found herself wanting to stay and watch. For, despite the deprivation, everyone was smiling. They were chatting, reading out the old jokes from their cheap crackers and laughing with delight. The room was full of love.

It was all too much for the devil who gasped for breath, unable to cope with the happiness. The room began to spin, Gloria protested she wanted to stay longer but it was too late. Once again, they were back in her bedroom.

‘Did you see how poor they were? That’s your doing, low wages, no Christmas bonus. I really thought you were a likely candidate; how wrong I was. You were envying Gloria her family and enjoying that suffocating feeling of love!’

 Selina looked at him, dazed with all the mixed experiences and emotions. He was shrivelled to the size of a dwarf and writhed on the floor naked, his pointed tail thrashing with irritation and discomfort. Then, in a billow of sulphurous smoke, he howled, wolf like, and disappeared.

Exhausted, Selina sank onto the bed and looked at the clock, 6am. It would be impossible to sleep now. She decided to have a shower and go to work early. 

There was great comfort in the hot water as if she was washing away more than the stench of sulphur. 

Selina looked into her wardrobe, went to take her usual black suit out and then her hand settled on a rich blue one and she chose a pale pink jumper to go under the jacket. As she dressed she caught herself humming. What was that tune? No! It was the rocking carol she'd learned at infant school.

Pictures came into her head of a little Selina looking in wide-eyed wonder at the Christmas tree and her parent's smiling faces. There were only a few of those memories because Christmas at the orphanage had been a soulless affair. It was a bleak place staffed by wretched people who had no time, or inclination to cuddle a sad child. The other children were tough and bullied her. When she opened her single present, it was invariably stolen. Selina learnt quickly to push for what she wanted; to be totally selfish because it was the only way to survive. 

Thinking of her childhood now made her realise why she hated Christmas. It was not the festival itself but being cheated of all the warmth and happiness she should have had. Gloria had all that, but Gloria was an orphan too, like her. Why had they never discussed their private lives? She knew why. It was because she had been the boss from hell. The devil had a point but she could change and she would begin this morning.

On her way to work, driving steadily, she stopped at the supermarket and emerged with a trolley laden with Christmas cards, decorations and party food.

When the staff arrived, the office had been transformed and everyone was given a personal Christmas card from Selina with an apology for her e-mail cancelling Christmas and a cheque to make up for it. 

Gloria had her own cheque and a note that told her to expect double the salary in future. She had scarcely taken in her boss' change of heart and her own good fortune when Peter rang.

‘What's made her change her mind Gloria?’

‘I don't know but the difference is amazing. She even asked after my family!’

‘Well whatever it is I approve. Erm......’

‘What?’ asked Gloria, ‘Were you going to say something else?’

‘Yes. Are you going to the party?’

‘Of course I am. I've organised it all. I'm really looking forward to it. Are you going?

‘Definitely. I might be a few minutes late so will you save me a seat, next to you?’



‘No problem. See you there, bye.’ Gloria put the phone down smiling with delight. That day everyone was smiling; Selina most of all.

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