Five Gold Rings

Had a rather gorgeous Christmas Lunch with my fellow board members today, which was nice. Shame to have to go to work afterwards.

Wrapped some empty boxes to go under the tree tonight. Faking it. Why not? Better than looking at a big plastic plant pot.

George and Stella are now in Olympic Year.

Christmas 2012

Things change. People change. Stella had lost fifteen kilograms and volunteered for the Olympics. It was a far cry from all those years ago when she and George had stuffed Anti-Nazi league leaflets into envelopes in the late nineteen seventies. The hippy clothes had gone to Oxfam. She had a new job in a publishers, dressed sleek by day and Olympian by night.

As a volunteer she was a huge success and found herself rapidly promoted into escorting lesser VIPs for the two weeks of the games. Every day she would regale George with tales of minor celebs that she had met and feted.

George had been amused then bemused then confused. Finally he had been motivated to look at his own languorous lifestyle , taken redundancy from the Council's IT Department when it was offered, and set himself up as a professional photographer. To his own astonishment and delight he found he had a talent for boudoir photography, possibly because he approached it as a geek rather than a man, didn't overcharge, was good at it, and had Stella as creative adviser. Through a number of Stella's girlie contacts he ended up with a succession of commissions photographing semi naked professional women who wanted to present their egotistical husbands and partners with erotic images of themselves as presents, and were prepared to pay well for the product.

By the time they got to the end of the year they were both happy and revitalised; but the old George still persisted. He struggled to think of presents for his wife when Christmas came. Then an idea came to him.

On Christmas Eve Stella came home from a surprisingly busy last day in the office to find George running her a bath. The dinner table was laid in the most stunning fashion: an intimate affair for two people, white crackers, white candles, frosted plates, white feathers boas draped between the table decorations and the tinkling of festive modern jazz interpretations of traditional carols.

Stella climbed out of the bath and towelled herself. "Just need to get dressed and I'll be down for dinner" she yelled. But George appeared in the doorway as she finished drying.

"No need for clothes" her said and took her by the hand. The dining room was warm with the heating up full and a roaring log fire.

"Bit that Chimney doesn't work" she said. "It's blocked up".

"First of three early presents" said George. "I got a man in to unblock your flue". Stella giggled. "I'd rather - "

"Shhh" said George. "Behave".

He took of his clothes and kissed her. "Sit down whilst I serve naked dinner" he said.

The meal was an erotic feast. Three courses of eye contact and finger licking good food. After a sumptuous Spotted Dick, he came over to her with a small parcel. "Early present number two" he said.

She opened it. It was a pair of exquisite gold earrings in the shape of the Olympic Rings. "To celebrate your volunteering success. Put them on" he said. "You're under-dressed". As she fitted them she asked "what's present number three"? At which point he moved into the light so she could see properly, and grinned.

"Well" she said with a lascivious smile. "I'm surprised you could find wrapping big enough for that package".

It was the earliest night they'd ever had at Christmas.