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Not driving home for Christmas	By : fundamellie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pet Shop Boys Views: 791 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Not driving home for Christmas
- 1
„Sorry, Sir, but all the flights are cancelled for today,” the young woman behind the British Airways counter told him. She barely looked up as she continued to check the display in front of her, so she missed the frown that appeared on Neil’s forehead and his scarcely suppressed sigh.
“The latest information is that most of the airports within a travel distance of three hours by train or car report similar conditions. Some have been closed down hours ago, others are most likely to follow suit. Oh well, Amsterdam reports all flights cancelled as well.
I suggest you return to the hotel and wait for the update about the ferry service.”
Neil only nodded, too tired and too frustrated to argue this matter any further.
What was the use in being a pain in the neck now anyway? It was not the red-heads fault that some ancient weather God had decided to cover half of Europe in a thick blanket of snow just when he was going back home. It wasn’t her fault that his flight got cancelled yesterday evening and he had had to spend the night in a depressingly functional airport hotel in Brussels and had been waiting for a flight to London to be announced again all morning. It was nobody’s fault, it was fate. Not that it made the whole situation any better.
He began collecting his belongings which during his lengthy discussion with the Irish woman had been spread out on the counter. His mobile, which had been receiving messages non-stop for the last ten minutes; his wallet and flight ticket and finally his passport.
“Thanks for your help,” he said absent-mindedly.
The woman in her BA uniform looked up and smiled at him just when he was about to turn.
“Any time, Sir and have a Merry Christmas!”
Neil stopped in mid-motion and gave her a puzzled look. Then he nodded and smiled back.
“Thanks. And a Merry Christmas to you, too!”
He shook his head as he walked away, he had nearly forgotten about Christmas!
‘Well,’ he mused ‘it’s not so difficult to forget about Christmas when you’re stuck far away from home at an airport and your boyfriend is waiting at home.’
Feeling weary and slightly depressed, he bought himself a cup of cappuccino at one of the tacky American coffee chains. He sat down at the back of the café and dialled his boyfriend’s number on his mobile. While he was listening to the beeping at the other end, he stirred his coffee without much enthusiasm. After a while he heard the boy’s voice answering: “Hello, it’s Stefan!”
Neil shifted the phone slightly, hoping to improve the connection a little bit. He got so much static and sloshing it was hard to make out the words at times.
“Hi, Stefan, it’s me.” He answered and could almost see the boy’s face light up with hope. “I’ve got bad news,” he continued, feeling totally miserable. “All the flights are cancelled here. They don’t know when they will reopen the airport.”
“Oh,” Stefan muttered in a low voice.
Neil closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose in a gesture of resignation.
“I’m so sorry, but there really is no way to get home right now. All the near-by airports are closed down as well; the ferries won’t cross the Channel until noon tomorrow. There is just no way. Stefan? Stefan? Can you still hear me?” Neil shifted the phone again, hoping he had not lost the connection. It had been difficult to reach anybody via mobile for most of the day. All of the snow storms across Europe made the networks crash all the time.
“What about…? Neil? What…?” Stefan’s voice was lost in the white noise and then the connection was cut off once more. Neil sighed and dialled again but without success.
No connection possible. Everything stayed silent.
‘As if that has been frozen, too,’ Neil thought grumpily.
He left his now cold cappuccino on the tray and left the airport. He was lucky to get a taxi. It seemed that nobody dared to go by car by themselves so the taxies were in constant demand. The normally busy taxi stand in front of the main entrance was completely deserted as Neil’s driver pulled out into the white city around them. The drive itself was painfully slow and at times Neil had the impression that they were sliding instead of driving. It didn’t really brighten his mood.
Back home in his Chelsea flat in London Stefan starred at the phone. The line had gone flat and as it did not ring again throughout the minutes that followed. He guessed that Neil had lost the connection again.
Damn the snow! Damn the business that had been so important that Neil had to go to Brussels one day before Christmas! Damn Chris as well, who had not gone with Neil and was now in Blackpool with his family! Damn, damn, damn!
Stefan replaced the receiver and looked up sulkily at his friend Kevin, who had just entered the room. Kevin had popped in an hour ago, just to deliver his presents, how he had put it but Stefan was convinced he was really just checking on him.
‘Checking to see if the poor little German is doing okay, now that his boyfriend is not coming home for Christmas!’ Stefan thought with some bitterness.
“Is he coming then?” Kevin asked and slumped down in one of the huge leather armchairs in front of the fireplace.
“No,” Stefan replied shortly and sighed heavily. “All flights cancelled. It’s the same everywhere nearby and the ferries don’t go either. But I don’t understand why he does not take the train. There’s a direct connection from Brussels to London. You go through the Euro Tunnel. Surely they can’t have closed that down because of the snow?” he mused, with more sarcasm in his voice than he had intended.
“You don’t really ask why, do you?” Kevin regarded him with a funny look. That funny look that he seemed to especially reserve for Stefan; that look that seemed to say ‘Don’t be so stupid!’
“Sure I do.” Stefan replied and shrugged his shoulders. “And why not? It’s bloody Christmas Eve and he’s stuck in Brussels!”
“You really don’t know?” Kevin asked again.
“What?” Stefan snapped, irritated by Kevin’s questions.
“That he’s claustrophobic and would probably get a heart attack in the Tunnel!”
“You’re joking?” Stefan asked.
“No, I’m not. Honestly!” Kevin insisted. “He can’t even stand being in a lift for about two minutes. Or did you think he’s always walking up the stairs to keep fit?”
Stefan chose not to reply. In fact he had thought that Neil indeed never used the lift because he did not mind the exercise. Claustrophobic. So that was the reason Neil had not thought about using the train to come home. Stefan thought long and hard for a moment, ignoring Kevin’s babbling. What was the saying again? If the mountain does not come to the prophet, the prophet has to go to the mountain? Well, at least in German that saying worked.

Back in his hotel room, Neil got out of his coat and shoes and went straight to the phone. Sitting down on the bed behind him, he dialled his own phone number once, then twice. This time he got a connection but nobody answered the phone. He tried again. Still nobody picked up the receiver. He tried Stefan’s mobile. It was switched off. He could not even leave a message on the voice mail. Unnerved Neil tossed the receiver aside and let himself fall back on the bed. He glared at the ceiling. He felt like kicking something.
It was really too stupid. Here he was in some ghastly hotel room in Brussels, snowed in and unable to get back to London. And this on the first Christmas together with Stefan!
Okay, he had known the boy last Christmas but they had not even been very close friends back then and had spent the holidays apart. Stefan alone in his student’s hostel and Neil up North with his family.
After a while he got up again and picked up the receiver. He decided to go for a little walk. Even if it was freezing outside, everything was better than sitting here feeling caged and lonely. He cursed himself for not having brought a scarf and gloves with him.
‘No need for it’, he had reasoned, ‘when all you do is going from the airport to the hotel to the meeting and back again.’
He stubbornly refused to buy those items now; somehow he did not want to make an effort to brighten his involuntary stay. He walked around the deserted outskirts of the city for nearly two hours; the collar of his coat turned up against the cutting wind, his hands tugged deeply into the pockets. There was nothing much to be seen in this part of town. It looked like any other suburbia. Semi-detached houses and little front gardens. Now all of that was covered with a thick blanket of snow. For most of the time the white blanket stretched out in front of him yet undisturbed. He thought how lonely his footsteps must look but when he glanced back, the ones in the distance were already filled up once more. No proof he had even been here. Quite fitting for a pointless stay. Darkness fell early and soon the unavoidable Christmas lights sprang to life everywhere. He found it quite fascinating to what lengths some people went to deck their halls. One could see Santa Clauses climbing walls and balconies; flashing lights in all colours imaginable as well as countless angles, reindeers and stars. Some things were so kitschy they hurt. When he returned to the hotel he was frozen to the bone. He could hardly feel his toes and fingers and the tips of his ears were stinging quite badly from the cold.
He took a hot shower and then got dressed again. There really wasn’t much else to do and he could not bear to sit around in this anonymous hotel room in his pyjamas at 5 o’clock p.m.
‘Brilliant,’ he thought grimly, ‘now would have been the time to start preparing the dinner.’
He ordered dinner for himself instead – just some pasta and a small salad, complete with a bottle of red wine. Nothing too festive. He could not stand the thought of it right now. Like people wishing him a Merry Christmas. That was why he had chosen to eat in his room instead of going downstairs to the restaurant which no doubt had been decorated according to the occasion. He switched on the TV, but the first channel showed a report about the unexpected outbreak of winter and the chaos which had been created by the snow and ice. He knew all about this so he switched it off again. He tried to reach Stefan yet again but still nobody picked up the phone in his London flat. And the boy’s mobile was still switched of as well. When his dinner arrived, he grudgingly returned the festive greetings and then ate only half-heartedly. He thought of Stefan and what surprises he had planned for the boy’s first English Christmas. Stockings hanging from the mantelpiece of his fireplace. A decoration of holly and mistletoe. A traditional Christmas tree with colourful lights. Presents on the morning of the 25th. Hot chocolate and roast apples, as well as plates of nuts and oranges. Too bad really.
He sighed again and leaned back in his chair. He just could not make his mind up about doing anything, so he simply sat there, starring out of the window, feeling sorry for himself and the boy. After a while he switched on the TV again. This time they showed “Isn’t life wonderful?”, that old black and white Christmas movie starring James Steward but he did not understand any French and besides it was far to Christmassy again so he aimlessly switched channels until he found BBC World. There at least it was all business and weather reports and very little mention of Christmas so he left it on and watched; only occasionally sipping his wine. The hours dragged by; he even phoned the airline hotline twice but only to be told that still all the flights were cancelled. The boy also did not pick up the phone. Neil hoped he had agreed to spend the evening with one of his friends, Kevin perhaps. Any company would be better than none at all. Especially on Christmas Eve!
Shortly before 8 o’clock there was know on his door. Neil frowned. Who could this be? Surely only the room service, asking if he needed some towels or crushed ice or more wine and then to wish him a bloody Merry Christmas once again! He got up and went over to door to open it, trying to force a smile into his face. The knock came again, this time a little bit more insistent. He hurried to open the door and then stood there totally dumbfounded for a very long moment. Stefan stood right in front of him, a heavy backpack and a huge travelling bag placed to both sides of his feet. The boy wore a suit underneath his heavy coat and a scarf as well as a Santa Claus hat with blinking lights all around the fringe. His cheeks were glowing red from the cold and his grin was priceless. He held up a branch of mistletoe above his head with one gloved hand and after a moment of silence asked cheekily:
“Are you finally going to kiss me or are you planning on growing roots?”
“Sorry?” Neil blinked as if waking up from a strange dream. But the boy was still standing in front of him, still holding up the mistletoe.
“Never mind,” Stefan shook his head as if to say: “It’s one of those German phrases which don’t translate.”
Neil did not ask again and instead kissed the boy. He pulled him very close and hugged him tight, placing he arms around the boy’s waist. His lips were still cold, but the inside of his mouth was warm and soft and tasted of oranges and figs. This first Christmassy thing he liked today, Neil decided.

The kiss ended leaving Neil a little breathless. He beamed now. The boy was here! They could celebrate Christmas together after all! He did not care so much that all of his little surprise were not going to work out this Christmas now that they were at least together.
“Come in; let me help you with those bags.” He ushered the boy into his room and closed the door. He dropped the bag and hugged Stefan again.
“It’s so nice that you came,” he whispered into the boy’s ear. “I’m so glad!”
Stefan grinned. “Well, it would not have been Christmas without you.” He decided not to mention the bit about the prophet and the mountain which had inspired him. He really did not want to have one of those endless linguistic discussions.
Neil took Stefan’s coat, gloves and scarf and hung them over a chair to dry. He poured the boy a glass of wine and sat down on the bed, watching Stefan unpack his bag. His eyes widened in surprise. Stefan had taken all of the presents with him. The once he had gotten for the boy as well as the ones for him. At least there were some wrapped up boxes in various sizes he had not seen before. Then there was a huge box of Christmas crackers.
“You have to wear your paper crown all evening, no matter what colour you get,” the boy ordered him with a mischievous grin. His Santa hat wobbled in agreement.
Neil laughed. “Looks like I will have plenty of crowns to choose from, so that should not be a problem. How did you get here? Did you ice-skate over the Channel?”
“No, I took the Euro Star,” Stefan answered evenly.
“I see,” Neil replied and bowed his head slightly.
“Kevin told me you are claustrophobic,” Stefan went on. “So I know it was not an option for you. But I did not mind the drive as much as I minded a lonely evening without you, so here I am!”
Neil smiled, feeling almost tearful but thankfully enough that mood was quickly shattered when Stefan produced a very small Christmas tree from his backpack. It was about 22 inches high, potted and already decorated with small lights and tons of tinsel.
“Jesus!” Neil gasped and Stefan almost rolled on the floor with laughter because of his horrified face expression.
When he had recovered, he arranged everything nicely and sipped his wine as well.
“Maybe we should toast now,” he boy suggested.
They both got up and held out their wine glasses.
“To our first Christmas together,” Stefan began.
“To the many that will follow,” Neil continued. “Cheers!”
They clicked glasses and then simultaneously said:
“Merry Christmas to you!”
They both laughed and Neil thought that this was the first time today that he absolutely meant this phrase.
- 1
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Not driving home for Christmas