I will be one of the first to admit, I am a not-so-secret anglophile. I am the one who introduced my husband to the cozy British mysteries, and we watch so many of them that I often forget the North American way to pronounce “controversy” which is a, well, controversy in our house.
Lately, in a burst of nostalgia we took to watching some episodes of the older version of All Creatures Great and Small, whose theme song brings me back to my childhood every single time. Dad was a huge fan, and had a firm grasp of the TV remote, so Sundays we were tuned in and watched the adventures of a Yorkshire country vet.
James Herriot’s most grateful client was, of course, Trickie Woo and my Dad would always wax poetic about how much he himself would love to be the recipient of one of James’ Fortnum and Mason hampers.
So, of course, in today’s world, at the first mention of F&M in my modern viewing, I opened up my computer to find them online. While Dad sadly left us a few years ago, I could still marvel at the glittering display of beautifully elegant offerings.
Which led me to their quirky short story contest. F&M have a (what I am sure) is a lovely line of chocolate bars, all with off-beat names, and for the second year running they held a short story contest to help promote them. Big ticket prize was a fabulous hamper from them, stuffed to the rafters with delicacies. Of course I couldn’t turn down the chance. Rules were you had to build the story around the name of the chocolate bar and their prompt and include chocolate somewhere in the story.
Sadly, I did not win… Boo… But just for fun I thought I would post my submission here anyway. While I might not get the hamper this year, it won’t – ahem – hamper my efforts for next year. For my Dad’s obsession has now become my own and one of these days I will get a F&M hamper and think of him (and the fictional Trickie Woo) when I pull out each and every delicious offering.
My story about “Red Sky at Night, Ruby Delight” which had to be about the last remaining night shepherd who harvested rubies from the sky….
She was the last of her kind and she was tired. Although she derived a boundless joy from her starlit work, her heart was heavy, and her bones were sore.
It had been a long time since she last used the name her parents gave her. For as long as she could remember she had been Omaira, the Night Shepherd. She wasn’t even sure what her original name had been.
Hers was a vocation carried out in secret. While it is well known that once you cross over to the next world you cannot return, less known is that your love can be re-affirmed and made manifest as precious rubies left in the night sky to be delivered to those left behind. For over two hundred years Omaira has climbed her endless ladders and with her gossamer nets captured these tokens of love.
The veil between this world and the next is yet too strong, though, for most to realize from whence these jewels came, but nevertheless the rubies effected a rush of joy and love to their heirs so intoxicating that they carried the gems with them the rest of their lives, a talisman for their grieving hearts.
Every few centuries, a soul so pure would know what the ruby meant. This was a rare occurrence to be sure and one that was rewarded with extended life and the trust of the heavens – as Omaira had been all those years ago. While the bargain was that she was gifted a longer life, it was not an immortal one, and she knew her time as a Night Shepherd was drawing to a close.
Omaira reflected on all of this, as she sat down for a cup of tea and a delicate square of chocolate, before heading out on her mission yet again. She was exceedingly grateful for her time as Night Shepherd but she hoped that tonight, as she hoped for the past many nights, she would come upon a heart as open and wise as hers. As surely as she could taste the smooth chocolate melting slowly in her mouth, she knew that the next Omaira was waiting for her – and she sincerely hoped it would be tonight. She felt it was time, time for a new heart, a new day, and for her to finally rest.