~~The Paddington’s were a proud English family, whose roots went back well into the middle ages. The Paddington’s were very firm lovers of tradition. Especially during Christmas. The large tree was brought in to their lavish sitting room decorated and sparkling exactly twelve days before Christmas. Tinsel and mistletoe were draped elegantly along banisters and hung delicately from the cream ceiling.
And despite the certain prediction of a grey Christmas, white snow fell from the sky on Christmas Eve morning, covering the ground in a powdery white blanket for miles. The large estate owned by the Paddington’s was adorned with beautiful Christmas lights, which Mr Paddington assured everyone, could be seen for space.
As five o’clock rolled around on Christmas day, and all the gifts had been opened, Mr Paddington lit the fire place. With a single swipe of a match he set the oak ablaze in a warm orange glow. He sent out Mr Franz to collect on of the turkeys which they had brought from the market a few weeks back. They had since fattened them up respectively. The dining table was set and when the silver bell was wrung, all the members of the Paddington family filed in.
Mr Paddington, a tall, pale man with greying hair seated himself immediately at the head of the table before his wife, a slightly rounded woman with still-white hair followed suit at the other end. Their three children Evelyn Paddington, heiress, twenty years old and had never worked a day in her life, found her preferred spot closest to her dear mother throwing her long blonde hair over one shoulder and glaring down at her sliver place set with icy blue eyes, a true English rose. Johnathan, an aspiring Lawyer obvious to his family’s position flumped down haphazardly at the table next his sister, knocking her playfully and earning a glare worse than the place set, he picked up a piece of lettuce and started chewing on it. Earning a disgusted noise form his mother who had otherwise been silent. Lilly, a young girl of ten, with wildly curly blonde hair and sparkly blues eye ran over to her father and crawled up onto his lap. Who promptly pushed her off and told her to go and sit at the table like a good girl. Unfazed by her father’s reaction Lilly simply tried again with Johnathan who happily began offering her some of his lettuce.
As head of the family it was Mr Paddington’s job to carve the turkey. However when he lift the lid form the silver platter, a very much alive Turkey sat up to greet him.
Mr Paddington stared down at the turkey in shock. The turkey stared back in dull curiosity. It broke his gaze a glanced lazily around the room, apparently seeing something of interest the Turkey rose up and scampered towards the edge of the table. Mr Paddington’s bewildered stare following him the whole way. The turkey spread its wings and flew noisily to the end of the room and began pecking and scraping at a low hanging tinsel. Lilly began giggling at the sight as Mr Paddington slowly regained his senses.
“Why, you, you stupid chicken!” Mr Paddington screeched.
“I believe it’s a Turkey dear.” Said Mrs Paddington dryly. Mr Paddington’s red face spun on her.
“I don’t care what it is! I want it dead on that plate!” cried Mr Paddington pointing a shaking finger toward the plate the Turkey had appeared from. Johnathan had risen from his seat and been trying to sneak up on the Turkey but each time he got close enough it strutted casually away.
Lilly came around in front of the Turkey and held out her arms.
“Come here Turkey! Come to Lilly! Turkey! Turkey!” but at the sound of Lilly high pitched voice the Turkey walked right up to her and gave her and good peck on the nose.
“Oww!” squealed Lilly, erupting into tears. Johnathan abandoned his attempts at capturing the arrogant Turkey and went over gathering lily up in his arms. Mr Paddington began calling out as the Turkey continued roaming around the room, eyeing everyone haughtily.
“Mr Franz! Mr Franz! Would you come here now!?” Mr Paddington even went as far as too stamp his foot. “Now I say!” Mrs Paddington giggled.
Neither of the women seemed to have moved. Mrs Paddington continued watched the Turkey reproachfully but kept sneaking amused looks at her fuming husband. Evelyn it seemed was happy to wait for the rest of them to deal with the situation and was frowning down at her painted fingernails. For some reason the turkey seemed to notice her disinterest and hobbled over. Quickly scuttling under the table, Evelyn very obviously ignoring it. Suddenly Evelyn let out a loud screech as she few backward and out of the chair. The turkey following, its beak latched onto her foot.
Mr Franz, an older gentleman, with thinning grey hair hurried into the room, throwing open the large oak doors as he did.
“Sir! Sir! Wha’ is et?!” he asked huffing and puffing, desperately trying to gulp down some air.
“That’s it!” cried Mr Paddington, seeming to go even redder in the face. His cheeks managing to glow the same bright shade as the Christmas bubals. “You forgot to cook it you idiot!”
“Aye?” said Mr Franz incredulously, “Wha’ you wan’ me ter cook et for?” His thick Scottish accent making him seem even more confused.
At this Mr Paddington dropped his arm and opened his mouth, but let out nothing but a small squeak. “To – to eat.”
“Now why would ya wan’ ter be doing that? Ya’d get all de feathers stuck in ya throat. I dunno sir, but yer really tossn’n me up today.”
As the two men were talking, the Turkey had found something a little more interesting, an open door. Letting go of Evelyn’s toe. He hurried towards freedom. Everyone else seemed too concerned with their own problems to notice the turkey. Except of course, Mrs Paddington, who was despite many beliefs, aware of everything.
Another turkey was found, cooked properly and served for Christmas dinner, but nobody ever did find that turkey. In fact, Mr Paddington still believes in wonders the house, looking for him. That’s ridiculous of course what would the Turkey want with him, no, it seems more likely that he be after Evelyn’s little toe. Wouldn’t it?