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to be there tae see it ,” and in that moment I knew I was going to get everything right . Her unsolicited love melted away all my fears , as it always did , and that was me back on the road to believing in myself again . My Nana was one of those very special people who , without anything having been said or done , could sense stress and worry in the air , and in that moment when all my bravado had deserted me she gave me the most loving hug and , reaching up , whispered gently in my ear “ I love you Peter … and I ´ m here for you son … always …” The next six minutes passed in a flash , I could see and hear all the merriment going on around me , but the only thought I had was returning to the kitchen . I kept a keen my eye on my Nana holding court as only she could , then when she turned and nodded the nod I ´ d been waiting for I immediately made my way to the kitchen . With a beautifully warming calm I picked up the shovel and the muslin bag , turned and walked out of the kitchen and , as if I ´ d become invisible , I silkily made my way down the hall , quietly opened the front door and stepped outside . Outside in the stairway , although I knew the wind that was blowing was a cold one , my adrenalin charged excitement at what was about to happen insulated me well for the task ahead . I carefully got everything out of the muslin bag and one by one placed them onto the shovel . The final job was to pour the Bells whiskey into the glass and just as I did so the first of the twelve bells struck . I felt a slight emotional jolt at this , but kept my mind on what I needed to do as being ready when the twelfth bell chimed was the exact moment I was to knock on my Nana ´ s door and make the First Foot .
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Eight ! … Nine ! … Ten ! … Eleven ! … Twelve ! I took the door knocker firmly in my hand and banged it loudly three times , and in a split second heard the sound of voices and footsteps scurrying towards the door … “ Who could it be ” I heard many times “ Oor first fit … Who can it be ?” then the door opened and everyone stopped in their tracks and shouted as if they ´ d been orchestrated “ It ´ s Peter … oh my god ! … It ´ s Peter !” … “ Happy New Year everybody !” I bellowed as I presented my shovel for all to see , a gesture that was followed by dozens and dozens of ´ Happy New Years ´ from everyone inside . The next ten minutes or so were all a bit of a blur as hugs and kisses were exchanged amongst the entire family , and when , beautifully exhausted , I made it to the end of the hall there was my Nana , open armed , smiling that smile that told me I had successfully made the transition from boy to man .
“ First Footing ” by Peter Taylor
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