“Big night tonight, you
know”
“I know”
Mrs Christmas did know.
She’d heard the same thing every year for more than a century, hoping that the
sponsorship laid on by Coke might have calmed him down a bit but realising that
it just made him a little more sure of himself.
As Mrs C finished the
dishes she looked in on Santa with his feet up and a mince pie in his hand. He
had crumbs down his suit and his hat was lying on the floor despite her
constant reminders for him to put it at the bottom of the stairs. The sink
gurgled as the water drained away and Mrs C sighed when she realised her
husband had yet another plate. Her dishes weren’t yet complete.
“Little Oliver in
Austria is on thin ice. Apparently he’ll make snowmen for the other children of
the square and then smash them up again. If that isn’t treading the line
between naughty and nice, I don’t know what is!”
Little Oliver came up
every year. There were good children who did bad things and bad children who
did good things, but Oliver was a conflict unto himself in the list. Mrs C was
sick of hearing about him. She shrugged off his antics once more and drew the
hoover from the cupboard.
“Must you do that now?
I’m watching Celebrity Jungle Extravaganza. Might enter for it next year.”
It seemed the merry-go-round
of phrases wasn’t yet complete. He would be leaving in an hour and that gave
Mrs C twenty four hours of peace before
the whole charade started for another year. She drew a breath and put the
hoover back, contemplating replacing the broken skirting but realising the
hammering would interrupt him further.
“Then, I have so much
to do that I doubt I could fit in weeks in the jungle too. I have to go round
the world you know!”
She knew. Oh, how she
knew.
Finally the time had
come. Mrs C kissed Santa on his chubby red cheek and bid him farewell, hoping
for a safe return as the love had never waned but also crossing her fingers
that he’d get himself a coffee this year and give her an extra fifteen minutes.
It was the one time of the year that she didn’t have to clean up his socks or
make him a sandwich and, as with every year, she was going to make the most of
it. She waved the sleigh off and closed the door, flicking the kettle on and
smiling to herself.
He was a busy man,
there was no doubt about that. However, it was all in a night’s work for him.
