Calling Mrs Christmas Read online

‘How do I look?’ Jim said.

  ‘Like a tosser,’ Rozzer volunteered. ‘How do we look?’

  ‘Like total tossers,’ Jim countered. They all burst into fits of giggles. ‘Come on, lads. Smiles on. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible.’

  They strode towards the social club. Well, Jim strode. Smudge and Rozzer trailed behind him, exuding reluctance.

  Jim had thought that Cassie would have been here by now. Perhaps she was waiting for them inside, but he couldn’t see her car in the car park. She’d told him that the presents – all sourced and wrapped by her – were in sacks stashed in the kitchen ready for them to distribute.

  Once they were inside, the hall looked considerably more Christmassy. It was clear that it had been decorated on a tight budget, but Cassie had done her best with limited money. The day after they’d asked her to book a Santa for them, they’d rung back and asked her to deck out the hall too. As with normal hall-decking, there were no boughs of holly, but there were dozens of helium balloons and streamers. She’d done the tree nicely, with big cardboard boxes beneath the bottom branches that the lads had wrapped to look like oversized presents. The party was in full swing and the pensioners were already waltzing round the floor to something that might have been sung by Des O’Connor or Val Doonican. They seemed to be having a great old time.

  Jim felt a warm glow of pride at how much Cassie had achieved in the last few weeks, even though it had made their life feel as if a whirlwind had gone through it. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d just sat together and watched telly without having to wrap presents or write Christmas cards. In truth, he’d be glad when it was all over and they could have the flat to themselves again. But as it had been so successful, there was no doubt that Cassie would do it all again next year. The only thing he wasn’t that keen on was the amount of time she was spending with that Carter Randall. He seemed to be really demanding and Cassie seemed only too happy to drop everything and put him at the top of her list. The guy was obviously used to getting his own way and it was certainly true that money talked. Oh, well. Christmas would soon be here and, hopefully, Carter Randall would be out of their lives.

  Jim introduced himself to the woman in charge, who showed them to the kitchen where Cassie had stowed the presents. He hoisted one of the sacks onto his back and Smudge and Rozzer flanked him, also carrying their own.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Jim said. ‘Ho-ho-ho!’

  ‘Ho-ho-ho,’ the lads echoed.

  Smudge and Rozzer grinned and fell into step behind him.

  There was a big cheer when Jim entered the hall and shouted out ‘Merry Christmas!’ They spent the next hour going from table to table, handing out gifts to the elderly people. Cassie had wrapped gloves and scarves, cosy, functional presents that seemed to please everyone.

  ‘Come over here, boys,’ the old dears shouted at the lads. ‘Sit on our laps!’

  The elves put up with the teasing stoically, though after half an hour of it, both were starting to look mildly traumatised – even after time served on Starling wing.

  Now that all the presents had been given out, they were serving tea and mince pies. All credit to the lads, they’d done a good job. They’d shadowed him perfectly and had been polite to all the party-goers. Jim couldn’t help but look at them with pride. A few weeks ago they’d been stuck in the unit with very little hope for the future, and now look at them. OK, so being one of Santa’s little elves wasn’t exactly a brilliant career move, but it had given them something to look forward to, a reason to get out of their bunks as well as put some money in their pockets for when they got out.

  A short while later, while Jim was taking a two-minute breather, Smudge and Rozzer sidled over to him.

  ‘The old pensioner ladies keep pinching our bums, Santa,’ Rozzer told him.

  Jim hid a smile in his beard. He could sympathise, as he’d had his cheeks pinched between gnarled fingers more than a dozen times too – his facial cheeks, though. No one had gone for his bottom yet. Perhaps he was too old for them and the ladies liked the younger blood. They’d certainly got more raucous as the afternoon wore on and he knew that they were definitely putting nips of something strong in their tea.

  ‘Man up, Rozzer,’ Jim said. ‘This is excellent life training.’ Checking his watch, he noticed that the party would be over soon and their part would be done. ‘We’ve not got much longer to go. Just be glad it’s not the men pinching your bum.’

  ‘True, dat,’ Rozzer muttered.

  Jim wondered where Cassie had got to. It wasn’t like her not to turn up to one of her own events. He knew she’d been up at that posh place again this morning with a lot to do, so perhaps things had overrun there. Jim slipped into the kitchen to ring her. Pulling off his beard, he searched for his mobile phone.

  The lads followed him in. ‘All the mince pies have gone, Santa,’ Rozzer said. ‘Is that us done?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘I think so. I’m just going to ring Cassie to check.’ He grinned at Rozzer. ‘I think it’s safe for you to call me Jim again now.’

  As he located his phone beneath his big red costume, the door opened and Vincent Benlow, his mate who ran Halfway House, came in.

  ‘Hiya, man,’ he said, gripping Jim’s hand. ‘What brings you here?’

  Jim indicated his suit. ‘Delivering presents for the boys and girls who’ve been good. What are you doing here?’

  ‘My mum’s over there.’ Vincent pointed through the serving hatch to a tiny lady with white hair.

  ‘Didn’t even recognise her, Vince,’ Jim said. ‘I’ll go and say hello properly.’

  ‘I expect she didn’t know you with the beard either. She’d like to see you, Jim. You were always one of her favourites.’

  ‘These are the lads I talked to you about,’ Jim said. ‘Andrew and Kieran.’

  Vincent shook their hands. ‘Nice to see you out and about, lads.’ They both looked self-conscious.

  ‘Vincent runs the Halfway House that I mentioned,’ Jim explained. ‘I’ve put your names down for places. Vince here would be looking after you.’

  ‘I’ve some news on that,’ Vincent said. ‘One of the lads has done a runner.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘It was on the cards. He was on a warning as he was back into the drugs. We don’t allow any of that.’ He threw the lads a stern glance. ‘If he hadn’t absconded, then he probably would have been out on his ear. So I’ve got one room in a two-bed flat. It’ll be available from next week.’

  ‘I was looking for someone to take them both together,’ Jim reminded him. ‘There’s no way that you can do a shuffle round? Squeeze in an extra body?’

  Vincent sucked in his breath and tutted. ‘Don’t think so. If it were me, I’d take the available room. That’s all I can offer at the moment, but you never know what might come up.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Jim said. ‘When do I need to let you know?’

  ‘As soon as you can. Come tomorrow, I might have to take someone else. By Monday, I’ll have a dozen people knocking my door down.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘I’ll go and see Mum,’ Vincent said. ‘Come over. Say hello.’

  ‘Will do,’ Jim said. ‘I just need to make a call.’

  He watched Vincent walk across the hall and then turned to the lads. ‘What do you think? Rozzer, you’re going to be out before Smudge. Is it best for one of you to take the place on offer and then we’ll try to get the other in as soon as possible?’

  ‘He didn’t sound very hopeful,’ Smudge said anxiously.

  ‘It’s a nice place,’ Jim said. ‘It would give you a good, solid base to start out again. Vincent would look after you.’

  Smudge looked alarmed. ‘I don’t want to be without Rozzer.’

  ‘It might only be for a short time. We could sort something out.’

  The lad was starting to look panicked now.

  ‘It’s just an idea, Smudge,’ Jim assured him. ‘Nothing to worry about. We can talk it thro
ugh.’

  ‘But that bloke said he needs to know now.’

  ‘It would be a shame to miss out on a place there,’ Jim conceded.

  ‘I’d like to go,’ Rozzer chipped in.

  Smudge blanched. ‘What about me?’

  ‘Jim said he’d sort something out. He’s never let us down, has he?’

  ‘What if he can’t get me in anywhere?’ Smudge’s voice was rising. ‘What if I come out and I’m back on the streets? What if you’re all settled in this flat and just forget about me?’

  ‘Don’t be a twat.’

  ‘Language. You’re still one of Santa’s little elves.’

  ‘Sorry, Jim.’

  ‘I think Rozzer should take the place,’ Jim advised. ‘If I’ve got one of you in there already, I’m hoping that getting the other in too might be easier.’

  Smudge’s eyes were filling with tears. ‘What if it’s not?’

  ‘Whatever happens,’ Jim said, ‘I won’t see you on the streets again.’ He took Smudge by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. ‘I promise you that.’ Then he turned to Rozzer. ‘Do you want to see if I can organise for you to go and view the flat?’

  ‘If you think it’s a good place to be, then I’m happy with that.’

  Smudge’s face twisted with anguish, but Jim couldn’t worry about that now. If he could get one of them sorted, that was a good start. ‘Shall we grab hold of Vincent now and tell him that on your release you’ll move in?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Rozzer nodded earnestly.

  ‘Then let’s do it.’

  Rozzer caught hold of his arm. In his eyes there was relief, gratitude and perhaps even a glimmer of affection. ‘Thanks, Jim. You’re a top bloke.’

  ‘Thank me when you’re both in there and settled,’ Jim said. Then he hot-footed it after Vincent before he missed him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ‘I’m really sorry that I didn’t make it to the party,’ I say.

  By the time I get to Boxley Social Club, Jim is already in the car park packing up and he’s out of his Santa outfit. Which is a shame as I rather like him in it.

  ‘Did it go off all right?’

  ‘Fine,’ Jim answers. ‘The lads made great elves.’ He flicks a thumb to where they’re sitting in the back of his car. ‘They didn’t tell one single person to “go fuck themselves”.’

  ‘Excellent. Always a bonus.’ We grin at each other.

  ‘The pensioners loved their presents and the hall looked great.’

  ‘Thanks, Jim,’ I say. I really have no idea what I’d do without him.

  ‘So what kept you?’

  ‘This contract with Carter Randall is much bigger than I ever imagined, Jim,’ I admit. Though I think it wise not to mention the bit about the lingering over hot chocolate and home-made biscuits. ‘You should have seen the size of the trees that arrived. They’re enormous. Then I had to stay and co-ordinate with the lighting company. It’s very exciting but quite daunting.’

  ‘It’s going well, though?’

  ‘Fabulous. Carter’s really pleased. He just keeps asking me to do more and more.’ I’m not quite sure when I’m going to raise the subject of my going to Lapland with Carter and the family for four days. It’s just four days, I tell myself, surely I won’t be missed for that lickle-ickle, teeny-tiny amount of time. Surely?

  ‘Carter?’ Jim laughs. ‘On first-name terms now, eh?’

  ‘He’s nice,’ I say lamely. ‘I met his kids today. They’re nice too.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it tonight,’ Jim says. ‘I have to get the lads back before four. Why don’t we get a takeaway and a bottle of plonk?’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  I can’t face cooking tonight, although it’s a habit I don’t want to slip into, otherwise all my profits will go to the Hong Kong Chinese Takeaway and the Australian vineyards instead of being saved for a wedding and a baby. I don’t want to lose sight of that goal.

  ‘I’ll just say thanks to the boys. Can you take them to McDonald’s as a treat on the way back?’

  ‘Not really got enough time,’ Jim says. ‘Besides, they’ve got a choice of their prison gear or red-and-green elf costumes. Don’t think they’d want to be seen out in either.’

  ‘Oh.’ Now that we seem to be absorbing them into our lives and my business, it is, occasionally, easy to forget they they’re not just ordinary boys. ‘I was just trying to be nice.’

  ‘I’m sure they’d appreciate it. Unfortunately, it’s not practical.’

  ‘It’s not long now before they get out, is it?’

  ‘Rozzer’s out soon. If we’re lucky they might let him go before his due date. I’ve managed to fix him up with a place at Vincent’s Halfway House.’

  ‘Is that supposed to be down to you?’

  ‘No. There should be loads of help for the lads in place, but it’s not much in evidence at the moment. Cutbacks. Everyone left has massive caseloads. They do their best, but it’s not always enough. I’m just doing what I can to lend a hand.’

  ‘That is so you.’ I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

  ‘Well,’ he says, shyly, ‘you do what you can, don’t you?’

  I go over and tap on the window. The boys lower it. ‘Thanks so much. Jim says you’ve worked really hard today.’

  They both mumble that it’s OK, or some such.

  ‘Good news about Andrew’s flat too.’

  He beams back at me, but I see Kieran’s face fall. Jim has told me that they want to stay together after release, that they’ve become family to each other while they’ve been inside.

  ‘It won’t be long before you’re out too,’ I reassure him. But he says nothing. ‘Hopefully, I’ll have some more stuff for you to do this week – if you’re up for it.’

  More nodding and mumbling in a teenage style. I’m growing fond of these boys already. They’re damaged and vulnerable, but underneath their tough exterior and their couldn’t-care-less attitude, I think that they’re just crying out to be something better. I can tell. And so can Jim. That’s why he’s taking so much time with them. That’s why I’m trusting them with my business.

  ‘Better let you go,’ I say. ‘Catch you in the week.’

  ‘Are you going straight back to the flat?’ Jim asks.

  ‘Er…’ I’m planning to go into Snow + Rock as instructed and kit myself out with Arctic-strength ski gear. I’ve looked at the weather forecast in Lapland and it’s truly freezing up there. The temperature is falling rapidly and I feel that things may get a little frosty round here too. But I can’t explain all that to Jim while we’re standing in the car park and he’s in a rush to get the boys back. Instead, I settle on, ‘I’ve just got a few errands to run first. You might be home before me.’

  ‘OK.’ He kisses me quickly, embarrassed by our surroundings and our audience. ‘Love you.’

  ‘Love you too.’ I watch him jump into the car and drive away. I wave and the boys wave back.

  When they’ve gone, I head to the Snow Centre and park up. Carter has told me what to buy for myself, so I’m armed with an extensive shopping list. I can’t believe that I’ll need all this clothing for four days but Carter seems to think that I will. As I’m going to be in charge of co-ordinating the itinerary while we’re out there, I don’t want to be shivering in the corner.

  This place is amazing. I’ve never really had cause to come up here before as skiing really isn’t my thing and, if the mercury falls too much, then I just don’t go out. The Snow + Rock shop is filled with fabulous multicoloured offerings and I’m happy to spend time browsing and trying on gear. A lovely assistant, Ben, helps me with my purchases and soon I’m toddling out with carrier bags overflowing with good stuff.

  Back at the flat, Jim is already home when I push through the front door. He’s taking the opportunity to write some Christmas cards for me in front of the football on telly.

  ‘Hey,’ he says when he sees me. Then his expression darkens when his eyes light on all the
carrier bags. ‘Wow. Please tell me all that is for someone else.’

  I sigh. Moment of truth. ‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s for me, but someone else is paying for it all.’

  He waits patiently until I dump the bags on the floor and peel off my coat.

  There’s no easy way of putting this, so I might as well just spit it out. Jim is the most understanding and placid person on the planet, but I can see that even he might have an issue with me going away on holiday with a millionaire and leaving him on his jack at home. Which makes me wonder why I’ve agreed. My mouth goes dry and I know that I’m giving out guilty signals.