Chapter 18 #2
I shake my head. We walk on until we get to a large wooden door and Nick introduces himself to yet another elf, who nods.
As the door opens, I think about all the Santas I’ve ever met, charity ones in the street, school-fair ones, even ones who work in Christmas trees.
This one just beats them all, hands down, no contest. He is actually so authentic, so real I let out a little gasp.
He sits in a library, surrounded by books, garlands and a little log fire with a magnificent Christmas tree next to it, golden and dazzling.
He doesn’t wear a hat, but that beard is genuine and luxurious, he’s got apple cheeks and a ruddy complexion.
He’s portly and has the sort of syrupy voice and smile that makes you want to share all your life secrets immediately.
‘Ho-ho-ho! Miss Redman and Mr Coles – how are we today?’ The voice is like warm melted chocolate.
‘Do come in.’ We’re ushered in to sit on a red and gold sofa.
I’m curious as to how he knows my name but also why he’s not questioned the lack of children in the room.
‘Look how lovely and grown up you look. When was the last time I saw both of you?’
I giggle, covering my mouth. The last time I visited Santa in this manner was in a garden centre and he smelt of pilchards. ‘It’s been a while, Santa. You look very well.’
‘I need to lay off the cookies,’ he says, patting his belly. ‘But thank you, dear girl.’
‘Would you like to hear something funny? You share a name with Mr Coles.’
‘Your name is Santa?’ he jokes.
‘No, I’m a fellow Nick.’
Santa reaches out a hand. ‘Then the privilege is mine, Nicholas.’ I grin, wondering if it’s bad form to get out my phone and take a selfie. ‘So, I will assume you have written your lists? What do you want for Christmas?’
I pause. I really do not know. Is it strange to want to ask Santa for UGG slippers and a reading pillow?
I feel this is Harrods Santa and he may be able to get more for me.
World Peace and a holiday to Hawaii? I shrug my shoulders.
‘I haven’t really thought about it, Santa.
I would like… everyone I love to be happy. ’
Nick laughs. Santa stops for a moment, his smile flattening before nodding and looking me in the eyes. ‘That is a wonderful thing, Miss Redman.’
‘Well, if she’s asking for that, can I grab a Ferrari if your elves can make them?’
Santa switches his gaze to Nick, cocking his head to one side.
‘My elves can make anything.’ He seems to write these requests in a large manuscript he has in front of him.
‘It was lovely to see you both. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas!’ The tone and volume of his voice are perfection.
I want to stay in here for longer, to chat to you all afternoon but I know I can’t be selfish, it’s Christmas after all.
The children need you. ‘Before you go…’ He reaches into a sack by his Christmas throne and takes out a Harrods teddy bear with a Santa hat and hands it to Nick.
I am instantly jealous and hope he has one in there for me.
Instead, he reaches down and takes out a little square box. ‘And I believe this is for you.’
A strong emotion runs through my body at this moment.
Panic. It grounds me to the spot like a massive spear.
No. No, no, no. We’ve literally reconnected in the past fortnight.
This is ridiculous. He isn’t going to…? And in front of Santa?
I take the box and unfurl the red satin ribbon, opening it cautiously to reveal a pair of earrings.
Just earrings. I don’t know why but my chest deflates, and I can suddenly breathe.
‘Well, what’s your answer?’ Santa asks excitedly, looking over at Nick, almost urging him to get down on one knee.
We both turn to look at him, me shaking my head slowly. It’s only then Nick gets it, looking strangely aghast. ‘Oh no, the little box. They’re earrings. I didn’t think that through, did I? I’m so sorry. I just… I thought it was cute with Santa and… we’ve…’
‘Two weeks,’ I explain to Santa.
‘TWO WEEKS!’ Santa exclaims. ‘Shit… sorry… I swore. Santa shouldn’t swear,’ he says, his old wrinkled face going very pink. ‘I shouldn’t have assumed…’
Nick looks at me, searching for my reaction. ‘I… you love Christmas.’
That I do, I think to myself, still trying to sift through my emotions here.
‘And he obviously likes you very much to go to all this trouble,’ Santa interjects. ‘Those are lovely earrings as well. What can I say? Us Nicks have impeccable taste,’ he says, winking.
‘I went with peridot because they’re your birthstone,’ Nick says.
‘They are my birthstone,’ I say, leaning over to hug Nick to thank him. He remembers these little things about me, and I can’t help but fall for that, to know that behind this big gesture, there’s also kindness there, someone who is invested in me. ‘Thank you. I love them, all of this. I love…’
But I don’t finish my sentence. That’s way too soon.
Instead, I wrap my arms around him and embrace him tightly.
There is something here, isn’t there? A spark that was lit almost a decade ago, a familiarity there that means I can rest in his arms and feel safe.
Maybe I need to give this a chance. I look up at Santa gazing at both of us, smiling.
What do I want for Christmas? Maybe it starts with this.