Chapter 19
Later that week Jerry and Yang spent a morning pounding the High Street, doing mini questionnaires with the great British public, hoping to gather data that might support the plan to cancel Christmas in the borough. They had asked every question that they thought would give them insight into how the expenditure on Christmas was viewed by residents in the area and were now back at the office trying to work out what it all meant.
‘In summary, then,’ said Jerry as they scanned down a spreadsheet, ‘sixty-two per cent of our respondents said they thought the Christmas lights of Bermondsey High Street offered poor value for money and fifty-nine per cent thought that the money spent on Christmas decorations would be better spent elsewhere. Also, interestingly, ninety-two per cent thought that our Christmas decorations were the worst they’d seen south of the river. Sixty-two per cent went to the lights switch-on and seventy-eight per cent of those thought the choice of celebrity was poor and that we’d be better off without a celebrity.’
‘And the big indicators are no better,’ added Yang. ‘Seventy-five per cent said they thought the investment in Christmas in the area offered poor value for taxpayers’ money. And, probably most crucially, sixty-eight per cent ranked traffic-calming measures as well as public toilets and refuse collection as a higher priority for council spending than Christmas.’
‘So, in conclusion, I think it’s safe to say that Bermondsey Council does not deliver on Christmas to its residents and we therefore propose to cancel it next year,’ said Jerry.
Yang raised his eyebrows. ‘Looks that way,’ he agreed.
Jerry sighed. ‘I know we’re doing this to show we can make cuts in other places apart from head-count, but something about this doesn’t feel quite right.’
Yang shrugged. ‘It’s hard for me, when I don’t have an affinity for Christmas. Not sure what the right answer is. Does feel a bit weird, though. It sounds right on paper and logical to stop spending money on it, but it’s a head decision, not a heart decision. Not sure that’s the right way to treat Christmas.’
Jerry nodded. ‘I know I was saying how much I hated it the other day, but maybe if it wasn’t there, maybe if we stopped doing stuff for Christmas, then I’d miss it. I don’t know. All depends on your circumstances, I suppose. Christmas can either make or break you. I mean, take Stacey, for example. Now she has a man on the scene, she’s suddenly excited about Christmas. She’s so grateful to you for the babysitting, by the way. She’s asked me before, when she’s been desperate, but me and kids are like oil and water. There ain’t no mixing happening. I repel them and they repel me. Quite literally. You, however, I hear were a massive hit.’
Yang smiled. ‘Grace is great. Honestly. You just need to keep her busy.’
‘A regular Mary Poppins, Stacey said. And you made Stacey’s Christmas wish come true. You gave her a boyfriend. Would have been great if you’d got her in the Secret Santa Project.’
Yang looked around furtively. ‘I did, actually,’ he said.
‘What! Really? Is that why you offered to babysit. Now I get it. Now it makes sense.’
‘Er, no, actually. I wanted to help, that’s all. It seemed like she was really struggling, like she needed a night out, so I just offered. No big deal. I’ll have to try and think of something else for her Secret Santa.’
‘Oh, that’s an easy one,’ said Jerry. ‘Slam dunk. I know exactly what will make her Christmas.’
‘What?’ asked Yang.
‘The guy, Will, who she went out with the other night?’
‘I met him briefly.’
‘Well, he’s invited her to his work Christmas party in the Tower of London. For Stacey this is like Cinderella being invited to the ball. Can you imagine going where kings and queens partied centuries ago? Unbelievable. Anyway, she’s beside herself with excitement, but guess what she needs?’
‘A babysitter,’ said Yang, looking crestfallen.
‘Exactly,’ said Jerry. ‘It’s a gift of a Secret Santa present. Absolutely guaranteed to make her Christmas.’
‘I guess that’s what I should do then. Let her go to the ball with Will,’ said Yang slowly.
‘Absolutely,’ replied Jerry. ‘It’s going to blow her mind. Do it soon, though; she’s getting desperate. Wow, you’re so lucky. I still have absolutely no idea what to do about mine.’
‘Do you have any idea who’s got you?’ asked Yang.
‘No,’ said Jerry, shaking his head. ‘Can’t say I’ve noticed anyone making enquiries, put it like that. Mind you, it’s impossible for my Christmas to be made now. Literally all I wanted for Christmas was this guy I met in a coffee shop, who I thought was interested, but that’s gone. Done. Over. My Christmas is already ruined, so good luck to whoever has me, in that case; it’s an impossible task.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ said Yang.
Jerry paused. Yang looked so down in the mouth. ‘How about you?’ he asked Yang. ‘Could someone make your Christmas?’
Yang looked at him startled before he shook his head.
‘No,’ he said. ‘No one special.’
‘Come on,’ said Jerry. ‘Spill the beans. I know that look. There is someone, isn’t there?’
Yang stared back at him. ‘There is someone,’ he said eventually. ‘But I’m certain I’m the very last person she would want in her Christmas stocking.’
‘Oh, Yang,’ said Jerry. ‘Really? You’ve been struck with the most awful state to be in, like me. The state of unrequited love.’
‘I guess so,’ he replied.
‘How long?’ asked Jerry.
Yang shook his head. ‘Maybe a couple of years?’
‘Wow. That’s a long time. And you’re sure she won’t …’
‘No, it’s never going to happen. Never in a million years.’
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ said Jerry, putting his arm around Yang. ‘Not worth a shot, though, because it’s Christmas? I mean, that was what I did. Well, my friend Carol made me, to be honest, but she was right. At least we moved forward, even if it was in the wrong direction.’
‘What did you do?’ asked Yang.
‘Basically put myself in a position where it was blatantly obvious what I felt. I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for Carol but I’m glad I did. When you have strong feelings for someone then I guess it has to come out at some point. Otherwise you’re just stuck.’
‘I’m not sure I can do that,’ said Yang. ‘Could make life impossible even to try.’
‘Think about it,’ said Jerry. ‘You never know, it could work out brilliantly or at the very least you begin the process of attempting to move your affections to someone else. Not that I’m anywhere near that,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I really should take my own advice.’
Yang shook his head. ‘Not sure she even likes me. I’m absolutely certain she doesn’t see me in that way at all and I know I’m so not her type. So, you know, it really is hopeless.’
Poor Yang, thought Jerry. He really did look totally dejected.
‘What is her type, do you think?’ asked Jerry.
‘Suave, sophisticated, well dressed, great job, your basic nightmare.’
Jerry looked at the outfit Yang was wearing today. He had on a baseball shirt and jeans. His dress sense really was all over the shop. Today he was dressed like an eighteen-year-old who worked in McDonald’s. How Jerry would love to give him a makeover. Might just improve his chances with whoever this mystery woman was.
‘Hopefully whoever has your Secret Santa will come up with some ingenious plan to get you out of this funk,’ said Jerry, patting his shoulder.
‘Now that would be a Christmas miracle, for sure,’ said Yang. He sighed and looked back at the computer screen. ‘Right, shall we get these numbers into a PowerPoint for Diane?’
‘Let’s do it,’ replied Jerry.
Meanwhile Barney and Jolene were still out and about, trying to gather their evidence of the value of Christmas, much to Barney’s distress. He thought he should have been left to man the office. He was a sixty-three-year-old man, for goodness’ sake. What was he doing on the High Street in December, in the freezing rain, babysitting Jolene? Showing her where the borough started and finished. To be fair, she had kept her word and was doing all the questioning of the general public whilst he sheltered under shop awnings out of the weather. And she was doing it with a smile on her face, which was more than he could have managed, particularly given that the questions were stupid and pointless. She’d stood there and done at least twenty questionnaires whilst he’d stood and watched, insisting he kept dry. He had to respect that.
He dug his hands deep in his pockets as Jolene approached him, having just spoken to a woman with a pushchair. She had that stupid elf jumper on again. What was she wearing that for? They were only here because of her, anyway, he reminded himself. If the council stopped recruiting young people for just five minutes then they wouldn’t be needing to get rid of the oldies like him on such a regular basis. When Jolene offered to leave, Diane should have snapped her hand off, in Barney’s opinion. Last in, first out had always been a fine idea, as far as he was concerned. Still, this idea of cutting Christmas wasn’t a bad one. If it kept him in a job then he was all up for it.
As Jolene brushed the rain off her umbrella he suddenly had a thought as to where they should go next to get suitable opinions for Jolene’s survey.
‘Shall we head to the café over there?’ he said. ‘I bet there will be plenty of people in there that will talk to us about Christmas. And we can get out of this horrendous weather and drink a cup of tea.’
‘Great idea,’ said Jolene. ‘They’ll be relaxed in there too. Tell us what they really think.’
As they entered the café, Barney looked around. There was a chap in the corner he knew. Perfect.
‘Hello, Sid,’ said Barney. ‘Mind if we join you? This is Jolene. I’ve no idea why she’s dressed like that but I recommend you don’t ask.’
‘How do, love?’ replied Sid. ‘You take a seat.’
‘Thanks,’ said Jolene. ‘I’m dressed like this because it’s nearly Christmas.’
Barney held his hand up. ‘Sid’s not interested,’ he said.
‘Oh, OK, no problem,’ said Jolene, grinning.
‘Mind if we ask you a few questions?’ continued Barney, ignoring her. ‘We’re on council business today and your opinion is valuable to us.’ He said ‘valuable to us’ whilst holding his fingers up in quotation marks. Sid laughed.
‘Bleeding hell, it’s a long time since my opinion was valuable to anyone.’
‘Not what Bella says,’ said Barney.
‘It’s exactly what Bella says and you know it.’
‘How is she?’ asked Barney.
‘Still missing Linda,’ said Sid. ‘She says pottery class isn’t the same without her.’
Barney blinked, then coughed. ‘Well, I’m not missing those wonky vases she used to bring back,’ he said.
Sid laughed. ‘You can have some of Bella’s. We’ve got enough for a flower shop and enough wonky teacups for an entire café.’
‘I’ll pass,’ said Barney. ‘I couldn’t understand how she never seemed to progress. Always wonky.’
‘Oh, it’s really hard,’ said Jolene. ‘Brilliant fun, but really difficult. Me and my mates tried it at uni. Had such a laugh. I really must try and sign up for a class in London. I could do with finding some new friends.’ She gave a deep sigh. It was the first time Barney had ever seen her frown. It didn’t suit her.
‘Right,’ said Barney. ‘Why don’t I take the lead on this one?’ He got a piece of paper out of his pocket with the questions on that Jolene had given him.
‘Actually,’ said Jolene, ‘would you mind if I filmed you, Sid? Could be useful. Get your expressions.’
‘Film away,’ said Sid. ‘You gonna make me a star?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ grinned Jolene.
‘Right,’ said Barney, putting his glasses on. ‘First question. Do you think the Christmas lights on the High Street represent good value for taxpayers’ money on a scale of one to five, with one being poor and five being excellent value for money.’
‘Well,’ said Sid. ‘They’re a bit shit really, aren’t they?’
‘Would you like to expand?’ asked Barney.
‘Of course. My opinion of the lights on the High Street is that they’re a bit shit. Barely notice them, to be honest. I mean, they’re barely worth having. And as for the tree – it’s more of a branch really, isn’t it? Bit of an excuse for a tree. I remember when it used to be enormous, like twenty foot high, when I was little.’
‘Perhaps it just looked tall because you were little?’ asked Jolene.
‘No, no, love. It was enormous. And me ma would bring us all to look at it, she would. We’d come specially just to see the tree, then we’d walk down to the park. I bet you remember it, don’t you, Barney? You’d go down the park and there would be ice skating and lights in the trees and it was … it was … magical. Really it was.’
‘And you don’t think it’s magical now?’ asked Jolene. ‘I mean, it looks pretty good to me.’
‘I’m old,’ said Sid. ‘Nothing about the present is magical any more. Not seen through old eyes. Being old stinks. Growing old means the magic is wiped out of your life. I have to rely on my memories to bring the magic.’
‘So true,’ nodded Barney.
‘I tell you what we should be spending taxpayers’ money on,’ said Sid. ‘They need to sort the bloody public toilets out and mend the potholes in the road and have cheaper parking. That’s what they should be spending the money on. Not the pathetic excuse of the Christmas lights they put up now. Might as well not bother.’
Barney nodded in agreement.
‘But,’ said Jolene, peeping out from behind her phone, ‘will anyone remember the better toilets or the smooth road or the reduced congestion? I mean, you make Christmas when you were young sound amazing. Do you not want your grandchildren to have those sorts of magical memories? Feeling part of the community, standing gazing at the tree, watching the lights getting switched on, or ice skating in the park.’ She glanced at Barney. ‘Would you not want your grandchildren to have the chance to fall in love with someone at the ice rink?’
Barney suddenly felt a tear spring to his eye. He could picture Linda on the ice so vividly, even now. Probably the best moment of his life.
‘Don’t you want the future generations to have the chance to make those memories?’ continued Jolene. ‘Aren’t they the very things that make life worthwhile? We shouldn’t be losing that. You just said that was all you had: your memories.’
Barney and Sid stared back at her. Then looked at each other.
‘I suppose I can always go for a pee in McDonald’s,’ said Sid eventually. ‘And I am partial to a sausage and egg McMuffin. Can I get you a cup of tea, young lady?’ he asked Jolene.
‘That would be lovely,’ answered Jolene.
‘I’ll get them,’ said Barney, getting up. ‘She’s worked really hard this morning.’
Jolene looked up at Barney in surprise.
‘Then we need to tell you about the time we broke into the ice rink in the middle of the night and played ice hockey with a frozen turkey and some golf clubs. Remember that, Sid?’
Sid laughed. ‘Remember it well, my man. Remember it well.’