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Chapter 7
Daniel stood in his bedroom mirror on Saturday morning, took the Santa suit out of the bag and slipped the jacket on. He was due to play Father Christmas in a department store in town in a couple of hours, but he thought he’d better check his outfit first. He’d tried it on when he’d bought it, but he’d been so eager to leave the shop that he hadn’t noticed anything apart from that it fitted OK – if he ignored the looseness around the stomach area, that is.
A cushion should sort that out. Perhaps he could borrow one from his mum? Or maybe a pillow would do the trick? He didn’t want to play Santa, but he was committed now so he didn’t intend to go into it half-heartedly. He wanted to make a good job of it and if shoving a pillow inside the voluminous jacket added to the illusion that he was Father Christmas, then that’s what he would do.
The pillow worked a treat, although he did have to cinch the belt tightly to ensure it didn’t slip, and when he popped the trousers and the hat on, he began to look the part. The fake beard came next, along with a surprisingly silky long white wig, and stick-on eyebrows. There was even a little pair of round glasses to complete the look, and when he stood in front of the mirror he was relatively pleased with the result.
At least no one would recognise him in this get-up. He barely recognised himself. The only recognisable part of him was his eyes and he didn’t think anyone he knew would get close enough to him to notice. Apart from his mum – she’d jokingly threatened to pay him a visit and sit on his knee, and she might even bring Mrs Williams from next door with her to cause him double the embarrassment.
Yeah, thanks, Mum…
Finally he couldn’t put it off any longer; he had to leave now, else he’d be late.
He quickly removed the Father Christmas suit, folded it neatly and put it back in the bag, then he grabbed the keys to his truck and took a deep breath. He could do this. He liked children and they seemed to like him, for the most part. Although he wasn’t a people person (which was one of the reasons he liked being his own boss and working alone) he could socialise if he needed to. And today, he needed to.
When Daniel pulled into the car park he still felt relatively calm. Even when he passed his favourite florist who had a wonderful display of Poinsettias and winter greenery in the window and was tempted to go in and have a look around, he hurried past. He knew that if he did pop in, it was a safe bet that he’d either buy a plant, or some bulbs, or a ceramic pot… or all three; which would defeat the object. If he spent his earnings today on things for the garden, he might well be forced to eat toast for dinner for the rest of the winter.
Daniel wrinkled his nose. He might be exaggerating somewhat right now, but nearer to Christmas when gardening work had dried up almost completely and he was living on what he’d managed to save earlier in the year, he wouldn’t be pleased. So, he clutched the bag containing his Santa suit more tightly, and instead scuttled off towards the department store.
He wasn’t due to start work until eleven a.m., so he headed directly to one of the tills, and told the young man standing behind the counter why he was there.
‘Cool,’ the guy said. ‘I used to love going to see Santa.’
Most kids did, Daniel mused as he followed the lad across the shop floor to find the manager. He used to enjoy it himself, but he’d never for one minute thought he’d be the person wearing the red suit.
After he was shown the staff room and where he could change, the chatty manager led him back out onto the shop floor to inspect the grotto.
‘Thanks so much for filling in for us,’ the woman gushed. ‘Having a Santa’s Grotto is one of the reasons the public come into the store, and we’d hate to disappoint anyone. Our regular Santa has a wedding to go to, one he couldn’t miss.’ She gave him an apologetic look. ‘Sorry it’s only this one time, but if we ever have need of another Santa, can we give you a call?’
‘No problem,’ he said, unable to envisage being a regular Santa; he wanted to get this job under his belt first. ‘Um, I’ve never been a Santa before,’ he confessed. ‘This is my first time.’
‘Aw, bless. You’ll be fine. You’ll love it!’
Daniel wasn’t so sure and his answering smile felt a bit strained.
‘Tanya will be your helper today. People buy their tickets to see Santa from one of the tills and take them to Tanya who then brings them through to you, so all you have to do is speak to the children and give them their gift. Here’s the grotto – what do you think?’
The grotto was situated at the far end of the store’s Christmas section. People had to walk through various shelves of assorted gifts such as scented candles, soaps and plush toys, and then past an impressive range of decorations, all of which were colour coordinated. There were also ceramic houses that lit up, a Santa’s train set on its own track, and an array of mechanical Father Christmases, polar bears, and reindeer, all of them displayed on dressers and tables, and arranged in a way that would entice people to buy. Heck, Daniel was sorely tempted to purchase a few items himself, and he didn’t even like Christmas that much. The whole display was so inviting it made him feel quite festive.
But thepièce de résistancewas a large, dark, walk-through tunnel which showcased the many lights the shop had for sale. On either side were Christmas trees, lots of them, in different sizes and colours, and all were brightly lit and twinkled in the dimness. Snowmen and other figures were dotted between, glowing and sparkling, and everything was coated in a fine dusting of fake snow. Christmas songs were playing and the scent of oranges, spice and berries wafted through the air.
The grotto was at the far end of this tunnel, and Daniel had to admire the store’s sales technique. Faced with all this Christmas stuff, especially whilst they were queuing, people had plenty of time to contemplate the Christmas decor they had at home and to consider upgrading. It was certainly a sight to behold.
Daniel walked up to the grotto and studied it. It was built out of plywood and painted to look like a gingerbread house. Children entered at the one side, then walked across to where he would be sitting at the other end, next to a fake fireplace with streamers and lights to give the impression of flames. Daniel noticed a tag saying how much the fireplace was and where it could be found – the department store wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to make a sale. His chair was a rather uncomfortable-looking wooden throne, with holly-shaped lights draped around it, and several large boxes filled with presents next to it. He guessed that all the decorations in the grotto, including the Christmas tree in the corner, were from the shop’s own stock.
He had to admit – despite the obvious sales pitch – that it was cheerful and festive, and would undoubtedly appeal to children, and probably the grown-ups accompanying them.
Feeling dreadfully apprehensive, he went back to the staff area to get changed and have a nervous wee, and by the time he arrived back at the grotto, several families were already milling about, waiting to see him.
Oh, God… He just hoped he didn’t let the side down.
Daniel felt as though he had spent the last eight hours felling a tree. With a pocketknife. In the dark.
He was absolutely shattered. His throat was sore, his mouth was dry, he was losing his voice from talking so much, and his face ached from all the smiling he’d felt obliged to do. Then there was also the sore backside he had from sitting so long, an aching back – for the same reason – and more tension in his neck than he’d ever had in his life. Add all this to the headache he’d been brewing due to the aforementioned tension and the lack of fresh air, and he was a physical wreck. Who could have known that sitting in a chair and talking to small children was so exhausting?
He was emotionally drained too, mostly from being so nice for so long, but also from trying to cajole awestruck or reluctant children to speak to him. The adults with them (he’d been advised never to call them parents, but to refer to them as the child’s ‘grown-up’) were usually keen for their children to get the most out of the experience, and many of them were also pretty desperate to hear what their charges wanted Santa to bring them, but some children just didn’t want to talk to him and he didn’t blame them. If he was a kid, he wouldn’t have wanted to talk to himself either.
Shattered, aching and hungry, Daniel was delighted and relieved when it was time to remove his Santa suit and go home.
