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She sniffed. “We’ve moved so many times this year—to different countries, even. I don’t think Santa will know where I am.”
“Hey,” Jesse said, dropping down to sit cross-legged next to her, ignoring the curious and disapproving looks from the nearest guests. “You don’t need to worry about that. Santa knows where every kid is, every year…all of them.”
“Really?” She looked at him with uncertainty.
“Even if they moved to the moon.” He smiled. “And here…” He reached past her, plucked the car decoration off the tree and handed it to her. “These are toys. They are meant to be played with.”
She smiled, the tears in her eyes glinting in the lights from the tree. She clutched the car tight. But then her face fell. “All I really want for Christmas is to see Daddy again.”
Jesse’s chest clenched. “I know. I’m sorry, honey. Your aunt said that can’t happen.”
She stared at the car, spinning a wheel with one finger. Then she looked up, her face bright again. “Hey, do you want to see my drawings?”
Jesse looked around to see more curious gazes starting to be directed their way.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go now.”
Dimity sprang to her feet, grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door. She tugged him across the hall then up a grand staircase and along a colonnaded gallery. Jesse stared around him at the richness and splendor with a sort of dull wonder. Dimity took him down one hallway then another, up some more stairs, watched by another camera, Jesse noted, then stopped outside a wide door. He frowned as he noticed another of those oversized security lights over the door frame.
Indoors?
But then Dimity hustled him inside.
He stared around at the child-sized four poster bed, the miniature dressing table and wardrobe, the crystal ponies in a line on the mantelpiece. Dimity made straight for the writing desk in the corner, tugged open a drawer and wrestled out an armful of papers. She drew Jesse down onto the powder-pink rug and spread them out on the floor. There were pictures of horses, unicorns, rainbows and she had a story for them all.
“Hey, who’s this?” he asked, selecting a drawing of a tall man in a dark suit. His hair was done in a black crayon and his mouth a curving line of scarlet.
“That’s Daddy.” She smiled, patting the picture fondly. “That was the night he took me sailing. He was in his blue suit that night.”
“Looks like a nice bloke,” Jesse said, his heart clenching as he scanned the other pictures. “Any of your mummy?” he hedged.
She shook her head. “I don’t really see my mummy. She had me when she was very young, you see. I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s nice. But Daddy looks after me, really—or he did.” Her face fell again.
Jesse grimaced. “What happened to your dad, huh?”
She shrugged listlessly. “One day he just wasn’t there anymore.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jesse said, squeezing her shoulder. “My dad’s not around anymore, either. But it gets easier, I promise.”
“He was supposed to be at the lights,” Dimity sniffed. “If only I hadn’t got lost.”
“Hey, it’s okay, love…really. Your aunt will always make sure you’re okay,” he said, praying that was true. “That’s what families do.”
“I guess…” she said, dragging the picture of her father closer.
“She wouldn’t have come to get you in such a hurry if she didn’t care, right?”
“I guess,” she repeated, tugging at a ringlet that had fallen in her face.
“Hey,” he said, bringing out his phone and loading a design app. “You ever tried drawing on a computer?”
“I had a go on an iPad at school once,” she said, looking uneasily at the phone. “But I wasn’t very good at drawing with my finger.”
“You can use a stylus. Here,” he said, grabbing a pencil from her box on the floor and turning it eraser-side down. “Have a go. How about a Christmas tree, huh?”
She gave him a wary smile then took the phone and the pencil and carefully, tongue between her lips, outlined a Christmas tree on the screen.
“There,” he said, “just like the one downstairs. And here…” He took the phone, tapped a couple of commands and the tree filled green and sprang to life with sparkling lights. Her eyes widened.
