We Witch You A Merry Christmas - A Short Story Read online

  I knocked on the door. The howling stopped immediately. I must have spooked it.

  “Hello? Hello in there?”

  The door opened, and Betty gave me a puzzled look. “Jill? Are you okay?”

  “Fine yeah. I was just looking for the cat.”

  “Which cat?”

  “Haven’t you heard it? The stupid thing has been howling its head off for the last hour. It’s been driving me mad. I thought it was coming from inside your flat.”

  “There’s no cat in here.”

  “You must have heard it though?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything, but then I have been practising for the carol service.”

  “Carol service?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were singing?”

  “Yes. Jill are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Err—yeah—err—I’m fine. Sorry to have interrupted you.”

  “No problem. I’d better get back to my practice.”

  And so she did, and the howling started up again. Anyone know where I can get some earplugs?

  Yes! Yes! Yes! Luther was walking down the corridor towards me. I smiled my cutest smile, and glanced up at the mistletoe. I could almost feel those lips on mine. This was it! Christmas had come at last.

  “Jill!”

  I turned around to find Mr Ivers, my boring neighbour, standing behind me. He glanced at the mistletoe and smiled. Noooo! This could not be happening. But it was. Before I could object or kick him in the groin, he’d planted a big sloppy kiss on my lips. Luther grinned at the two of us as he walked past. Fantastic! I might as well rip the stupid mistletoe down for all the good it had done me.

  I’d decided to take a quick look at the Total Dream Office—partly because I wanted to make sure the display unit hadn’t been damaged, but also to find out what all the fuss was about.

  “No! No!” This could not be happening. I’d thought the box was light, but then everything was made of plastic these days wasn’t it? It turned out that my Total Dream Office wasn’t made of plastic. My Total Dream Office was made of brown paper. In fact, my Total Dream Office was just brown paper—that’s all there was inside the box. The display unit was just a box filled with brown paper. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Strike that—I knew exactly what to do.

  Beg for mercy.

  I made the call.

  “Kathy. How are you?”

  “What have you done, Jill?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The only time you ask how I am is when you’ve done something.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Have you done something?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t sound very sure.”

  “It’s more something I haven’t done.”

  “What haven’t you done, Jill?”

  “Promise you won’t be angry.”

  “I will be angry if you don’t tell me right now.”

  “It’s the Total Dream Office.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve dropped it. I warned you it was fragile.”

  “No. It’s not that. I kind of don’t have all of it.”

  “What do you mean? You aren’t making any sense. What bit of it do you have?”

  “The box.”

  There was the longest silence. I could almost feel her anger through the airwaves.

  “What happened to the rest of it?”

  “It—err—I—err—it—err—”

  “Jill!”

  “I didn’t actually buy one until today.”

  “You told me you’d bought it weeks ago.”

  “I was mistaken.”

  “Mistaken?” She was shouting now. “You mean you lied.”

  “A little.”

  “Either you lied or you didn’t. You can’t lie a ‘little’. So where’s the one you bought today?”

  “It was ex-display. But when I got it home there was only brown paper in the box.”

  “They sold you brown paper?”

  “They didn’t exactly sell it to me.”

  “Don’t tell me you stole it?”

  “Of course not. Well, not exactly. The assistant fell asleep, so I took it. But I left the money!”

  “Great! That’s just great! Well congratulations, Jill. You have single-handedly wrecked your niece’s Christmas. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

  “But, Kathy—”

  She’d hung up.

  Why was I such a terrible person? All I’d had to do was buy one toy. I was beyond stupid. How could I go to Kathy’s on Christmas Eve now? Lizzie would hate me forever.

  I didn’t sleep well that night. I tossed and turned, thinking about what I could do to make it right, and came up with a big fat nothing. Still, even though I couldn’t make things right with Kathy and Lizzie, there was still one person I could help.

  ***

  “What’s that?” Barry said. He was still under the bed.

  “It’s a sledge.”

  “Can I eat it?”

  “No. It’s for you to ride on.”

  “Cool.” He crawled out from under the bed, and jumped onto the sledge. “It isn’t moving.”

  “We have to take it outside.”

  “Don’t like the white.”

  “I know. That’s why I bought the sledge. You sit on this and I’ll pull you.”

  “What about the white?”

  “You don’t need to touch the white—err—I mean snow.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Barry looked a little apprehensive at first, but after a while he sat back and began to enjoy the ride. I’d asked the twins to come with us, but they were busy in the shop.

  “Can we go to the park?” Barry said.

  “That’s where we’re going. Don’t you recognise this route?”

  “Everything is white.”

  He was right—everywhere did look different covered in snow. It was beginning to look as if I’d get one white Christmas at least.

  “Is it white in the park?” Barry said.

  “It’s white everywhere.”

  “Don’t like the white.”

  I’d assumed that the snow would mean the park would be quieter than usual. Quite the opposite. It was full of kids sledging: Youngsters with their parents and older kids showing off to one another. We’d entered the park by a gate which was half way up the hill. That was my first mistake—I should have walked to the gate at the top of the hill, but Barry was quite a weight to pull, and I’d been hoping to get a rest. My second mistake was not staying close to the wall once we were in the park.

  I didn’t notice the sledge hurtling towards us until it was too late. In a panic, I leapt to one side as it came whizzing past.

  “That was close.” I turned around. Oh no! “Barry! Come back!”

  In my panic I’d let go of the rope. Barry plus sledge were now careering down the slope.

  I was already covered in snow, and I fell twice more as I chased after him. My boots were full of snow, and it was beginning to melt. The last I saw of Barry was when the sledge crashed through a clump of bushes. If he was hurt, I’d never forgive myself. As I scrambled under the bushes, snow fell off the leaves and down my neck. My hands were so cold that I could barely feel them.

  “Barry! Barry! Where are you?”

  After a couple of minutes, I spotted the sledge. It had come to rest next to a tree. But where was Barry?

  “What are you doing in there, Jill?” a familiar voice said.

  I crawled out from under the bushes to find Drake with a huge grin on his face.

  “I’ve lost Barry.”

  “He’s over there—with Chief.”

  I followed Drake’s gaze, and sure enough there were Barry and Chief, Drake’s dog, chasing one another around in circles.

  “But, he’s scared of the white—I mean snow.”

  “He doesn’t look very scared.”

  Drake was right.
Barry was having the time of his life.

  “Are you okay?” Drake said. “You look frozen.”

  “That dog will be the death of me.”

  “I’d invite you back to my place to warm up, but there’s somewhere I have to be in a few minutes.”

  “That’s okay.” I tried not to show my disappointment.

  “I’ll be in Washbridge tomorrow though. Maybe we can do lunch if we can get in anywhere?”

  “That would be nice.” What? Why shouldn’t I have lunch with two different men on consecutive days? I was a free agent. Don’t judge. “I know a restaurant where we’ll be able to get a table.”

  Drake called Chief, and the two of them set off home. I called Barry. Then I called him again. And again. An hour later, I finally managed to get him back on the lead.

  “I like white now,” he said.

  “So I see. Do you want to get back on the sledge?”

  “No. I’ll walk. I like white.”

  “What happened to you?” Amber giggled.

  “Don’t ask.” My teeth were chattering.

  “I thought Barry didn’t like the snow.” Pearl giggled too.

  “Apparently, he loves it now.”

  “What about you?” Pearl said.

  “I never want to see snow again as long as I live.”

  I took a nice hot shower, and treated myself to a latte and a blueberry muffin—a small one which had somehow been mislabelled ‘large’.

  Amber was busy behind the counter, but Pearl came to join me.

  “Sorry for laughing earlier,” she said, sheepishly.

  “That’s okay.” It was easier to see the funny side now I wasn’t suffering from frost bite. “Anyway, it wasn’t all bad. I ran into Drake. I’m seeing him for lunch tomorrow in Washbridge.”

  “That’s great. Do you think you and he might become an item?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows?”

  For someone with no love life my love life was getting rather complicated. Drake tomorrow and Jack Maxwell the day after.

  ***

  I wasn’t sorry to see the back of the snow. Back in Washbridge, the temperature was several degrees higher, and there was no white to be seen. I called Mrs V to ask her to book me another table at Temperature for my lunch date with Drake.

  I’d no sooner finished the call than my phone rang. It was Kathy—no doubt about to give me even more grief. I thought about letting it go to voicemail, but she would know I was ignoring her, and was likely to turn up on my doorstep. At least she couldn’t hit me or throw anything at me over the phone.

  “It took you long enough to answer,” she said.

  We were off to a good start.

  “Sorry, I was—”

  “Never mind. I need a favour and you don’t get to say no because you owe me big time for spoiling my little girl’s Christmas.”

  “Don’t say that, Kathy. I feel bad enough as it is.”

  “Good. And so you should. She’s going to be inconsolable come Christmas morning. Just thank your lucky stars you won’t be there to see it.”

  “You won’t tell her it was my fault will you?”

  “Of course I will. You don’t think I’m going to take the blame do you? Anyway, about this favour which you’ve agreed to.”

  Chapter 5

  “Why do I have to go?” Mikey whined.

  “Because I say so,” Kathy said.

  Wow, that old fall-back. My sister had finally turned into our parents.

  As a favour to Kathy, or rather as my punishment, I’d agreed to take Mikey to see Santa at one of the major department stores. Lizzie had already paid him a visit, and delivered her Christmas list which, as Kathy had made a point of telling me, had Total Dream Office at the top.

  “Santa isn’t real,” Mikey said. “It’s just a man wearing a white beard.”

  “He is real,” Lizzie yelled at him. “He’s bringing me Total Dream Office.”

  Kathy glared at me—like I didn’t already feel bad enough.

  “You only think he’s real because you’re a baby!” Mikey teased his sister.

  “I’m not a baby. I’m five!”

  “Stop arguing you two.” Kathy stepped between the kids. “You are going with Auntie Jill to see Santa, and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Do you believe in Santa, Auntie Jill?” Mikey said.

  “Me? Err—yes.”

  “Very convincing,” Kathy whispered in my ear.

  “I’m doing my best here,” I whispered back. “It’s not my fault that he doesn’t believe in Santa.”

  “No, but it’ll be your fault that Lizzie doesn’t when he fails to deliver Total Dream Office.”

  Mikey had a long face on the drive into town. My numerous attempts at starting a conversation were met with silence or a grunt.

  “Have you brought your list for Santa?”

  “No.”

  “How will he know what to bring you?”

  “Jack Brownlaw saw his dad bring his presents into his room last Christmas.”

  “How did he know it was his dad? It might have been Santa.”

  “Because his dad only has one leg.”

  “Right. Maybe his dad was helping Santa.”

  Mikey sighed, rolled his eyes and then turned to stare out of the side window. If I was going to redeem myself in Kathy’s eyes, I had to turn this around. I had to convince Mikey there really was a Santa.

  Grimshaws was the largest department store in town. My adoptive parents used to take Kathy and me there to see Santa when we were kids. I’d believed in him until I was eight years old—long after most of the other kids. That reminded me—Kathy had given up on Santa before she was five, so she had a nerve expecting Mikey to still believe.

  Are you kidding me?

  The queue wound all the way around the toy department and into the carpet section which shared the same floor.

  “Do we have to wait?” Mikey complained.

  “Yes, I promised your mum.”

  “It’s at least an hour’s wait,” the woman directly in front of us said. She had two young girls about the same age as Lizzie.

  “Sorry?”

  “They came around and told us there was a one hour wait from here.”

  Great.

  “This is Sadie and this is Cindy.” She introduced her daughters who both giggled. They were like miniature versions of the twins.

  “Santa isn’t real,” Mikey blurted out.

  The two girls immediately began to cry. Their mother gave me such a look.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, but she’d already moved a few feet away.

  “Mikey. You mustn’t say that. You’ll upset the other children.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  This was going to be a very long hour.

  It was. In fact, it was a very long hour and a half. Santa was apparently on a go-slow. Still, the end was in sight. We were only a few feet away from the entrance. Santa’s little helper, an elf, was taking the children’s names. As we got nearer, I caught a glimpse of his face.

  “Blaze?”

  Blaze worked alongside Daze. They were sup sups (short for Super Supernaturals). They worked as RRs (short for Rogue Retrievers). Essentially, they went after supernaturals who had broken the sup code of ethics, and returned them to Candlefield.

  “Hi, Jill. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you had kids.”

  “I don’t. This is Mikey. He’s my sister’s boy.”

  Blaze smiled at Mikey. Mikey scowled.

  “More to the point, what are you doing here?” I said in a whisper to Blaze.

  “We’re on the trail of a rogue wizard. Long story—I’ll fill you in some other time.”

  “Where’s Daze?”

  “Not far away.” He glanced at the grotto. “Looks like it’s your turn now.”

  I grabbed Mikey’s hand and pulled him into Santa’s Magic Kingdom which looked like it might fall down if there was a stiff breeze.

  It was
quite dark inside. Small red lights, embedded into the floor, marked a pathway to a gold throne on which was seated Santa.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” He greeted us. His voice wasn’t as deep as I’d expected it to be. “Who have we here?”

  “This is Mikey.” I gave my nephew an encouraging nudge in the back.

  “Welcome to my magical kingdom, Mikey. Come and sit next to me, and tell me what you want me to bring you for Christmas.”

  Why did that voice sound familiar?

  I nudged Mikey forward, but he refused to sit next to Santa.

  “And what would you like for Christmas, young man?” Santa leaned forward in his chair.

  “You’re not Santa!” Mikey yelled, as he pulled at the beard.

  I’m not sure who was more shocked. Mikey stood open-mouthed for a few seconds before screaming, “You’re a lady!” Then he ran out of the grotto.

  “Daze?” I stared in disbelief, as Daze reattached her beard. “Santa? Really?”

  “Not my finest hour, I’m afraid,” she said. “I hope I haven’t upset the little man.”

  “I’d better go and find him. Catch you later.”

  I eventually tracked down Mikey in the toy car section. I bought him three new cars on the promise that he wouldn’t tell his mum what had happened. What? I’m not above bribery, and besides it was a small price to pay to keep Kathy off my back.

  “Mum!” Mikey yelled. “I told you Santa wasn’t real. It was a lady with a false beard.”

  So much for the bribe.

  Kathy glared at me—again. “Where did you take him?”

  “To Grimshaws.”

  “Why do they have a woman dressed as Santa?”

  “I don’t know. You can’t blame me for that. And anyway, why shouldn’t a woman be Santa?”

  Kathy sighed and went off after Mikey.

  Another successful mission under my belt.

  ***

  I decided to drop by the office to offer moral support to Mrs V and her yarnies. I was about to cross the road when I noticed a huge banner which had been strung across the front of the building: ‘Every Child Deserves A Sock - The EAWM Charitable Foundation.’