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

  “I’d love to, but I have too much on what with—err—this and—err—that. You know how it is.”

  She eyed me suspiciously. She knew as well as I did that I hadn’t had a sniff of a case in weeks.

  “Anyway, I’m just on my way to pick up Mikey from school.”

  “How is the little lamb? I bet he’s looking forward to Santa coming, isn’t he?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Give him and Lizzie my love.”

  “Will do. Better dash.”

  “Jill! Hold on.”

  Almost made it.

  “I meant to ask how your lunch date went with Detective Maxwell?”

  “Great thanks.” I didn’t want to make her feel even worse by telling her she’d messed up the bookings.

  ***

  This had better work. I’d parked in the school’s car park and was waiting for the man who’d been hired to play Santa. If my calculations were correct, he should be arriving at any moment. It wasn’t difficult to spot him. The first clue was his physique (or lack of it). He didn’t need any padding to play the part. The second clue was the sticker in the back window of the car: Nicholas Saint - professional Santa Claus. What did he do the rest of the year, I wondered. Compile the naughty list perhaps?

  He didn’t hear me walk up behind him as he leaned into the back seat of his car. He was a big man, so I had to put extra effort into the ‘sleep’ spell. As he slumped onto the seat, I hoped the spell would last long enough so he didn’t wake up until I was back. If I’d miscalculated, and he woke up before then, I’d really have some explaining to do.

  I knew the party was in the hall, so I used the ‘shrink’ spell to sneak past security and into the main building. Back at full size, I faced a real test of my magic powers. I’d used the ‘illusion’ spell before, but usually only on one person at a time. This particular variation of the spell required I effectively create a mass illusion. That required a whole different level of concentration. I wasn’t even sure if I was up to it. If I wasn’t, I’d be found out very quickly.

  There were about thirty children in the hall. I recognised them as the kids from Mikey’s class—I’d seen them once before when I’d paid his class a visit to stop another boy from bullying him.

  I closed my eyes, and focussed. When I was sure I was ready, I cast the spell. Now came the moment of truth.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” I yelled, in my best fat man’s voice.

  The kids all fell silent. I studied their faces as I took a seat at the front of the hall. Someone had placed a sack full of tiny presents behind the seat.

  “Merry Christmas, children!” I shouted.

  “Merry Christmas, Santa!” the majority of kids called back. Their initial shock had been replaced by a look of sheer joy. I spotted Mikey. He was standing with three other boys. They weren’t smiling. Instead, they were whispering to one another.

  “Come and sit on the floor. When I call your name, come and collect your present, and tell me what you’d like for Christmas.”

  Just then, the door behind me swung open. My heart missed a beat as I wondered if the ‘real’ Santa had woken early. It was a young woman—no doubt one of the teachers. I had to act quickly, casting the spell as I turned to face her.

  “Oh? Santa? I didn’t realise you’d arrived.” She gave me a nervous smile. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

  “No, thanks. I was just about to begin.”

  She nodded and backed out of the room.

  There was a list of names on a type-written sheet which had been tucked into the sack of presents.

  “Helen Allan.”

  A young girl with pigtails and a missing front tooth, jumped to her feet, and rushed over to me.

  “What would you like me to bring you on Christmas Day, Helen?”

  “I want a Total Dream Office.”

  Don’t we all?

  “And a Smash Kids Jigsaw, and a—”

  It took another five minutes for her to reel off the full list. I hoped her parents had plenty of money—they were going to need it. Half of the presents in the sack were wrapped in pink wrapping paper; the other half were wrapped in blue. Not very PC.

  “There you go, Helen.” I handed her one of the ‘blue’ presents. “Have a great Christmas.”

  I called each of the kids in turn. Some kids had a Christmas list as long as your arm, others had more reasonable expectations. One young girl wanted a real lion. I said I’d see what I could do.

  “What’s your name, little boy?”

  “I’m not little. And my name is Jack Brownlaw.”

  This was the kid who’d convinced Mikey that there was no Santa. The kid who’d caught his father delivering the presents.

  “What would you like for Christmas, Jack?”

  “What do you care? You’re just an ordinary man with a false beard.”

  There was a collective gasp from the other kids.

  “Are you saying you don’t believe in Santa Claus?”

  “Yeah. There’s no such thing. I saw my dad put out the toys last year.”

  “That’s because I asked your dad to help. I’d twisted my ankle that day.”

  He laughed. He wasn’t buying it. It was time to bring out the big guns.

  “Why don’t you believe I bring the presents?”

  “Because you can’t deliver them to everyone. It would take too long.”

  “I see. Well, you haven’t taken into account the fact that I can be in more than one place at once.”

  Jack laughed again, but a little more nervously this time.

  “Look!” I pointed to the back of the hall.

  There was a huge gasp when the kids spotted the facsimile of me. I’d cast a second illusion spell to make them see another ‘me’. The other ‘Santa’ waved at them.

  “And over there!”

  Another spell—another Santa. I wouldn’t have been able to perform this kind of magic even a few weeks earlier. My powers were now starting to come into their own. By the time I’d finished, there were five other Santas standing around the edge of the hall.

  “So, now do you see how I can deliver presents to all the children?” I said.

  The whole class, including Jack Brownlaw, stared open-mouthed. I glanced over at Mikey—I could see in his eyes that my work was done.

  After the last of the presents had been handed out, I made my way back to the car park. With a quick ‘forget’ spell, I sent Nicholas Saint on his way.

  When it was time to collect Mikey, he came running out to greet me.

  “Santa is real!” he yelled.

  “I know. What made you change your mind?”

  “I saw him. He can be in more than one place at the same time. Even Jack Brownlaw believes in him now.”

  “That’s great, Mikey.”

  ***

  “I don’t believe it,” Kathy said, once Mikey had gone to play in his room.

  “What?”

  “The Santa at school seems to have convinced Mikey that he was real. I can’t make head or tail of it. Something about multiple Santas. Whatever he did, I don’t care. Mikey’s going to believe in him for at least one more year.”

  “That’s great. Have you heard from Peter? How’s he getting on with his course?”

  “It sounds like he’s enjoying it. I’m a bit worried about the weather though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The snow is even worse where he is. If it doesn’t let up, he’ll struggle to get home.”

  “He has to get home for Christmas.”

  “I told him that if he doesn’t, he’s a dead man. By the way, how did your lunch with Jacky Boy go?”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Come on, you know who I mean. How did your date with Jack Maxwell go?”

  Kathy didn’t know about Drake, so I couldn’t tell her what really happened.

  “Not as well as I’d hoped.”

  “You didn’t get drunk and make a fool of yourself again did
you?”

  “Of course I didn’t. I was just a little err—distracted—that’s all.”

  “Are you seeing him again over Christmas?”

  “No. He’s going back home to see his family. Look, I’d better be making tracks.”

  “Okay. See you on Christmas Eve then.”

  ***

  The snow had started to fall again. If it kept this up, there was a real possibility that Peter wouldn’t get back. That was all we needed. It would be bad enough when Lizzie realised she hadn’t got the present she’d had her heart set on. How would the kids take it if their Dad couldn’t get home?

  As I walked back along the high street, a giant ball of wool handed me a flyer advertising Martin Laslo at the Ever A Wool Moment Christmas party. Once again, Grandma had mobilised her marketing might. The high street was full of identical man-sized balls of wool, all handing out the flyers. Might she have overstretched herself this time? Martin Laslo had a massive following—at least according to Kathy. How would everyone fit into that tiny shop?

  Chapter 8

  This was it. This was my final shot at getting Luther under the mistletoe, and I was determined it would work. Anyone who saw me loitering in the corridor outside my flat would probably have thought I was up to no good.

  And, they’d have been right. Snigger.

  Mr Ivers appeared. He looked really excited.

  “Good morning, Mr Ivers,” I said.

  “Morning, Jill.”

  “You look very pleased with yourself.”

  “I am. You’ll never guess what’s happened.”

  I was pretty sure I would. “What’s that?”

  “Look what I received in the mail just now.” He handed me a card which looked quite familiar.

  “Oh—you’ve won a prize.”

  “Isn’t it great? I have to go and collect it from the Town Hall.”

  “What have you won?”

  “It doesn’t actually say, but it’s quite valuable apparently.”

  “When did you enter the competition?”

  “I didn’t. All Washbridge residents were automatically entered. The winners were picked out by postcode, and mine came out!”

  “That’s fantastic. That’s a nice early Christmas present for you. I guess you’ll be out for a while then?”

  “I guess so. I’ll let you know what I’ve won the next time I see you.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  One down, one to go.

  Grandma’s influence must be rubbing off on me. I was turning into an evil witch. Oh, well. Needs must.

  “Jill!”

  “Good morning, Betty. You’re up bright and early.”

  “I know. You’ll never guess what’s happened.”

  I just might. “What’s that?”

  “Look what I got in the post.” She handed me an identical card.

  “You’ve won a prize!”

  I really should be on stage. Washbridge Amdram – watch out.

  “I know. Isn’t it exciting?”

  “Very. When did you enter the competition?”

  “I didn’t. Apparently, all the addresses in Washbridge were entered automatically, and mine came out a winner.”

  “How lucky!”

  “Yes, I’m just on my way to the Town Hall now to collect my prize.”

  “Do you know what you’ve won?”

  “No, but it says it’s valuable.”

  “You’d better hurry then.”

  “I will. I’ll probably catch up with you later.”

  “Yeah. Do let me know what you’ve won.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  Two down. None to go. It’s just you and me now, Luther.

  I knew he’d show up sooner or later. Sure enough, after twenty minutes, I heard Luther singing. Any moment now, he’d turn the corner, and our eyes would meet. Then he’d see the mistletoe, and kiss me. Once he’d kissed me, he’d realise what he’d been missing, and ask me out on a date. After a few dates, we’d get engaged, and then married, and then—hang on—don’t get too carried away, Jill.

  He was walking towards me. Any second now he’d see the mistletoe, notice me, and bingo! Our fates would be sealed.

  “Luther!” A voice came from behind me.

  I spun around to see his assistant, Lucinda.

  “Oh!” She giggled. “I see mistletoe.”

  No! That’s my mistletoe. Leave it alone.

  “Morning, Lucinda,” Luther said.

  What about me? I’m right here. Hello?

  The two of them drew closer and closer, and then their lips met under the mistletoe. I stood there—like a spare part—just watching them. After their kiss, Luther turned to me and said, “Oh, hello, Jill. I didn’t see you there.”

  Obviously.

  “Come on, Luther, we’re running late,” Lucinda said. “We’d better hurry.” Then she glanced at me. “Nice to see you again—err—Jill, isn’t it?”

  “Nice to see you too Loo—sin—da.” Then she’d gone. They’d both gone. And with them, my last chance of getting a Christmas kiss from Luther Stone. My future was in tatters. My engagement, my wedding dreams and the children we would have had together—all gone.

  Merry blooming Christmas.

  ***

  It was the day of the Ever A Wool Moment Christmas party. I really wanted to give it a miss, but if I didn’t turn up, Grandma would be incandescent, and the consequences wouldn’t be pretty. At least I wasn’t going alone. I’d have Mrs V for moral support.

  “What do you mean, you’re not going?” I said.

  “I can’t, dear.” Mrs V looked absolutely exhausted. She’d been knitting non-stop for hours. All of her yarnie friends had now gone home, unable to carry on a moment longer. So it was just Mrs V, at her desk, knitting as though her life depended on it. Her eyes were sunken, and her face was pale and drawn. She looked dreadful.

  “Mrs V, you really should go home.”

  “I can’t, dear. I made a promise to have the hundred socks ready in time for Christmas Eve. I can’t let the children down.”

  “But you’re going to make yourself ill.”

  “I can’t let them down, Jill. I have to do it.”

  “I wish I could stay with you and help, but if I don’t go to Grandma’s Christmas party, she’ll kill me—or worse.”

  “It’s okay, dear. I understand. She’ll probably have a go at me for not turning up, but I don’t care. The children are more important than your Grandma and her silly party.”

  “I’d better be off,” I said. “Take care, and when you reach the point that you can’t do any more, please take a taxi home. I’ll pay for it.”

  “I’ll be fine. Go and enjoy your party.”

  Some chance.

  ***

  I’d only gone a few yards along the high street when I noticed a long queue, which was made up predominantly of young women. The queue snaked around the corner and down towards Grandma’s shop. I couldn’t imagine what they could be queuing for. Then, when I got to the door of Ever A Wool Moment, I realised. They were all there for Grandma’s Christmas party.

  How had she managed to get Martin Laslo to appear at a Christmas party in a wool shop? Surely there must have been hundreds of venues who would have paid him a small fortune to appear. And, how were all these people going to get inside ‘Ever’? More importantly, how was I going to get inside? Standing either side of the door were two burly security guards. They were checking tickets before allowing anyone in. And I didn’t have one.

  I started towards the door.

  “You’ll have to get to the back of the queue,” said one of the security men.

  “Yeah, what do you think you’re doing?” shouted a girl at the front of the queue. “We’ve been waiting here for two hours. Get in line.”

  “But, it’s my grandma’s shop.”

  “No cutting in,” someone else shouted.

  Suddenly I realised that I had the perfect excuse to duck out. If they wouldn’t let me i
n, what could I do? Oh well. Never mind.

  “Let her in.” Grandma’s voice boomed. She was standing just inside the door. One of the security men beckoned me through.

  “How come she gets in?” someone said.

  “Yeah, why can she get in without a ticket?”

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Grandma said.

  “I’ve been working,” I lied.

  “Priorities, young lady. Priorities. And where’s Annabel?”

  “Mrs V can’t come. She’s still knitting socks for the children’s home; they have to be ready for tomorrow. She’s absolutely exhausted.”

  “Huh! Excuses, excuses. Some people just don’t understand what’s important.”

  Unbelievable.

  “Anyway, I have things I have to attend to.” She grumbled. “Go and see Kathy; she’ll give you a drink.” With that, Grandma disappeared into the crowd.

  I managed to fight my way to where Kathy and three other people were serving drinks from behind a makeshift bar. I caught her eye, and she came over to me.

  “This is madness!” she said. “Sheer madness. Did you see the queue outside? It stretches right around the block. It’s been like that all day.”

  I glanced around. The shop was full, but it wasn’t that full. “Where are they all?”

  “I don’t understand it.” Kathy shrugged. “They’ve been coming in in droves for ages, but the shop doesn’t seem to get any fuller.”

  It didn’t make sense—then the penny dropped—Grandma was obviously using magic.

  “What time does Martin Laslo make his appearance?” I asked, after Kathy had handed me a drink.

  “In about an hour. He seems like a nice young kid. He’s in the back room. Come with me, and I’ll introduce you.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “Come on, Jill. It’s less crowded in there.”

  She dragged me through to the back office, and sure enough, there was Martin Laslo.