Page 77 of Five Gold Rings

I grin and do as requested, looping up his belt and tightening it up. This is premium Santa. He’s spent some money on the outfit, high quality velour with a fitted trouser, embroidery on the cuffs.

‘You look just the part,’ I tell him. ‘That’s quite a sack.’

He stops to give me a look. ‘This is a family event, young man… keep it appropriate.’

I freeze but he starts to laugh, a big bellowing roar that echoes through the kitchen. I can’t help but join in. ‘Don’t mind me. How was the laugh? Did the laugh work?’

‘It was very authentic, I’m impressed. Is this a regular gig for you then?’ I ask him, helping him adjust his hat.

‘Only because my daughter dictates it,’ he tells me, pointing to Josie. ‘I used to be an actor,’ he says in RADA tones.

‘Wow, stage or screen?’

He pauses. ‘Screen,’ he says, still chortling, still a bit drunk, as I hand him a wiry pair of glasses to perch on his nose. He stands back from me and poses, joy lighting up his face, the music from next door accenting his moves. He’s certainly a different version of Santa, far more fun than any I’ve seen this Christmas. Is it possible he’s my favourite Santa I’ve ever met? The faint whiff of whisky radiating off him makes me think he’s going to be a fun Santa, too. Do we stand there and have a dance moment while the kitchen rushes around us? We do. It’s Christmas, after all. It’s allowed.

‘So, who are you again?’ he asks me as he fluffs out his beard.

‘I’m Eve’s friend.’

Friend. I guess that’s the point we’ve got to now with my relationship with Eve, and even though that stings a little, I try to tell myself it’s better than nothing. I take a peek out of the kitchen door again. She’s there, in the centre, still dancing with that old man, looking in a far better place than when I found her in the Caspars’ shop. Feel good you got her to this place at least, Joe. That’s what a friend would have done. Feel good that’s she here amongst all these people who love her so unconditionally and that she gets to enjoy the rest of the season.

'Aaaah, the lovely Eve. Brilliant girl. Love her,’ Santa says.

‘She on your good list?’

‘Every year – top of that list.’

‘Good.’ She deserves to be there. I smile. She’s starting to shine again, to look like the girl I remember, and it’s a relief. Deep down, I’m just glad she’s still standing. It really is a gift to hear her laugh and see her so relaxed and indulging in all that family banter and love. I can go and see my family and I know she won’t be wallowing in the sadness of what happened with Chris. That at least gives me some peace of mind. She’s here, in the safest of spaces, with people who will look after her. I’ve done my part. And then I realise, quietly if a little reluctantly, that maybe this is where it should end. Maybe we’ve come to a point now where I move on, where I can let her stay here instead of rushing off with me again.

An idea slowly comes to me, and I take a deep breath. ‘Can I ask a favour, Santa?’ I say, turning to him.

‘Sure thing.’

‘Do you have gifts you’re giving out to everyone?’

He goes to retrieve his massive hessian sack that he shakes, trying to find a way to sling it over his shoulder. ‘I’m laden with chocolates, socks, scarves and shortbread. My wife went on a bit of a mission.’

I reach into the inside pocket of my jacket and hand him a gift, wrapped in holly-patterned paper and tied with a red ribbon. I’ve had it in my jacket for far too long and the paper is slightly crinkled. ‘If you’re going out there, can you make sure Eve gets this?’

‘Will she know it’s from you?’

‘Maybe. If she asks, just say that I’ve gone to do the last ring and then I’m headed home. Tell her Merry Christmas from me…’

Santa looks down at the gift, stumbling around a bit from the alcohol. ‘You sure you don’t want to give it to her yourself?’ he asks me.

I look out at the dancefloor where she’s sharing a joke with Lucy, singing along. ‘It’s all good.’

He looks down at the gift then puts it in his sack. ‘Well, I am sure you have also been a very good boy so I will do this for you.’

‘Thank you, Santa.’

And from out of nowhere, he reaches around me, possibly a little too merry and gives me the biggest of hugs. He’ll never know how much I need that, right now, right in this moment. I hug him back. Thank you, drunk Santa. He then reaches for quite a large bell on the floor and gives me one last pose before disappearing behind that door, ringing it loudly to announce his appearance, yelling Merry Christmas to the room. I hear the crowd cheer in response. I watch as Eve’s face lights up to see him, so incredibly happy. It’s time to go. Merry Christmas, Eve. It’s been my absolute pleasure.

EIGHTEEN

Eve

‘GO SANTA! GO SANTA! GO SANTA!’