CHAPTER 11
“Rudolph?” I ask as we walk away.
“Oh, it’s just our reindeer,” she says. “He keeps our things safe while we’re setting up.”
I’m slightly alarmed by this, half expecting to come across a real reindeer in the middle of the mall, but somehow she senses what I’m thinking.
“Don’t worry, he’s plastic,” she says.
“So where are you from?” I ask, trying to think of something to say that doesn’t make me look like an idiot in front of this stunning girl.
“Oh, um,” she glances at me. “We live up north.”
“Really? And you come down here to play Santa for a month? Well, not actually you, y’know, your dad, obviously.”
She shrugs. “We don’t usually do it in shopping malls, but Dad wanted to come here this year. Change of scenery, I guess.”
“Where do you usually do it then?” I ask.
“Oh, um. Nowhere.”
Well, this conversation officially got awkward.
“I love your hair so much,” I say to change the subject. “I would kill for my parents to let me dye my hair like that.”
She shrugs again. “Dad doesn’t mind. It pretty much matches his suit so he actually likes it at this time of year. I tend to keep it blue for most of the year, but you have to be a bit more festive in December.”
“Wow, your dad must be really laid-back. My dad would have a heart attack if I dyed it any colour, let alone something pretty like that.”
“I don’t see what say your dad has in it. It’s your hair, you have a right to have it whatever colour you want.”
“People have been expelled for less in my school. Doesn’t your school mind?”
“I don’t go to school. I’m homeschooled so it doesn’t matter what colour my hair is. I still don’t see how any parent or school can tell you how to have your hair.”
“Believe me, they can. Uniform is really important in my school. Apparently coloured hair is non-uniform so it’s not allowed.”
Blizzard snorts. “Well, that just makes me glad I don’t go to school.”
“How old are you?” I ask. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. You seem really mature.”
“I’m twelve,” she says. “But I’ve been around. I’ve seen a lot of places.”
I nod, but really I don’t know why she’s being so cryptic.
“So, homeschooled, huh? What do you do all day?”
“Well, in the mornings I study like normal people. History, maths, science, all that rubbish. Then in the afternoon I just help my mum and dad out, y’know, help them run things, keep track of the elv... er, books and accounts. I help my mum in the kitchen, and study how my dad works as one day I’ll take over his business.”
I nod. Again with the cryptic.
“So what does your mum do?”
“You heard of Mrs Claus’s Cookies?”
“Of course,” I say. “Who hasn’t?”
They’re like a world famous brand of cookies.
“Well, she makes them. And she feeds all the workers because she’s a really good cook, so she spends like all day in the kitchen.”
“Wow, that’s really cool. If my mum did that she’d never have any cookies left because I’d eat all the dough.”
“Mum makes extra batches of dough just for me,” Blizzard says like it’s nothing.
Wow. I can’t work out if she’s really spoiled or just really lucky. I can’t imagine my mum making extra dough just for me or Pippa to eat. She gets mad if we steal just a spoonful of the dough she’s making anyway.
“So what does your dad do when he’s not being Santa for a month?”
She glances at me before answering, almost like she’s measuring me up and deciding whether she wants to answer or not.
“He runs an organization,” she says eventually. “He keeps things on track. Everyone listens to him.”
“And no one minds him playing Santa for a whole month, miles away from his job?”
“It’s not exactly a problem.” She sounds like she’s laughing.
I get the impression that I’m asking too many questions so I think I had better be quiet for a while.
“So how old are you?” Blizzard asks after a moment’s silence.
“Ten,” I say. “I’ll be eleven in January.”
“Cool,” she says. “So what’s it like around here? Any fun things to do? Do you get special privileges because your dad works here?”
I shrug. “Not really. I guess I get treated nicely by the shopkeepers because they know me, they often give me, like, a free ice cream or chocolate or something, which is cool. I like coming here.”
“And you have a little sister, right?”
I nod. “How’d you know that?”
She pauses for a moment. “Oh, uh, I guess your dad mentioned it when he came to see us earlier.”
I get the feeling that there’s something she’s not telling me, but I think it’s best not to push my luck right now.
It feels weird suddenly, like Blizzard and her dad know too much about me, like the nasty Santa did, but I don’t feel creeped out by Blizzard or the nice Santa.
“I would love a little sister,” she says. “I’m an only child, and although there are lots of people to talk to where we live, I sometimes wish I wasn’t on my own so much.”
“Pippa’s five,” I say. “We don’t really like the same things or have much in common yet but I suppose we will as we get older. I love her though. It’s kind of awesome because she looks to me like I’m the best thing in the world even though I’m not.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Kaity, I think you’re pretty great.”
I stare at her. “Why?” I ask before I can stop it coming out. Of course I know that you’re not supposed to refuse a compliment but still. I don’t see how this perfect, beautiful girl could think there was anything good about a dull person like me.
She laughs. “Because you’re innocent and fun and think that everything will be all right in the end. Right?”
Again, I get the feeling that she knows more than she’s letting on. I feel like she’s talking about my parents divorce, even though there’s no possible way she could know about that, and even if somehow she did, she wouldn’t know how I feel about it.
“I guess,” is all I say in reply.
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” she says. “Santa knows a good person when he meets one.”
I don’t know what to say to that. But I do know that it makes me feel warm inside and like maybe things really will be all right in the end.
“Here we are. This is Rudolph,” Blizzard says as we turn the corner nearest the staff only entrance.
We’ve come across a giant plastic reindeer, almost as tall as I am. Underneath the reindeer are sacks and boxes, which I assume are full of supplies.
“Don’t you worry that this stuff will get stolen?” I ask, as although this is a staff only part of the mall, it’s just left sitting in the hallway where anyone could nab it.
“No one would dare to steal from Rudolph, would they boy?” She asks the reindeer apparently, patting its thigh as we stand next to it. “Besides, he wouldn’t let them.”
Okaaay. In the grand scheme of things, I guess chatting to a plastic reindeer isn’t that weird. Really. I walk around and look at the reindeer with his huge antlers, which admittedly do look pretty scary, even in plastic, and his glowing nose. I can see why people wouldn’t pinch anything he was standing over.
“Here,” Blizzard says, pulling felt snow out of a bag. “Grab this for me, will you?”
I take it from her.
I notice that Blizzard smells of cookies. On anyone else, smelling of food would be gross, but on Blizzard, it’s nice. It’s a warm and homely comforting smell, and somehow I don’t think it’s perfume.
“Look, these are the sweets I made. What do you think?”
She’s holding out a bag to me, and as I peer in
side it, to be honest, I can’t believe the sweets inside aren’t real. It looks like a Pick ‘n’ Mix she just picked up in a shop.
“Wow,” I say. “You really made these?”
She nods.
“You didn’t just varnish real sweets?”
She laughs. “No, I made them. Copied from real sweets, obviously, but they’re only made from clay that you stick in the oven to set. It’s really easy actually, you just need a bit of patience and practice.”
“I’d be worried that kids would try to eat these.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll be glued on with super glue, no kid is getting them off without a fight.”
I nod. I’m sure some will try anyway.
“Come on, we should take these back to Daddy,” Blizzard says. “He’ll have nailed himself to the roof by now and will need someone to rescue him.”
I giggle.
“It must be pretty cool to have a dad being Santa once a year. I mean, I see the Santa that the mall hires every year and it looks like a really fun job to do. I love Christmas time, you know, I like everything that goes with it. But I don’t think I’ve ever met his family before, sure the occasional grandkid that pops in, but there’s never been someone like you here to help him out. Are you going to be here every day?”
“Sure I am. It’s my job to be here every day. Just think of me as one of Santa’s elves.”
“So does your dad do this every year?”
She doesn’t answer me straight away and I think that maybe she’s not going to. Eventually she says, “He does... something like this every year, yeah.”
I decide not to push any further.
“So you don’t believe in Santa Claus then?” Blizzard asks, and it feels like a loaded question. I get the feeling that maybe she and her dad are taking their roles a little too seriously.
“Well,” I start carefully. “Everyone knows that Santa isn’t real, I mean apart from little kids, obviously, they still think he’s real. Like my sister Pippa, she still believes in Santa and the elves and the North Pole and all of that, but obviously now we’re older we know that it’s nothing more than a Christmas story, but that’s okay because it’s a nice Christmas story and I really believe in anything that helps to spread Christmas cheer. My dad used to tell me that anyone who helps encourage Christmas spirit, like the guys who dress up as Santa in the mall each year, that even though they’re not the real Santa, they’re one of his elves here on his behalf because he can’t be everywhere at once, and I think that’s a lovely story. That’s what we tell Pippa even to this day.” I realise I’m babbling and snap my mouth shut quickly, worried I’ve made a total fool of myself. Something about Blizzard makes me want her to like me. If she’s here every day then maybe we could be friends and I’d like that. She seems so much more mature than most of the people I know.
“That’s... lovely, actually.” Blizzard says. “I’ve never heard that one before but it’s really nice. Most people just tell their kids something completely unimaginative like Santa is magic and of course he can be everywhere at once, like how stupid do they think kids are, you know?”
I nod even though I have no idea why she’s upset about it.
We’re back in the main part of the mall, and Santa is still up on his ladder, but obviously waiting for us now rather than doing anything.
“Oh, there you are,” he says as we approach. “I thought you’d got lost somewhere between corridor A and B.”
“Don’t worry. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s my way around this mall,” I say, even though I know he wasn’t being serious, and god why do I have to open my big mouth?
Santa is grinning down at me though. “That I’m sure of,” he says, somewhat cryptically. I see where Blizzard gets it from.
“Here you go, Dad,” she hands him some of the felt snow I was carrying.
“So,” I say, more to Santa than to Blizzard—and yes, it feels strange referring to him as Santa all the time, he should just tell me his name and be done with it. “Do you know that you’ve got a bit of competition this year? You know the mall has hired another Santa?”
I wasn’t sure if I should even bring it up—partly because I’m trying to forget about the other Santa, and partly because it really is nothing to do with me—but fair is fair and he should at least know that there’s more than one Santa competing for the children’s attention this year.
Something strange happens then. The atmosphere around the grotto changes—it was sparkly and Christmassy, but suddenly my question takes all the sparkle out of it. Santa and Blizzard both draw in a breath and share a look.
“We are... aware,” Santa says eventually. “We’re aware of the problem. Don’t you worry about it though, Kaity. We’ll be keeping an eye on him.” Then he stops and draws in another breath before smiling suddenly and the tension in the atmosphere eases a bit. “It’s Christmas, there’s always room for more than one Santa. We’ll just have to tell the children they’ll get two gifts this year.”
My dad appears next to me then. “Hi there, Kaity Kait,” he says. “You’ve certainly kept yourself occupied this afternoon. I hope she hasn’t been a bother to you, Santa?”
“Not at all,” Santa says, sounding jolly again. “It’s been a joy to have her. I need more little elves like this one.”
And again, I feel all warm inside. I know that I probably haven’t done anything at all to assist Santa apart from annoy him and Blizzard with too many questions, but I feel nice that he would say that.
“Kaity, anytime you’re bored, you pop right on by to see me and Blizzard, we love having you around, don’t we, honey?”
“Yep,” Blizzard says. “It’s been so great to meet you.”
And even though I don’t feel like it has, and I’ve probably done nothing but irritate her, I feel that she is being completely genuine when she says it. It’s not just an act because my father is here, but that she really means it. And that Santa does too. And I know I’m blushing from head to toe.
“I must say the grotto is looking excellent, sir,” Dad says to Santa. “Very good work on that.”
Santa smiles. “I do my best. And Kaity has been a grand help to us both.”
I feel honoured. I really do, and I know it’s kind of silly and really what a stupid thing to feel honoured about, but I do anyway and I can’t hide the smile that creeps across my face anymore than I can hide the blush.
“We’ve got to get going,” my dad says. “We’ll catch you tomorrow though. Night-night both.” He says cheerily, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me away.
“Thanks for having me,” I say. “See you tomorrow.”
“C’mon, Kait, we’ve gotta pop back to my flat before you go home because I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oooh, what is it?” I ask.
“If I tell you now then it won’t be a surprise, will it?”