"Surely them Owls have central heating," Rob said.
We could hear the jingling bells. But here they foretold a warning rather than a pleasure.
"Didn't that radio say something about Santa?"
I vaguely remembered but at that moment in time I was more interested in getting warm as quickly as possible.
Even before that night I admit I have always found Santa Claus a little creepy. He enters your room, watches you sleep, and drinks at every house he visits. My mother had tried getting me to sit on his knee as a child but it just wasn't happening. No amount of sweets was going to change that. Mum spent most of her spare time telling me not to accept sweets from strangers. The next thing you know I was being told to sit on the strangers lap and talk to him. Well four-year old Tommy was no fool just as Tommy now was no fool.
As we all lay in our beds there came a rusty creaking sound. The sound of metalwork, a trolley perhaps, being pushed down the corridor.
"The Owls," Madeline assumed aloud.
"I don't think so. It is two in the morning," Simon answered. His voice shook a little and we all knew what he was thinking. This was the work of the Duchess.
I knew they were all thinking the same. It was written in the lines of fear on each face. Then the door began to open and a metal trolley creaked its way through the door. On it were three unhappy looking model snowmen complete with a wind up handle.
The snowman on the left had an unhappy face made of currents and a nose made of a freakishly odd-shaped half carrot. The result was that it looked as though it was missing half a nose. There was a smaller child like snowman in the centre of the trolley and a snow-woman to the right. The mother and child were just as deformed as the one on the left. The child snowman seemed somehow worse as he had his hand in an odd place as though trying to pass us something.
"What do you suppose was in his hand?" Simon sounded intrigued.
"I guess the only way were going to find out is by winding it up."
I offered the suggestion but that is all I was offering. My Santa phobia had set in and I wasn't touching those demonic looking snowmen ever.
Madeline looked around at us and, seeing no offers, began winding the handle to the left of the cabinet. I assume through a gramophone at the back we heard music, Christmas music, and a tune I recognised but with sound slower than it should have been. As though coming from a broken record player or a recording played in slow motion. The Snowmen's voice sounded deep and somehow other worldly. The song was Santa Claus is Coming To Town.
You better not shout,
you better not cry,
You better not pout I’m telling you why,
Santa Claus is coming to town.
The lyrics came out sounding more like a threat than the uplifting Christmas melody I was used to.
The snowmen moved about in an off rhythm dance. Circling each other on rails and delivering the most chilling message I have ever heard.
We looked at each other and we all came to the understanding that Christmas here was not like Christmas back home. The child snowman offered up a small piece of paper after singing about seeing us sleeping and knowing when we were awake. Madeline took a moment to study the scrolled out note. Then sounding terrified she turned to the rest of us.
"It says that Santa Claws requests our company tomorrow night. They are sending the bus for us,"
Yes Claws was spelt Claws not Claus.
"Where does he want to meet us?" Simon asked
"The North Pole," Madeline answered him.
Simon waived his hand dismissively.
"Of course he does," he replied but his sarcasm now reeked of desperation and none of us were non-believers any more. Here Santa Claws was very real and obviously meant something very different to the jolly, if slightly creepy, old fat guy at home who gave out presents.
The room went very quiet and slowly the fear drained away leaving me very cold. I watched the snowfall slow down outside. The icicles around the room slowly melted away.
Despite the coldness of the night I was able to get some sleep. When daylight broke the snowmen were nowhere to be seen but I was in no doubt that it had all been very real.
Jane the Owl opened the door with hot mugs of something attached to her claws.
"Sleep well?" she asked.
"Yes," Rob said "Apart from the evil snowmen visiting us in the middle of the night."
The Owl almost dropped the mugs as she listened on in disbelief.