"Honestly, Philippa. Ruby is asking you something. Stop gawping at that ridiculously expensive hamper and answer the poor child."
Pippa scanned the display as if there might be a second hamper she had somehow missed. "It seems very reasonably priced to me, Mother."
"Philippa, that one Christmas pudding alone costs more than a month's salary for someone on the minimum wage."
Pippa sniffed dismissively. "Quality has a price. I believe it was you, Mother, that instilled that lesson in me."
"No, dear," Cynthia protested. "Quality is the difference between a no-frills ninety-nine pence economy dessert from Tesco and a premium Christmas pudding from M&S. Paying that sort of money for a Christmas pudding is making a social statement, not buying a meal."
Pippa let go a deep sigh. "You sound more like Cassandra by the day, Mother." Pippa turned to her daughter. "Sorry, you were saying, Ruby, sweetheart?"
"Ruby asked why Jack and Darren are not coming to see Santa with her. Do keep up, dear."
Pippa scooped Ruby into her arms. "Sorry, darling. I was..." Pippa’s eyes chased down the street to where her son had Darren in a wrestling hold and was attempting to push his friend's head into a litter bin. The urge to shout out was tempered by the satisfaction that it was Darren's head in the bin. Boys will be boys.
"Well, sweetheart, Jack is a little too old for sitting on Father Christmas’s knee, do you not think?" Pippa pulled Ruby’s pink ear-muffs further over her ears. "So I'm taking Jack and Darren to some computer games store or other, while Grandma takes you to tell Father Christmas what special present you would like. Then we’ll all meet up with Ella and her friends later, at that dreadful Trocadero place."
Pippa's eyes drifted back to the window display. "Why don't you and Grandma go on, in case there's a queue. I'll catch up with Jack and Darren in a few minutes. There's something I need to do first."
Chapter 5
"Is that the Super whistling?" Red covered her mouth with one hand, watching the approach of Superintendent Blake through the glass partition. "Wonders will never cease!"
"Well, 'tis the season to be jolly," Terri Miller said. "Tra-la-la-la-lah."
"La-la-la-lah!" Anna finished. "Except the terms jolly and the Super don't really go together. Not at any time of year."
"Good morning, officers." Blake appeared in the doorway with a beaming smile. "And a merry Christmas to you all."
A rumble of "Good morning, Sir" and "Merry Christmas to you too, Sir" sprang from the astonished team.
"Someone’s looking very festive, Sir." Red nodded at the sprig of holly stuck in the Super's button-hole.
"Ah. Margaret's idea of a joke. She threatened me with no Christmas dinner unless I wore it all day."
"It suits you, Sir," Anna said "You should wear it more often."
Blake hovered in the doorway. like a vampire awaiting an invitation to cross the intended victim's threshold. He considered the proposition. "Possibly a tad too festive for the summer don’t you think? Anyway, I just thought I’d pop in and wish you all the best for the season, and to say I'll be at the Union this evening for an hour. with Margaret, and the first round's on us."
"Count me in, Sir," Taylor smarmed . "I wouldn't want to miss meeting the lovely Margaret again."
"Not when there's a free pint on offer, anyway," Anna said.
Taylor forced a smile. "You'll have to excuse Sergeant Hargreaves, Sir. She's still miffed about drawing the short straw for Christmas duty."
"Ah, yes, thanks for reminding me, Barry. Anna, I just want you and Terri to know the Chief Super appreciates you standing in for James Mackenzie at such short notice."
"The least we could do, Sir. Both Terri and I were happy to volunteer. Bad enough to be burying your mother two days before Christmas, without having to worry about shifts."
"Of course, Sir, Jez and me would've put our names forward had we been given the chance," Taylor piped up. "But by the time we got the news it was all done and dusted."
"That's right, Sir," Harris agreed wholeheartedly. "Baz and me were both dreading being sat at home in front of the TV. But obviously it's too late to change things now."
Taylor was nodding agreement like his life depended on it. "But any other time, Sir, Jez and I will be first in line. Just say the word."
Superintendent Blake came into the room, the smile widening. Red smirked, realising what was coming.
Taylor and Harris shrank back in their seats as they realised the focus of attention was on them.
"Thanks, both of you," Blake began. "Cass—that is, Chief Inspector Rose, has told me on many occasions what a great team she has and how you all pull together. But to see it in action like this..."
"Sir?" Taylor ventured, dreading the answer.
"James Mackenzie just called me, to say he'd like to extend his leave and stay over until the New Year. Obviously it's a rare family reunion for him, even if in tragic circumstances, and travel to and from the Scottish isles is not easy."
"The New Year, Sir?" Harris squeaked.
"Precisely," Blake said. "And what better place to sing Auld Lang Syne than in its spiritual home? James said he would make the trip early if there was no-one available to cover for him. And obviously DCI Rose is on annual leave with her family. So what with Anna and Terri covering Christmas it was really down to whether you two would be available."
"And you volunteered before the Super could even ask," Red jumped in. "Thanks, boys." To the Super, "You can see why I'm so proud of my team, Sir."
Taylor and Harris smiled through gritted teeth. "Our pleasure, Sir."
Chapter 6
"A cod is a fish, Jack," Pippa stated firmly.
Darren smirked at Jack. "Not very dope, your old girl, is she?"
"I beg your pardon, Darren? Not very what?"
Darren’s blank stare was enough to raise a half-smile from Pippa. "Never mind. It's probably better I don't know." To Jack, "Since when did you develop an interest in fishing, anyway?"
"Not cod, Mum. C.O.D. Call of Duty. Number four." Jack waved the empty box at Pippa. "Dad said to get it so he can give it to me for Christmas, and he’d give you the money back when he sees you next."
I'm not sure your father grasps the idea of Christmas presents being a surprise, Jack. And does your father realise this is not the innocent game about trawling the ocean depths that the title implies?"
Darren flicked razor-hacked eyebrows at Jack, twirling an index finger in a spiral motion at his temple. "Fruit loop."
"So, can I have it?" Jack persisted.
"I remember when computer games were about shooting little green men from Mars, not simulated slaughter on the battlefield."
Darren stared at Pippa in disbelief. "What, Space Invaders, you mean?"
Pippa shrugged. "Something like that, yes."
Darren's mouth dropped open. "Blimey, Mrs. CW, you really are as old as you look."
Pippa put her barristerial skills to good use and maintained an expression of perfect indifference as she imagined ramming the COD box into Darren's mouth. She plucked Warriors of Rock from the shelf. "Ah, Cassandra said something about this, I'm sure." She examined the small print with a lawyer's keen eye for detail. "It says here that this is part of a Band Bundle. What do you suppose that means?"
"That one’s easy Mrs. CW." Darren pointed at the drum kit and microphone display. "See there. You can get the whole set-up: Guitars, mike, everything. Uncle Phil got Chardonnay it last Christmas. We rocked out all day long. It’s well cool!"
Pippa studied the boy. "I am not one hundred percent certain what you just said, Darren, but I am presuming that it means the game in question meets with your approval?"
"You’re not thinking of buying it are you, Mum?" A look of horror spread over Jack’s face.
"Well, I’ve only got Cass one present so far. It's not something I
would normally buy for anyone, but I'm struggling to decide what else she might like."
"No! No way!" Jack snatched the box from Pippa’s grasp, wide-eyed. "You can’t!"
"Why ever not?" Pippa swiped the game back again, savouring her son’s discomfort. "Oh look, Bohemian Rhapsody," she read aloud, "one of Cassandra’s favourites."
Pippa glanced left and right down the games aisle before proceeding to nod her head vehemently. She smiled at Darren. "See, Dude? Head-banging. How’s that for dope?"
Jack’s eyes grew wider still. Colour rose in his face like someone had thrown paint over him.
Darren nudged Jack with an elbow. "Jack, your family is well weird!"
Chapter 7.
Red forced a smile through gritted teeth, bumping shoulders like a quarter-back as she fought her way through the sea of bodies teeming through Harvey-Williams.
Predictably dull Christmas music droned in her ears as she dodged displays sporting giant snowmen and precariously balanced reindeer whose legs appeared to have grown at different angles.
Nice going, Red! What was she thinking of, agreeing to meet Cynthia and Ruby on the busiest day of the year in the newly opened toy department of one of London's biggest stores? She tried to keep her temper in check as shoppers stopped dead or walk like drunken crabs in front of her, following the huge pointing fingers announcing Santa's Grotto, this way, almost falling onto the moving staircase that would transport her to the temporary home of the fake Father Christmas.
Red found her eyes being drawn back down the escalator opposite, where tearful children were being consoled by bewildered parents. Maybe the queue to sit on Santa’s knee was just too daunting? Or the presents he was giving out weren’t up to scratch?
At the top of the escalator Red was thrown into a wailing wall of distressed children and scarlet-faced parents.
"You promised!" A whining boy with a shock of copper hair and an unnatural amount of green snot for a moustache hopped from one foot to the other, squinting up at his embarrassed mother.
"I know I did, darling, but Santa had to go somewhere. Maybe Rudolf isn't feeling well and Father Christmas had to go see him. You wouldn’t want Santa to let all the little children down tonight, would you?"
"I don’t care about the other kids. I want to see Santa. Now!"
"Excuse me?" Red put a sympathetic hand on the woman’s arm. "Is the Grotto not open?"
The woman wheeled around to face Red. "I don't know what's going on in this place. All week they've been advertising the Grotto, getting the kids excited, and then they close it, just like that." A click of the finger and thumb emphasised the abrupt nature of the closure.
Red cast her eye around the discontented crowd, hoping to see Ruby and her grandmother. but the disgruntled woman hadn't finished with her list of complaints.
"Two hours we stood in that bloody queue. And we had to buy the ticket in advance. And then they shut the door in our face when we were almost there. There should be a law against it. In fact, I've a good mind to call the Police."
Red hid a smile. "I'm sure there's nothing the Police can do about Santa's Grotto closing early, madam. But I hear there's another Grotto at Lacey’s, just around the corner."
The woman beamed at her. "There is? You are an absolute life-saver! Thank you! Come on, Eddie, Did you hear that? You will get to see Santa after all!"
Chapter 8.
"It ain't right," Harris declared. "How does the Guv manage not only to wrangle Christmas and the New Year off, but to shoot off early on Christmas Eve too?"
"RHIP," Anna said.
Harris looked blank.
"Rank has its privileges," Terri said. "The numero uno gets first grab at the holiday slots and us mere minions have to take what's left. But to be fair, she wasn't to know Mac would be on bereavement leave."
"Besides, think of the over-time over the new year," Anna added. "We'll be out spending our money and you'll be on call earning it."
"Eff off, the both of yous." Taylor shot an icy glare at Terri and Anna.
"No-one but yourself to blame, Baz," Anna said. "If you two weren't so busy crawling up at the Super's backside you'd be out on the town New Year's eve with the rest of us."
"It was Jezza's fault."
"You started it," Harris objected.
"Yeah, well I was caught off guard. I've never seen the Super smiling before. Should have known it was a trap."
"That you both walked right into," Terri laughed. "Your faces... Priceless!"
"Piss off, Tex."
"Cool it, Barry," Anna warned. "Anyway, fair's fair. Terry and I are on call tonight and tomorrow."
"Big deal. Nothing happens on bloody Christmas Eve. You two can sit in front of the TV all night knowing there won't be a call-out. It's only the muppets in uniform who do any work at Christmas."
"Well if anything comes up tonight, Baz, we'll give you a call, shall we?" Terri suggested.
Taylor shrugged. "May as well. I've got to pick Brenda up from her shift at The Halo at eight in the morning, so can't go drinking tonight anyway. And Jezza is on the wagon trying to impress his new tart. Any excitement would be welcome."
"Things could be worse," Terri said. "Think of the poor Guv, fighting her way through the West End crowds. Now that's what I call a boring afternoon."
Chapter 9.
"Inspector Rose! Am I pleased to see you!"
Red turned from the maelstrom of moaning mini-me’s to see a vaguely familiar ruddy face and corpulent body straining against an expensive suit. A podgy hand was thrust out to greet her.
"Thank goodness you're here, Inspector. I was just about to call for the Police when I recognised you."
Red looked him up and down, trying to put a name to the face.
The man sensed her confusion. "The suicide jumper, in the summer?"
"Mr. Leather?"
"Leatherhead. Nigel Leatherhead. Store manager."
Unwelcome memories of the incident flooded Red's mind. "Chief Inspector Rose," she said. "Nice to meet you again. But Mr. Leatherhead, if there's a problem needing Police involvement I'm really not the right person to speak to. Firstly I'm off duty, and secondly this is not my jurisdiction. I work from Battersea."
"Battersea?" Leatherhead considered the statement. "Then you'll probably know the officer involved. I understand he's based at Battersea Police Station."
"The Police are already here?"
"No. I mean, yes. But not in the way you mean." Leatherhead looked flustered. "It's a rather delicate situation. If you could just spare me five minutes?"
Red shook her head, remembering the dressing down from the Super after the last time. "I'm supposed to be meeting my... That is, I'm supposed to be meeting a child and her grandmother here." A pause, then, "Did you say an officer from Battersea was here? I don't understand. This isn't their manor."
"Please, Chief Inspector." Leatherhead fiddled with his tie, pushing Armani specs up a perfectly straight nose. "This is a rather unusual situation. I need someone to tell me I'm doing the right thing."
"The right thing?"
Leatherhead took a deep breath. "My security staff are detaining Santa Claus."
Red glanced around, half-expecting the ghost of Jeremy Beadle to pop up with a microphone. "What is this, some new hidden-camera show?"
"If only." Leatherhead's worried stare assured Red it was for real.
"Your security staff have detained Santa?"
Leatherhead nodded grimly. "And he's... He's a policeman. We need you to arrest him."
Chapter 10.
"Juice, missus?" A under-enamoured elf sporting two huge red circles on his cheeks and a limp velvet hat on his head shoved a tray under Cynthia Crichton’s nose.
"Why, thank you." Cynthia handed a plastic beaker of orange squash to Ruby. To the elf, "It's very kind of the management to provide refreshments, young man, but I think most customers w
ould have preferred a faster service seeing Santa in the first place."
"The store management are doing everything they can to ensure that normal service is resumed as quickly and efficiently as possible." The elf recited a one-size-fits-all prepared script with a forced smile.
"I rather think—" Cynthia’s thoughts were lost to posterity as her phone shrilled a Michael Buble Christmas song. Ella's name flashed up.
"Ella darling, where are you?"
"Hey, Gran. Me and the girls are in Harrods. We can't afford anything, but its fun looking. Is Tues there, please? I just wanted to see what she got from Santa."
"Ruby is right here, darling, but we've not seen Santa yet. Any minute now, though. There's only a few people in front. Here, Ruby, it’s for you. It’s your big sister, checking up on you."
Ruby pressed the phone to her ear. "Hi, Els."
"Hey, Tues. Gran tells me you've not seen Santa yet. Never mind. Won't be long now." Ella’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Can you keep a secret?"
Ruby nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Don't tell Gran, but I’m getting her that scarf that she wanted for Christmas. I'll show you when we meet up at the Troc' later, and you can wrap it up for her tonight, okay?"
"Yay!"
"Meanwhile keep Grandma out of trouble and make sure she doesn't get lost on the way out of the Grotto."
Chapter 11
Red reluctantly followed Leatherhead, weaving a circuitous path through the crowds, to a door marked Staff Only.
Red glanced at her mobile. "This had better be good. I should have been somewhere ten minutes ago."
In the relative quite of the corridor that separated warehouse from store, Leatherhead cleared his throat. "As I was saying, Inspector, we have a situation with our Santa."
"It's Chief Inspector. And to be honest, I'm not too worried about your Santa. It's the police officer from Battersea that concerns me. Why would a Battersea officer be in the West End?"
Leatherhead ran a finger under his collar. "It was all going so swimmingly. We were reaching our allotted target of twelve children an hour — that's four minutes per child and one minute change-over — and the elves were on a rotational break system. Both the youngsters and the parents seemed pleased with the quality of their gifts. Given how much we charge we try to —"