The Magic of Christmas

Travis and Rosie’s celebration dinner and night out was a sombre affair. Her first words to him as he approached in the bar after the interview set the tone for the evening.

‘Well did you get the job?’ she asked him expecting a curt but happy “no” followed by an outrageous excuse as to why he had been rejected.

All Travis could say to her was ‘I got the job,’ which was totally unexpected. It dumbfounded, flabbergasted and pleased her; she was also exasperated with Travis; every time he tried to tell her he was the new Santa Claus; his mouth either became glued shut, or ran away with itself, spouting useless drivel.

‘You’re having me on, aren’t you,’ she said after a minute or two listening to the rubbish coming out of his mouth. ‘Just say you never got the job, I wasn’t expecting you to get it anyway. Stop talking rubbish and tell me!’

‘Rosie!’ Travis said browned off, and already fed up with the conversation. ’I would love to say I didn’t get the job, but I can’t because part of the job says I can’t lie any more, and when I tell you what the job is, it comes out as rubbish because no one can know what I do except immediate family. There are to many ears out here love. Leave it till we get home because every time I try to tell you I’m the new “halogen light bulb” (Santa Claus) it comes out as rubbish and you think I’m taking the Mick.

At first, Rosie thought Travis was just a little reluctant to tell her about his new job for reasons known only to him. Probably the embarrassment of actually having a job was making him tongue tied. She knew about his aversion to work, and was more than surprised when he told her the job was his. It had been an exercise of the mind wondering all day what excuse he would dream up to tell her he didn’t get the job. She even had a ten pound bet with his brother Peter on the out come of the days adventure, but the way he clammed up whenever she broached the subject had her mind working overtime, and her feelings of joy at his job, soon began to evaporate with his refusal to tell her what the job actually was. After an hour of constant badgering which was making Travis irate, she eventually managed to get out of him, the statement asking her to wait till they got home, but she was still far from satisfied, and began to goad him, trying to guess and annoy him into saying what the new job was.

‘A bouncer at Mothercare,’ she quipped, and laughed at his stonewall face as he glared at her. ‘Or what about the second man on an ice cream van? Or I know, third man on the shovel digging holes in the road.’

‘Very funny,’ he snapped, ‘you won’t be laughing when you find out,’ he glared at her, ‘so laugh all you want, because my job means you’ll have to give up your kitchen job.’

It was the worst thing he could have said to her without giving an explanation. Rosie’s mood which was volatile at the of best of times, suddenly turned on a sixpence changing from happy and jovial to that of a brooding lioness who thought her cubs were in danger.

‘Get one thing straight Travis McGee,’ she snarled at him, ‘I ain’t giving nothing up, certainly not for you, you miserable toe rag. I’ll see you in hell first!’

‘Keep that in mind,’ Travis countered, ‘and remember it, when you see the old sod who forced the job on me. It isn’t my fault Rosie; the job is conditional on your help. Believe me girl, just like me you’re not going to have much say about it.’

‘Yeah,’ she sneered, ’Nothings ever your fault is it. I don’t know Travis, I can’t even enjoy a night out with you, you have to spoil it somewhere don’t you? What’s so bloody bad about this job you cant tell me? And as to have nothing to say; well we’ll see about that.

‘Rosie, reign in your curlers love,’ Travis said shaking his head, ‘believe me this is nothing to do with me, as you will find out as soon as we are alone, and I can tell you. Please love, wait till we’re home, it’s not I don’t want to tell you, I can’t, I physically can’t. Every time I try, you think I’m talking rubbish.’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ she said with contempt, ‘where have I heard that before?’

’Rosie stop it,’he pleaded, ’if you don’t, once I can say I’m the next “halogen light bulb” (Santa Claus) you will feel terrible.’

‘Travis, I’ve just about had it,’ she said looking at him with an expression he knew meant trouble. ‘I’m going home and so are you, and you better have a good story mate cos your life is in danger if you haven’t.’

Once home Travis rushed up the stairs to the bedroom leaving a frustrated and angry Rosie at the bottom of the carpeted flight. He hoped against hope that the day’s events had been nothing more than a nightmare induced by the alcohol from the night before. Alas as he rushed into the bedroom he was astounded to see that where once his wardrobe stood, a door now existed. ‘Oh God,’ he muttered as he sat back on the bed in shock. ‘Rosie,’ he screamed down the stairs, ‘Get up here quick.’

‘Look,’ he said pointing to the new doorway before she could open her mouth .

‘What in the name of God?’ she said crossing herself as the door caught her eye. ‘Where the hell did that come from? Travis what have you been up to, I’m not having that thing stood there, and where’s my wardrobe with all my clothes?’

‘It’s my new job Rosie,’ Travis said near to tears. ‘I didn’t put it there, the fat slob who gave me the job said it would be there when I got home and there it is.’

‘I’ve had enough of you and this bloody job,’ Rosie growled. ‘You better start talking Travis McGee before I hurt you.’

‘You better get the girls in Rosie, it affects them too.’ Travis responded glumly. ‘I don’t know how you’re all going to take this. I’m not too happy about it, I can tell you.’

Rosie looked at him. She was angry and confused but she knew him well enough to know when he was frightened of something and his whole countenance suggested an abject fear of the unknown as he sat on the bed staring at the new door.

‘What is it Mac?’ she asked softly in the voice she reserved for their more intimate moments. ‘Tell me love; I won’t shout honest I won’t. I can see you’re frightened and that’s not like you.’

‘Rosie,’ Travis said looking at her, ‘what I have to say is frankly unbelievable love. I don’t think I could go through it twice so please get our Sue and Bethany in here before I lose my mind altogether.’

Rosie looked at him for a few moments before going on the landing and screaming down the stairs, ‘Sue, Bethany, get up here, now!’ The sound of pounding footsteps followed this command; both girls knew better than to ignore a screamed order from their mother.

‘Your fathers got something to say,’ Rosie explained as the two girls came into the bedroom breathless and concerned. ‘Out with it Travis,’ she said turning towards her husband.

‘Cool,’ Bethany smiled, ‘are you and Mum getting a divorce like Beryl Jones Mum and Dad?’

‘Quiet and let your father speak,’ Rosie snapped giving her daughter a light slap over the head.

‘I’ve got a job,’ Travis said simply, downhearted and miserable.

‘A job?’ Sue said with absolute disbelief. ‘Come on dad, this is us you know, not someone down the pub you’re trying to con a few drinks out of.’

‘I’m serious,’ Travis exploded. ‘What have you got to con out of? I’ve a job and it affects all of us. I don’t want the thing; it’s been forced on me so don’t go weeping and wailing to me when I tell you what it is.’

‘Oh for God’s sake,’ Rosie said exasperatedly. ‘Tell me what the hell you’ve got us into before I brain you.’

‘Hold on to your hats,’ Travis said looking at them each in turn. ‘Because once I tell you it’s going to blow the top of your heads off. Oh and one thing before I tell you, you can’t say a word to anyone outside of this house, and that includes boyfriends. Understood?’

‘Get on with it and stop waffling,’ Rosie exclaimed.

‘I’m the new Santa Claus,’ Travis said simply.

‘Santa Claus!’ Rosie exploded. ‘All this because you’ve got three bloody weeks work in a kids grotto next Christmas. You disgust me Travis McGee.’ She said slapping him over the head a lot harder than she had slapped Bethany. ‘The way you’ve been carrying on anyone would think you’re going to the gallows in the morning.’

‘Yeah dad,’ Sue laughed. ‘Couldn’t you come up with something better than that, no wonder you don’t want us blabbing all over what you do?’

‘Can I go back to Facebook?’ Bethany asked in a disinterested voice.

‘No,’ Travis said angrily. ‘You sit there and shut up,’ he pointed to Bethany. ‘You,’ he turned to Sue, ‘wipe the smile off your face before I knock it off, and you,’ he faced Rosie. ‘It’s nothing to do with a Grotto or a bloody shop; I’m the real deal number one, Santa Claus. Where do you think that door came from Rosie? Open it and as far as know you’re in the North Pole.’

‘For God’s sake Travis,’ Rosie replied. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it’s not going be at my expense. For all I know your Peters been around and is in on the con somewhere, he probably put the door there. Whatever Travis, I’ve had it, come on girls leave your father to his dementia.’ She started to push the girls out of the bedroom. ‘I’ll speak to you later Travis McGee.’

Travis had also had enough. His day had been stressful beyond anyone’s imagination, and now his family was beginning to turn on him. He remembered the Christmas magic, wondered for a millisecond and cast a web of holly and tinsel across the bedroom door preventing anyone from leaving. Rosie and his daughters stopped in their tracks by a barrier of tinsel, turned open-mouthed towards him.

‘If you don’t like the tinsel,’ Travis said with a wicked smile, ‘perhaps a nice tree on the dresser.’ He waved his hand and a beautifully decorated Christmas tree appeared on Rosie’s dressing table, or perhaps in the corner?’ again, another wave of the hand and another tree, just as beautiful but with blue instead of red lights appeared in the corner of the room. ‘Enough Rosie?’ he asked, ‘or shall we see what’s on the other side of the door our Peter is supposed to have built while we’ve been out for a few hours?’

‘Sweet Lord,’ Rosie exclaimed crossing herself once more, her eyes and those of her daughter’s wide with astonishment. ‘Travis, what’s going on?’

‘Cool,’ Bethany smiled as the initial shock wore off. ‘Can I go on Facebook now dad?’

‘No!’ Travis snapped ‘You’ve got some explaining to do my girl. One thing about this Santa thing is I know what you’ve been getting up to behind the bike sheds with Billy what’s his name. You’re only fourteen you little madam, so you just sit there till I’m ready for you.’

‘Dad!’ she exclaimed.

‘Dad nothing,’ Travis said, ‘Sit down and be quiet. As for you girl,’ he turned on Sue. ‘It’s a good job you’re engaged or your feller would be feeling a knuckle sandwich in his kisser. You tell him no means no or he’ll have me to deal with.’

‘Never mind them,’ Rosie shouted. ‘Start explaining Travis, and get rid of these trees, I only hoovered this morning and if any needles go in this carpet, you can pick them up.’

Travis waved his hand and trees, tinsel and fallen needles disappeared to the sound of bells jingling in the distance. ‘There is not a lot to explain Rosie,’ he said quietly, ‘you know as much as me. I went for the interview, sat down and was told the job was mine before I even opened my mouth. I told em I didn’t want the job, but they said it was mine and I had to take it. Believe me love; I’m just as shocked as you, and I never believed them either at first.’

‘When do you start?’ Rosie asked.

‘July, but they want me in for training as soon as possible, no later than June, but I think I’m supposed to stay there one night a week till July,’ he replied. ‘I’m not really sure what happens. I suppose I’ll have to go through that door and find out.’

‘Can I go dad?’ Bethany asked excitedly

‘Only with me or your mother; the door won’t open without us.’ He replied and immediately wondered how he knew that. ‘Same for you Sue.’

‘I feel ashamed.’ Sue said. ‘My dad is Santy Claus. If this gets out, I’ll never live it down.’

‘I never thought of that,’ Rosie said in an almost panic. ‘No one can find out Travis. Imagine your Peter knowing, he’ll flog all the kids presents on Tuebrook Market. You know what a thieving little toe rag he is.’

‘That’s not fair!’ Bethany wailed. ‘I wanna tell me mates on Facebook.’

‘Dad,’ Sue said a worried look on her face. ‘I’ll have to tell Phil, we swore not to keep secrets from each other.’

‘Fair or not,’ Travis replied. ‘The fact is you can’t tell anyone because if you try to open your mouth about it outside of this house, in company or where you can be overheard, you’ll find your mouth glued shut or you’ll start spouting rubbish, ask your Mother what I’ve been like all night. I couldn’t even tell her till we got home.’

‘Well hey dad, how did you make them Christmas trees?’ Bethany asked with a sweet smile. ‘They were brilliant; can I have some in my room?’

‘Christmas magic,’ Travis replied, ‘and no you can’t. Your mother has enough to do without having to dust Christmas trees.’

‘You two go downstairs while I talk to your father,’ Rosie commanded. ‘Put the kettle on while you’re there and make us a cup of tea.’

After several long drawn out protests from her daughters, Rosie eventually found herself alone with Travis. She sat next to him on the bed, both deep in thought.

‘What now Trav?’ Rosie asked

‘I don’t know girl,’ he replied shrugging his shoulders. ‘To be honest, I’ve had enough today, all I want is to go to bed and hope this nightmare is gone by the morning.’

‘You’re not excited at all by this, are you?’ she asked him. Her thoughts on the matter had warmed her to the idea once the initial shock had gone.

‘Rosie,’ he said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. ‘Think about it girl. What idiot would offer a job like this to someone who has never worked in his life before? I don’t like the cold, yet I’m supposed to sleep in the Arctic somewhere. I’m terrified of flying, but they expect me to ride in a stupid sledge pulled by flying reindeer, and you expect me to get excited. God girl, are you insane?’

‘One thing puzzles me Trav,’ she said. ‘I know you, so how did they force you to take the job? I was expecting you to tell me you never got it.’

‘One thing puzzles you,’ he said incredulously. ‘I tell you I’m sodding Santa Claus and only one thing puzzles you. You beggar belief girl. If you must know, if I don’t do the job the magic of Christmas will kill me.’

‘Oh,’ she said with a smile. ‘You mean you can’t get out of it even if you try?’

‘Not unless I want to end up in the bone orchard.’ He snapped, ‘and it’s not funny so wipe the smile off your face.’

‘But it is funny Trav, it’s hysterical even,’ she said with an even bigger smile. ‘The magic of Christmas has turned a lazy, good for nothing drunken sot, into the most famous person in the world. I’m going to enjoy this. It’ll even be worth giving the LIPA job up just so I can see you working for a change.’

‘Oh shut up,’ Travis muttered. A statement that at one time would have thrown Rosie into a raging fury, this time reduced her to a helpless heaving mess as she was convulsed by a fit of hysterical laughter.

‘Keep this up Rosie,’ Travis reacted angrily ‘and you’re off my Christmas card list, I don’t care if you are my wife.’

Rosie’s reaction was to increase the rolling on the bed. She clutched her side as the laughter began to give her a stitch. Her ribs ached, she couldn’t see as her eyes filled with tears as the laughing continued uncontrollably for the next five minutes. Five minutes in which Travis sat stone-faced, miserably watching his wife roll about the bed.

Just as she calmed, he heard a wail from downstairs followed by more laughter from his daughter Sue. Footsteps pounded up the stairs and an angry Bethany barged in.

‘It’s not fair dad, you did it on purpose.’ She stamped her foot on the floor.

‘What?’ Travis asked in resignation.

‘You changed my Facebook page.’

‘Beth, I’ve enough on my plate without worrying about you and bloody Facebook. Just go away and leave me alone with your mother.’

‘Not until you change my Facebook page back!’ she stamped her foot again in outraged indignation, her temper making the blood vessels in her temples, stand out like a road map on the side of her face.

‘Beth, I don’t have a clue what you’re on about and what’s more I’m not interested.’ Travis said, thankful at last Rosie seemed to be calming down. ‘So please, just go downstairs and leave us alone, I’ll look at whatever it is when I come down.’

‘But dad,’ she wailed, ’I typed in My dad is Santa Claus, and it came out as “All my friends are brain dead.” Dad help me, please, because I can’t change it back’

‘Serves you right,’ Travis snapped, ‘for not doing as you were told. I’ll sort it when I come down and not before, and if you don’t go now I’ll leave it there forever.’

‘It’s not fair!’ she wailed, stamping her foot before reluctantly leaving the room.

‘I’ve got to get out of this house,’ Travis rounded on Rosie, ‘you lot are doing my head in.’

Travis stood and marched towards the new doorway. In a foul mood, not thinking about what he was doing, he just grabbed the handle, turned it, pushed the door open, and stepped through the door, stumbling over the edge of a carpet as he did so. Falling through the doorway as the door closed quietly behind him he instinctively flung his arms out to break his fall, his hand brushing against a console table, knocking it over and smashing an intricate cut glass vase, into a hundred pieces. Inwardly cursing he quickly sat up, anger forming a string of expletives that hung unspoken in his mouth as he gazed open-mouthed around him.

A huge four-poster bed filled the centre of one wall. Drapes of red and green adorned the bed, held back by golden ties to show a gold coloured duvet and pillows. A picture window filled the wall opposite the bed. A dressing table was in front of the window while gold curtains framed the bleak, cold, snow-laden landscape outside. On the adjoining wall, an Oak mantled fireplace with a roaring log fire filled the room with a nice warm glow and radiant heat. The other wall contained Rosie’s and his wardrobes, and a quick inspection revealed all his normal clothes hanging where they should be, and a neatly pressed red Santa suit, trimmed with white fur waiting for him to try it on.

He looked up bemused as the door opened again, and Rosie’s face poked through the jam, a look of delight lighting her face as the room’s contents came into view soon turned to misery as she spied the broken glass on the floor. Slowly she pushed the door fully open and carefully stepped through while Travis, not waiting for a withering broadside of abuse over the vase, silently wished he had never broken it, and stood back just as opened mouthed as his wife when the magic he commanded fixed the vase without as much as a crack to show it had ever been broken.

He opened another door opposite the one he had entered by, this time careful not to trip. The other side contained a living room furnished with a modern three-piece suite, a huge 40-inch television, occasional tables, and ornaments on the mantelpiece of another roaring fire. Like the bedroom, a huge picture window almost filled the wall adjoining the one with the fireplace.

Travis stood transfixed not moving even when Rosie came to stand next to him slipping her arm through his. Before either of them could comment or react, a knock came from another door opposite the one they had entered, and without waiting for a summons, the door opened to reveal the small frame of a green haired young Elf girl carrying a tray of hot chocolate and biscuits.

‘I’m sorry Santa,’ she smiled, ‘but the evening meal has long finished. I hope a hot chocolate and biscuits will suffice till the morning?’

‘Erm, yes, thanks,’ Travis stuttered, ‘who’re you?’

‘I’m Sandea,’ she smiled at him and Rosie as she placed the tray on a small table. ‘I look after your rooms, and serve your meals when you’re in residence.’

‘Well Sandea,’ Travis managed a smile in return. ‘Thanks for the hot chocolate, but how did you know we were here?’

‘The red Christmas lights change to green when you’re home.’ She smiled sweetly ‘If you need anything, at any time of the day, or night, give the cord by the fire a tug and either I or another Elf will come to you.’ She gave a quick curtsy and with a smile as big as the Mersey Tunnel, she left Travis and Rosie looking at each other in complete and utter disbelieving bewilderment.

‘You don’t half get us into some scrapes Travis,’ Rosie said when Sandea had closed the door, ‘but this has got to take the cake.’

‘I know,’ Travis replied impatiently ‘Don’t start going on about it. It’s your fault anyway, you told me to get a job, remember?’

‘I think it’s great,’ Rosie smiled at him. ‘Pity I can’t tell anyone. I’d love to see the look on Mrs Baldwin’s face if she knew. That old cow has given me grief for years about you being a worthless piece of work; she’s always looked down her nose at me.’

‘Is that all you can think about?’ Travis snapped. ‘Here’s me stuck with a stupid job and all you can think about is the silly cow down the road. Well, thank you for being so sympathetic.’

‘Behave Travis,’ Rosie smiled. ‘Anyone would think you had to wash the dishes. Besides, think about it, we could be on easy street. A Servant for a start; I know you’re used to being waited on hand a foot, but I’m not. I usually do the waiting. This is going be a nice change for me, and you my man, are not going to mess it up.’

‘Rosie,’ Travis began to wail.

‘Rosie nothing,’ she snapped. ‘From what you say you’re stuck with it, so the best thing is just shrug your shoulders and get on with it. Seems I’m here to help, and the girls can help as well. Don’t worry love,’ her voice softened, ‘I know you’re frightened, but it’ll all be OK. I promise. Drink your chocolate and then we’ll go home and make sure the girls are behaving themselves. We can come back here tomorrow and get everything sorted.’

Unconvinced by her words, but unable to counter her arguments, Travis sat quietly bemoaning to himself the injustice of it all. Suddenly a frightening prospect came to mind, one he hadn’t until then considered.

Oh my God,’ he whispered, and looked at Rosie with fear and dread written all over his face.

‘What?’ She said, alarmed at his face and tone of voice. ‘What’s wrong now?’

‘I’m going to have to sign off the sick,’ He said wide-eyed, ‘What are we going to do? I’ll be the laughing stock of the pub.’

‘Not really,’ she sighed, realising he was being dramatic again. ‘You can’t tell anyone, can you? So how are you going to tell the Social you’re Santa Claus?’

‘I can tell them I’m working,’ he moaned quietly, ‘just not what I’m doing, and I’m going to have to tell them Rosie, if I don’t I can see the headlines now if the papers got hold of this, and with my luck, they’re bound to. I can see the daily rag’s screaming headline, “Scouse Santa on the Pat and Mick”.’

‘Oh,’ Rosie said, more concerned at the loss of revenue his signing off would mean. ‘What does the Santa job pay Trav?’

‘Dunno,’ he mumbled, ‘With the shock and all, I never asked.’

‘You daft crate egg,’ she snapped heatedly at him. ‘Anyone with an ounce of the Grey stuff would’ve asked that right off.’

‘Give it over Rosie,’ Travis snapped back, ‘and stop blowing hot n cold. You’re all Lovey dovey one minute, the next your taking my head off. Drink your chocolate and let’s get out of here, I want a night’s sleep and come morning, hopefully, this will all have been a bad dream.’

‘Don’t bet on it,’ she smiled standing, ’but the night’s sleep sounds a good idea. I need to think, and I can’t do that with you under my feet moaning all the time.

By the time, he woke the next morning Rosie was already up and about. Travis turned slowly over in bed wondering about the strange dream he had just had and was immediately mortified when opening his eyes, he gazed on the new doorway that had so miraculously appeared the day before. With an inward groan, he sat up and began to get dressed. Downstairs he heard the sound of Bethany running about happily singing “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,” at the top her voice in a brilliant out of tune rendition, honed and perfected by years of being tone deaf. He gave another heartfelt, inward groan and went downstairs.

His first shock of the day came when he entered the kitchen. Sitting down and tucking into a breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, tomatoes, black pudding and half a loaf of toast, was Santa John, the Chief Elf and the green haired secretary who all looked up at him from their morning feast, a quizzical expression on their faces.

‘What are you three doing here?’ he groaned.

‘They’ve been here all night dad,’ Sue said, noisily plonking another plate of buttered toast on the table. ‘They slept on the chairs in the front room. He,’ she pointed to Santa John, ‘Said it’d be OK with you, he said you knew him and the other feller there said you was his boss.’

‘We’re sorry,’ the secretary smiled at him, ‘but forgot to ask you to give Santa John some magic back to get us home. We had nowhere to stay and it’s freezing out there.’

‘It’s OK,’ Travis said with resignation, ‘finish your breakfast. I erm, presume you can use the door upstairs to go home?’

‘Only if you give one of us some magic so we can open it,’ the secretary replied. ‘Just think about it and it will happen,’ she hastily added as she saw the look of perplexity on Travis’s face.

‘Thought and done,’ he said as Bethany came skipping through the kitchen singing Jingle Bells in her toneless voice. ‘Sue, where’s your mother? And Bethany if you don’t stop that God almighty racket, I’ll make jingle bells grow out of your head.’

‘She’s gone shopping dad, said something about getting a new handbag to match her new outfit,’ Sue replied as Bethany left the kitchen glaring at her father.

Travis sat down in the one vacant chair around the table, Santa John and the two Elves busily munching on toast ignored him.

‘OK,’ he said fixing the Chief Elf with a long hard stare. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m stuck with this job, so on your head be it if I mess things up. For now, I need answers. I need to know what I have to do and how to do it. I’ve got some things here to see to, but once they’re finished with I’ll come back to where that door leads, so you lot are going to start answering me, is that understood?’

‘Of course, Santa,’ the secretary replied. ‘All of us at home in the Village are there to serve you and to make sure Christmas is a success. Whatever you need you either ask for or conjure up, we’re all here to help.’

‘Good.’ Travis said, ‘The first thing we’re going to do is move our base of operations from the Village as you call it, here to Liverpool.’ He watched with pleasure, as the Chief Elf who clearly had no trouble in understanding him this time, nearly choked on a piece of toast as Travis made his sweeping statement. ‘And the first thing to go is that door in my bedroom; with the set-up moved here I can get the bus to work.’

‘But why?’ The Chief Elf managed to splutter through his choking fit.

‘Listen mate,’ Travis said forcibly, ‘Me and Rosie went through that door last night, we ended up in a bedroom painted green and red. Well I don’t know about you, but I’m not sleeping there, the place will give me nightmares. Besides, there are no pubs, Rosie hasn’t got her bingo and you can’t even open a window for fresh air, I tried last night and they’re all nailed shut.’

‘Travis,’ Santa John smiled at him. ‘The décor in your rooms can be changed at any time, to any colour you want by you just simply thinking about it, and the windows don’t open because at times it’s nearly minus 50 degrees outside. Erm, a bit more bad news I’m afraid,’ Santa John squirmed in his chair. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to find that alcohol has no effect on you, and from now on, I doubt you will be able to drink anything alcoholic, except maybe a glass of wine with your dinner, if you do, any consumption of it will only lead to you feeling very, very ill.’

‘Oh great,’ Travis stormed, ‘this job gets better by the minute. Any more good news while I’m in the mood for it?’

‘Well,’ Santa John replied slowly, ‘As Santa, you will have to set an example to children all over the world. You can’t drink, smoke or take drugs and you can’t gamble.’

‘What about my horses?’ Travis asked, fear, real fear of losing his only source of income he didn’t have to disclose to anyone sent his mind into an uncontrolled panic.

‘Sorry Travis,’ Santa John replied. ‘All forms of gambling are forbidden, the lottery, football pools, horse betting; everything I’m afraid, even Mrs C’s bingo. If you or your family, those who know you’re Santa, try to drink, smoke or gamble, the Christmas magic will stop you.’

‘This is a right pig in the poke I’ve been sold isn’t it?’ Travis stormed. ‘For God’s sake criminals get better looked after than me, and I’m supposed to be Santa Claus.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ the Chief Elf said stonily now his composure had returned. ‘I do know however, that moving your base of operations here is not a possibility that you can consider. The rules concerning the magic of Christmas are quite clear. To maintain the magic in the months leading up to Christmas, you have to spend at least twelve hours a day in the Village for the magic to recharge. If it can’t recharge, you end up dead as we advised you yesterday.’

‘There are times,’ Travis said quietly looking at the Elf. ‘I could willingly strangle someone, and if you tell me the Christmas magic will stop me, then you mate will be first to find out if what you say is true.’

‘Ha,’ the Chief laughed. ‘Like all Elves I am immortal. You can’t strangle me because I can’t die.’

‘Don’t push it Chiefy, you never know I might just get a kick out of finding out if you can die or not!’ Travis growled.