Episode 19 of You Sleigh Me: A Christmas Mystery.
Christmas Eve at Marley’s Department Store – and it looked set to be a bumper year.
The aisles were thronged with eager shoppers, staff scurried around with trays full of mince pies and glasses of mulled wine – there was even a troupe of carol singers under the splendidly resurrected Christmas tree. The cash registers rang like sleigh bells. I could imagine Marley up there in his office, rubbing his palms with glee.
As for me, I was back in my Santa rig – but my dialogue with the kiddies was a little different than before. “Sit down on Santa’s knee, Courtney,” I would say, “and I’ll tell you the real story of Santa Claus. Did you know, for instance, that he was born in Asia Minor?”
Of course, I left out the bit about the execution and the torture – even though kids love that stuff. But I had promised Saint Nick I’d tell the truth to as many people as possible, and that’s what I was going to do.
I had left the best part until mid-afternoon, when Marley’s was full to bursting. To make the most of it, I left the grotto and wandered into the centre of the store.
Suddenly, a voice came over the airwaves: a voice that in normal circumstances provoked thoughts that could send you straight to hell. But today it was a voice from heaven – the voice of an angel. The voice, in other words, of Carole.
“Good afternoon moms and dads, boys and girls. Today, as you know, is a very special day. And that’s why you are lucky to find yourselves in Marley’s Department Store. Because this building has a unique history – one that takes us straight back to the origins of Santa Claus himself. And through him, to the origins of Christmas. So stop your shopping for a moment – and listen to the true story of Saint Nicholas.”
How could anyone resist? For 25 whole minutes, the entire department store fell silent, apart from the mellifluous voice of Carole, as she repeated the story that I had told her on the phone in the early hours of that morning. When she had finished, they burst into spontaneous applause.
I looked up, my eye scanning the mezzanine gallery above the sales floor. And there was old Jack Marley, beaming down at the crowd and clapping with the best of them. I can’t be sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a tear in his eye.
Something flickered at the corner of my vision. I switched my gaze slightly to the left, just in time to catch a silver-grey figure fading into the background, a slender hand raised in benediction.
But there was still one person left to thank.
To be continued...
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