Page 84 of Cooking Up a Christmas Storm
‘What I need is for the lights switch-on to go without a hitch.’ Fiona nodded sharply. ‘John has very high standards, you know. It’s very motivating, isn’t it?’
Motivating wasn’t the word Jodie would have chosen.
The schedule for the afternoon was packed. Father Christmas – a top Father Christmas, according to Fiona, who used to do Jenners in Edinburgh, before it closed – would be in his grotto supported by his faithful elves from noon, and then the grotto would close at four p.m. and everyone would gather around the Christmas tree to see Jay from Redd Level sing a festive medley and then press the button to start the lights. Then there would be fireworks to close the event.
Jodie changed into her elf suit in Fiona’s office, turning in front of the window to try to check her reflection in the outfit. She half-laughed to herself as she realised it was yet another costume. Jodie pretending to be Gemma was now Jodie pretending to be Gemma pretending to be Jodie pretending to be an elf. It sounded every bit as ridiculous as she looked.
Once she was dressed, Fiona ran through the schedule with Jodie for the seventieth time. ‘And don’t let Saira bother Jay from Redd Level. She’s got a tour T-shirt from about nineteen ninety-eight under her desk. I know she’s going to ask him to sign it.’
Jodie frowned. ‘Saira’s only about twenty.’
Fiona shook her head gloomily. ‘I think it’s for her mum.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Right, you two better go and get ready. Father Christmas is already down there. And remember only one present per child, and match the colour of the wrapping to the token the parent gives you. That tells you whether they’ve paid for the gold or platinum packages.’
‘Not whether the kid’s been naughty or nice?’ Jodie joked.
‘If Daddy paid for platinum the kid can be a total shit. They still get the good present.’
Wow. Capitalism had really taken hold at the North Pole.
The grotto had been set up in the small conference room, which had been vigorously transformed by Fiona’s team of interior visualisation experts. Jodie couldn’t help but wonder what the Lowbridge equivalent would be. Probably her and Flinty balancing on a ladder enthusiastically stapling bits of ivy to anything that stayed still long enough. The McKenzie approach was different. The conference centre, right from the entrance, had been transformed. Visitors were enveloped in a snow-covered wonderland. There were miniature village scenes set up along the walls, with figures skiing, drinking glühwein and roasting chestnuts.
In the grotto itself, Santa was seated on a red-and-gold throne, next to a perfectly trimmed and lit Christmas tree, surrounded by sacks of beautifully wrapped gifts. And then children and their families left via a larger room where there was a full train set displayed as the train to the Pole, and stalls where parents could be pressured into spending more money on sweets and treats for their little darlings.
Christmas at the McKenzie estate was a well-oiled money-making machine. The first few kids were exactly as Jodie would have imagined. Variously adorable, enthusiastic, shy and overtired. Santa, showing his fancy big-city experience, was charming and avuncular with them all. Saira showed the children in, and Jodie handed Santa the appropriate gift and showed the little darlings and their mummies and daddies out again, with a clear direction to the stall where they could purchase their souvenir image of their little prince or princess sitting on Santa’s knee.
After an hour or so, the routine changed and the next group was shown in by Fiona herself. She smiled at the little girl and pointed her towards Santa before grasping Jodie by the elbow and pulling her out of mum’s earshot. ‘Local competition winners,’ she hissed. ‘John will expect them to get the cheapest present.’ Fiona looked down at her shoes. ‘I did ask if… never mind.’
Jodie nodded and waited until Fiona had stepped out. The little girl was regaling Santa with a long story about how she had been going to ask for a pony but a lady from Americaland who lived in a princess castle had said she could have rides on her pony so now she didn’t need to ask for one of her own. Jodie bit back a smile of recognition. Darcy would have all the village children riding at Lowbridge if she could.
Santa nodded gravely and agreed that ponies were a lot of work to look after and that probably staying at the princess castle would be the best option for them. ‘I’m sure we do have a present for you today though. Shall we see what my lovely elf has got for you?’
The presents for those children whose parents – horror of horrors – had only paid the basic entry fee were in red wrapping. Then there was a gold level and a platinum level. They’d only had one platinum customer so far, and there was a platinum gift right on the top of the pile. Who was to say Jodie hadn’t made a little mistake?
She picked up the silver-and-blue-wrapped gift and handed it to Santa. She was sure she saw him smile slightly. ‘Here you go, Betty.’ He looked up at mum. ‘And I hope you both have a very Happy Christmas. Before you go, why don’t you take a quick pic of Betty with Santa on your phone?’
Jodie saw mum glance at theNo Photographysign above Santa’s head. ‘It’s fine. It’s his grotto, his rules,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’
Jodie caught Father Christmas’ eye again as she closed the door behind Betty and her mum. ‘Do you know how much those platinum tickets cost?’
Jodie shook her head.
‘Eight hundred quid.’
‘What?’
‘I think we just gave Betty an Xbox.’
Jodie shook her head. ‘I thought it would be like thirty quid or something. Who pays that much to take their kid to see Santa?’
He shrugged. ‘Mostly people who already have an Xbox I should think. She’ll appreciate it more.’
‘I am going to get fired.’
‘Blame me if they try. I only still do this for the fun of seeing the little ones happy.’
Jodie paused. ‘Are you doing anything tomorrow, Father Christmas?’
