Page 78 of Big Nick Energy
‘That’s a very good Santa outfit, mate. I used to have an elf one,’ he says to Nick.
‘Did you used to dress up for the kids too?’ he asks.
‘Oh no, it was a different sort of gig,’ he says, blushing. ‘So the Callaghans say you’re giving out books, and Santa is doing a reading?’ Joe enquires, and I nod. ‘Then you’re in the right place, come with me.’ He escorts us down a corridor and I notice a pin of five gold rings attached to his lanyard.
‘Like the song,’ I say, pointing.
‘Kind of, a gift from the wife. So are you two colleagues or…?’
Nick and I look at each other. ‘Well, I’m from the library service and Nick is from…’
‘The North Pole,’ he says.
‘Gotcha. How long have you been together?’ he asks. Nick looks down at the floor at that point while I feel my cheeks start to burn.
‘Oh, shit. Sorry. It’s just…’ He hesitates, but I nod so he’ll fill me in about his little observation. ‘You finished each other’s sentence.’
Nick side-eyes me whilst I try and pretend I didn’t hear any of that at all. ‘We’re friends.’ He looks at both of us oddly and grins. ‘Why are you smiling?’ I ask.
‘I just know this story, I’ve lived this story. Come on through.’ Cryptic Joe flashes his lanyard at the door and we walk through to the brightly painted children’s ward where the decorations are more cartoon reindeer and giant snowmen stuck to the walls. In the background, I can hear a child crying, the gentle beep ofmachines. I lied before, this shit is sobering. ‘You’re going to be in the lounge. Follow me.’ I can see from the worried look on Nick’s face too that this is a lot to take on, they’re so little. We walk past cubicles where kids lie in their beds, wires sticking out of them, hear big hacking coughs and see stressed parents curled up next to them. ‘Wait here and I’ll let the Ward Sister know you’re here.’
Joe leaves us in a corner of the corridor where Nick stands close to me, his eyes searching around the place. ‘Can I give you some advice?’ I say.
‘Yeah?’
‘The ho-ho-ho-ing. Yours is still very uneven.’
‘Uneven?’ he asks. ‘Why are you telling me this now?’
‘I don’t know. It feels like the stakes are higher here,’ I explain. ‘Try it more from the diaphragm, from deep inside your gut.’ I punch him slightly when I say this and he looks at me, smiling.
‘You’re trying to distract us because this is tough, yeah?’ he says.
‘There was me thinking we were just giving out books. Some of them are teeny tiny, Nick,’ I say, concern etched in my face.
‘I guess they’re in the right place then if they’re poorly.’
‘But it’s three days before Christmas.’
He takes my hand and squeezes it tightly. ‘This is a friend grab by the way, to calm you.’ I squeeze his hand back, not looking him in the face but feeling his fingers wrapped around mine.
Joe returns, smiling as he clocks our hands linked, winking at me.I find you a little presumptuous, Joe.‘It’s through here, guys. Thanks again for being here.’
We walk through to another room, full of sofas and classroom tables, televisions and video game consoles. Again, the primary colours are strong but the Christmas decorationsseem to have been crafted and drawn by the children. In one section of the room, a group of about seven children sit there waiting. They’re all in a mix of hospital gowns and pyjamas. Some with IVs, one in a wheelchair wrapped in a dressing gown. I try to smile, I have to smile becauselook at all of you.
‘Ho-ho-ho,’ a voice bellows through the room, and I laugh because I think that punch to the stomach may have actually worked. I look up at Nick as he heads over to the children who all gaze at him with the same fascination and confusion as all the others.We really need to get you some padding and a better beard.Nick goes over to a seat laid out for him and one boy instantly takes a liking to him, hugging his knee, big hazel eyes looking up. Nick grins at him and puts a hand on his head. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Alfie.’
I guess this isn’t the same as the adult ward, it’s not a time to ask these kids what they have and get them to relay all the details, because we’re here to distract from that, to give them a little piece of hope, escapism.
‘I’ve heard about you, Alfie,’ Nick says.
‘Really?’ the little boy says.
‘Bravest and kindest boy there is – that’s what the elves tell me,’ Nick says. I can’t cry. That would be bloody awful. Another little girl goes up with a toy dog and rests it on his other knee. ‘And who is this?’
‘Cookie,’ she says excitedly.
