Page 39 of Five Gold Rings

‘That’s not important. The Piper wedding. You were supposed to officiate it, yes?’

‘I thought that the wedding was called off…’

I beam. ‘It’s on. The wedding is on. Can you come back?’

‘It is? Really? Last thing I saw was an ambulance. Someone told me the father of the bride had died.’

‘He didn’t. He was chasing the best man and fell and broke an ankle.’ Santa gives me a look like he doesn’t quite know whether to believe me. ‘We’re trying to salvage something out of this shitshow of a day. Please. Help us save this wedding,’ I plead, my hands in a prayer position.

‘I’ll still get a free meal, right?’ he asks. I applaud the fact that Santa is in this for the free food.

‘There’s two hundred and fifty portions of turkey going spare. You could probably invite your whole family down.’

‘And they will pay for my parking?’

‘Yes,’ I say hesitantly.

‘Then let’s get back in,’ he says, still confused. ‘Are you from the hotel?’

‘No, I’m Eve. Nice to meet you, Santa. You’re very convincing, by the way,’ I tell him, as we U-turn back towards the hotel, the crisp night air making me rub my hands up and down over my arms. He has proper black boots for a start. I feel that too many Santas forget about the footwear needed for chimneys.

‘Well, maybe I’m the real thing,’ he jokes. I’d believe that more if he wasn’t holding a Nike holdall instead of a sack. ‘It’s important to uphold the magic of the season. Too many little eyes are watching. I’m a professional…’

‘I have no doubt. How’s your ho-ho-ho?’

We walk into the hotel lobby, and he bellows into that space with both convincing volume and depth of tone, so much so that a group of kids turn around in wonder.

‘That is impressive.’

'I try, my dear.’

I lead him over to the lifts where Melvin, the bellboy, waits there for us, beckoning us towards him.

‘Thank you, Melvin. Melvin, this is Santa. I don’t know if you know each other.’ Both of the older gentlemen fist bump each other and I grin as he presses the buttons and the lift doors close. ‘Oh, we’re mates. How’s it hanging, Santa?’

‘Slightly to the left these days,’ he jokes, and we all stand there laughing and trying not to think about Santa’s penis.

‘I see you’ve met the lovely Eve,’ Melvin tells Santa. ‘Make sure this one is on your good list. She’s done a good thing today.’

‘Really? That’s lovely to hear. Is there anything in particular you want for Christmas?’ Santa asks me. I sigh inwardly, not really knowing how to answer. I’m not sure I know anymore. I wouldn’t say no to a car. But in all seriousness, eighteen hours ago, I thought I had everything I wanted, a man I thought I was going to be with forever, at least. My life was mapped out on a very different course, one I had faith in, that I thought was for me, but how life can change in a finger snap. Now, I’m in a posh London hotel, I’ve run around this place for the last hour trying to save something that isn’t even my own to make me believe in hope again, in magic. What do I want? The doors suddenly open and Joe stands there. He grins.

‘YOU FOUND SANTA!’ he says, a little too excitedly, and jumps up and down, hugging the big man in red.

‘You’re not the groom,’ Santa says, confused.

‘No, I’m the new best man apparently,’ Joe says. ‘But the groom is waiting for you when you’re ready.’

We step out of the lift and I look around at this rooftop garden, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Joe, what have you done?’ I gasp. It seems while I was beautifying the bride, helping her get in her dress and chasing Santa down the street, Joe and Mike became best mates and found an alternative venue for their wedding celebration, all in the same hotel on a rooftop terrace overlooking the London skyline but without the tinsel, giant candy canes and not a Christmas bird in sight.

Joe looks very proud of his work as he leads me round and points out the décor. ‘The fairy lights were here but I went downstairs and got the trellis arch, some storm vases and flowers and candles and jazzed the place up. Check this out…’

He brings me over to stand under the trellis and then presses a button on a remote control. Snow suddenly appears, out of nowhere, falling on us gently and resting on his hair. I pick it out with my fingers, looking up to the sky in wonder.

‘You did all of this?’ I ask him.

‘I felt invested in the project. Like some sort of supermarket sweep game show running around the hotel, getting it sorted. But I think you forget, I have three older sisters… I also know how a wedding should look.’

‘Well, you nailed it,’ I say, high-fiving him.

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