Page 48 of North Bound

‘How... you got my letter? You read it? Really? You?’

‘Of course. I get every letter that’s written to me. And I came to visit you that year.’

8

Nick gives her a fewminutes to get her head around what he just said, before he speaks again. He wasn’t sure about telling her that he remembers her from all those years ago, but he’s being honest about his role, and this is part of it. Holding back at this stage is a waste of time. He’d prefer she knows as much as she can about him, and what he does.

Okay, so maybe some of the demon hunting part of his job can be kept from her for another while. No need to put that dark cloud on everything for her yet.

‘But how do you remember that? Remember me?’

‘You’d just lost your parents. You asked me for what a lot of kids ask for. You wanted your parents back.’ He looks away from her, focusing on the fire again. ‘I hold on to all those letters. It keeps me grounded, if that makes sense. People get so carried away with the expensive gifts and the fancy food, but others just want loved ones back, or even a basic meal. They don’t care about all the expense or greed, that goes hand in hand with Christmas.’

When Nick looks at her, he could swear she’s holding back tears. ‘My daughter and wife were killed in a car crash on Christmas Eve. They were killed on the same road your parents were killed on.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘I was meant to finish work early so I could take them to a Christmas concert at the school. But I got tied up, so I contacted my wife and told her I’d be late, and I’d meet them there. They didn’t make it.’

‘I’m so sorry Nick. I’m sorry.’

He nods as he focuses on the fire. It’s his fault they died. Entirely his fault. If he’d left work when he said he was going to, if he’d kept his promise to them, they wouldn’t have been involved in the car crash. The guilt just loaded onto the unbearable loss, driving him to drink, then drugs, bankruptcy, and homelessness.

He didn’t want to live, but was too much of a coward to do anything about it. Instead he went for the slow, pathetic, painful route. He’s just lucky the old Santa found him when he did.

‘Yeah. Me too. That’s why this Santa gig seemed like a good idea. Gave me something to do, that didn’t involve slowly killing myself too. I can’t bring people back from the dead, Scarlett, as much as I want to.’ And he would give anything for that not to be true - for himself and for everyone else who has asked him. ‘I couldn’t give you back your parents. I wanted to, believe me, but that’s way beyond even my magic.’

‘Thank you.’

He frowns as he looks at her again. ‘For what?’

‘For reading the letter. Leaving aside this bizarre situation, knowing that Santa... that you read my letter, it’s comforting in a way. I can’t explain it. I think just knowing that you received it, that you receive all the letters kids send you, it’s... yeah, it’s really comforting. Thank you.’

‘I couldn’t help you though. I guess that’s the hardest part of what I do. I can’t make everyone happy as much as I want to.’

‘Of course you can’t, Nick. No one expects you to.’

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