The Silver Bells Christmas Pantomime: The perfect feel-good Christmas romance!. Lynsey James

suspicions were proved correct when Gary appeared and bellowed ‘ALICE, MY OFFICE NOW!’

      *

      It didn’t take long for the shit to hit the fan. I sat in the manager’s office, while Gary paced up and down like a bear with a sore head.

      ‘How the hell did this happen?!’ He pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at me. ‘I’ve had no less than twenty complaints from parents whose kids received what they called “inappropriate gifts”! Instead of selection boxes and packs of felt-tip pens, they got fluffy handcuffs, edible knickers and bottles of vodka! Do you have any idea how that makes us look?!’

      I stifled a chuckle. Although Gary couldn’t see the funny side of it, there was something quite amusing about the whole mix-up.

      ‘To be fair, the boxes of presents weren’t labelled,’ I explained. ‘How was I supposed to know I’d picked up the sales girls’ Secret Santa box?’

      The vein in Gary’s forehead grew larger and looked like it would pop any minute. He strode over to where I was sitting, his mouth set into a stern line and his eyes ablaze with anger.

      ‘We’re supposed to be a family-friendly store, Alice. I don’t think giving kids mini bottles of alcopop really gives the right impression, do you?’

      A rogue giggle escaped from my mouth; from the look on his face, I thought Gary might spontaneously combust.

      ‘I’m sorry, really I am.’ Once I was sure I wouldn’t laugh again, I peeked up at him, daring to meet his gaze. ‘You have to admit, it was a little bit funny though. And we can give them replacement presents from the real box of gifts can’t we?’

      Gary folded his arms and began pacing back and forth again. ‘It’s not quite as simple as that, I’m afraid. We were thinking of closing the grotto early anyway. The store isn’t making much money at the moment and we haven’t had the footfall we expected, but this screw-up was the final nail in the coffin…’

      I winced at the word “coffin”, but tried not to show it. Even that simple word conjured up hundreds of memories I’d do anything to forget.

      ‘I’m sorry, Alice… I’m afraid you’re out of a job.’

      My head snapped up and I felt my jaw drop. ‘Gary, please… I-I need this job! I know it’s only temporary, but I’ll be stuck without it. Is there any way I can stay? I-I’ll stack shelves, clean the toilets, anything!’

      He shook his head gravely and ran a hand over his tired face. ‘I’m afraid not; we’re struggling to afford our Christmas temps as it is, so we’re looking to make any savings we can. Besides, I don’t think this was ever really your cup of tea was it? I mean, you were on bloody Broadway! I can’t imagine you found being a department store elf very exciting.’

      I opened my mouth to disagree, but even I wasn’t that good of an actress. Instead, I sighed and got up from my seat; it was time for me to leave. Alice, exit stage right.

      ‘Thanks for the opportunity, Gary. And for the record, being an elf here was more than exciting,’ I added with a little chuckle.

      He managed a smile as he escorted me down the stairs to the shop floor.

      ‘You never know,’ he said, ‘this could be a blessing in disguise; you could be lighting up the West End this time next month!’

      ‘I don’t think so…but thank you.’

      I smiled and turned my back as I prepared to leave Fox’s department store for the final time. My shoes jingled and attracted everyone’s attention as I crossed the floor. I probably looked absolutely ridiculous, but I didn’t really care. As I took in the store’s various sights and smells and the beautiful items that lined its shelves, my heart sank. Although being an elf had been the job from hell, I would be really sad to not have a reason to visit Fox’s every day.

      I was so engrossed in looking around my now former workplace that I didn’t notice someone coming through the revolving doors. With just a split second to spare, I managed to avoid a full-on collision by swerving out of the way. The man heading towards me was too distracted to notice; his phone was wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he hissed replies to whoever was on the other end. As he passed me, his shoulder bumped mine, knocking my bag to the floor.

      ‘Hey!’ I yelled, hoping to draw his attention to the fact he’d just bumped into me without saying sorry.

      All I got for my trouble was a vague wave in my direction as he continued his argument and made his way towards the back of the store. My gaze followed his bottle-green tartan jacket and russet-brown hair until he disappeared from view. I hoped the person he was on the phone to was giving him hell.

      Outside the store, I found Frank sitting in his stained and grubby Santa costume, minus his beard. His eyes were firmly fixed to the pavement and he was taking swigs from a bottle of whisky while picking at his once-white fluffy cuffs.

      ‘You too eh?’ He grunted out a hollow chuckle and patted the pavement next to him. ‘There’s room for a little’un if you fancy joining me?’

      I paused for a second, unsure of what to do. The way I saw it, I had two choices: I could keep walking and stay in the little bubble of loneliness I’d carefully crafted over the last three years, or I could take a minute to talk to someone who was just as down on his luck as I was.

      I chose the latter and crouched down next to Frank, who was just finishing off the remainder of his whisky.

      ‘Yup,’ I replied, ‘me too. Gary said the store isn’t making enough money or getting enough customers, so they were thinking of closing the grotto early anyway. I don’t think seeing little kids running round with pairs of edible knickers helped though!’

      Frank let out a throaty laugh that was closely followed by a wheezing cough. He picked up his bottle, remembered he didn’t have any more and discarded it with a disappointed sigh.

      ‘Nope, probably not. Having a Santa who’s either drunk or hung-over probably didn’t create a very good impression either,’ he said with a sad smile. ‘So what’s next for you? We worked together for two whole weeks and I don’t think we even said two words to each other.’

      I blushed as I realised I hadn’t been the most forthcoming of people to work with. I had my reasons, of course, but Frank wasn’t to know that.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I tend to keep myself to myself these days. The last few years have been… Well they haven’t been easy. I’m not really sure what’s next for me. What about you?’

      ‘Back to doing what I was doing before, probably. Sitting in my flat with my best friends Jack and Daniels, passing the time away. What a life eh? Can’t you go back to what you were doing before?’

      Lying in bed crying because I lost the man I love and life is shit without him? Yup, sounds good to me.

      ‘Not really,’ I admitted, ‘I don’t really want to go back to that.’

      He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled. ‘You’ll find your way; people like you always do. It’s people like me who tend to slip through the cracks…’ He trailed off, as though he was lost in his own thoughts. ‘My own fault though. Anyway, you don’t want to be wasting your time talking to an old drunk like me. Go on, off you go.’

      He waved a dismissive hand and picked up his empty whisky bottle again. Reluctantly, I took it as my cue to leave; I didn’t want Frank to be alone, but he’d made it clear he was happy with his own company.

      ‘Have a good Christmas,’ I said as I walked away. He raised his bottle in reply before pulling himself to his feet and stumbling off in the opposite direction.

      I sighed as I watched him go; it seemed like the most wonderful time of the year was steadily growing worse.

      Frank’s question stayed with me as I trudged