Still half asleep he glanced at the television displaying the test card, and emitting a familiar drone of nothingness. Must have dozed off, all that Christmas sherry he thought to himself. Rubbing his eyes again, he turned his head towards the chimney. This time it registered. Instantly he was awake and alert; his heart beating faster. He quietly eased himself out of the armchair, watching as inch-by-inch the figure lowered himself towards the ground, dressed head to toe in a soot-tinged red Santa Claus outfit. Steve gasped at the sight, and instinctively crouched behind the sofa, hiding, waiting to pounce like a cat at a mouse hole. As the person wriggled free from the fireplace and stood up, he became aware that the Santa Claus was actually a woman with long blonde hair. He stood up and switched on the light. The girl jumped. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she cried. ‘You startled me.’
‘I startled you?’
‘I come bearing gifts.’ She smiled, opened her scarlet jacket to reveal only a low cut black silk bra, supporting an ample bust. She danced a jig singing, ‘Santa Claus is here today, to serve her master in every way.’
Steve gawped. ‘Serve her master?’
‘It’s corny, I know, it’s our trademark greeting… That is, along with our trademark entrance…’ The girl shrugged her shoulders. ‘You’re Steve, right?’
Steve nodded.
‘Good, for a moment I thought …Well, I’m your Christmas treat, courtesy of the regulars at the Admiral Nelson. Striptease that is… That’s all. Understand?’
Steve nodded, wondering what he would tell his wife if she ever found out. The pad of footsteps on creaking floorboards above interrupted his thoughts.
A voice echoed down the stairs. ‘Who are you talking to?’
‘It’s just the television.’
‘Turn it off, and come to bed. It’s late.’
‘I’ve just got to put out the cat.’
‘Cat? We don’t have a cat?’
Steve stammered slightly, ‘I mean shake the mat. I’ve spilled some…’
‘Crumbs…’ the girl whispered.
‘Oh, crumbs.’
‘Well don’t take all day. And don’t vacuum. It’s late.’
‘No, dear.’ Steve listened until there was silence upstairs, before daring to speak again. ‘You mentioned the Admiral Nelson. That’s a pub I take it?’ ‘You haven’t heard of it? You are Steve Chambers, 14 Highfield Close.’
‘No, I’m Steve Jackson, 18 Highfield Close.’ ‘Whoops! Wrong house. Silly me. It’s difficult reading house numbers at night.’
‘I’m sure.’
I can still do the striptease… It’s in our Secret Santa contract… Promotes good customer relations…’ ‘Yes, please.’
Above him, the bedroom floorboard thudded twice. ‘Steve!’ ‘On second thoughts …’ |
