Bad Santa Read online

  “I hope Robbie gets out.”

  “Me too,” Paul says. “See you later.”

  *

  Provided we don’t get called out, Christmas dinner at the station is much better than it sounds. Between us we manage to make a good meal, and it’s always a laugh.

  But most of the crew go home to someone after the shift ends. So when Doug, one of the older guys on the crew, finds out I’m going to be home alone this year, just like the movie, he says, “I’ll be calling in on my sister Susan after our shift on the big day if you want to come along. She’s invited a whole bunch of people to a Christmas day party and according to her, the more the merrier.”

  “I can’t just turn up.”

  “I’ll get her to call you. We won’t have to eat too much at the station because she’s a great cook. Fancies herself as Nigella catering for five thousand. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to go along.”

  I don’t expect to hear anything, but Susan sounds like she really wants me there when she calls, so how can I refuse? “Doug said you played Santa. Pity you don’t still have your outfit,” she says. “You could have given out the gifts at the party. Mind you, Kieran wouldn’t like that. He’s had the starring role doing that since he was knee high to a reindeer.”

  I turn up on the day, laden with flowers for the hostess and a few things the family can share. Doug often talks about his nieces and nephews, but I have no idea how many there are, how old they are or anything.

  Susan turns out to be a fair bit older than Doug, and one of those mothers who had her first child young and loved being a mother so much she never stopped producing offspring. There are five kids spanning a range of ages. The smaller ones are running around too fast for introductions, but Doug points them out. Then he catches Lisa in the hallway. It turns out one of the nurses from the hospital is Doug’s eldest niece.

  “If it isn’t Santa,” she says. “I didn’t even know Santa was a fireman in his spare time. Surely you have toys to make, elves to keep in line, and you’re too busy to put out fires and rescue people running into trees. Your elf helper from the hospital is here, too.”

  And Rachel is the first person my eyes light upon when I take off my coat and go into the living room. She’s no longer dressed in green, but in a black velvet top and sparkly pencil skirt for the occasion. Nice!

  She colors when her eyes catch mine. I don’t think she expected to see me either. She shifts about in her seat, adjusting her skirt, and then she glances at me quickly again before looking away. Shame this is not a party for two. I’d have her looking at me in a completely different way.

  Lisa says, “Everyone, this is Flynn, Uncle Doug’s friend from the fire station. We’ll be fine if the candles set light to the curtains tonight.”

  Everyone says hello, but Rachel just mutters something unintelligible.

  Usually women get more interested when they find out I’m a firefighter. Not Rachel. She’s probably still remembering me saying she’d eaten too much or my undies remark. Fuck! Why did I ever say that? And now I can’t help wondering what she might be wearing under the top and sexy little skirt.

  CHAPTER 5

  Rachel

  Lisa grins at me after doing the introduction and shrugs her shoulders as if to say “What do you know?”

  It looks like she didn’t know Flynn was coming here. I’m sure she would have teased me about it if she had. I might have gone on about him a bit after the costume splitting event, and said a few things I wouldn’t have said if I knew I was going to meet him again with her around. Like going on and on about how hot I thought he was, and what a pity he was such a jerk.

  This Christmas party with Lisa’s family just got a lot more interesting, but to hell with letting Flynn know that. I can’t help taking a peek, though. Some things are too good not to notice.

  Now that he’s shed his costume, it’s clear what kind of physique Santa was hiding under there. A girl could get naked all over that! His white cotton shirt is making a poor attempt at disguising his broad shoulders, washboard flat stomach and arms that could carry a girl to safety—any day.

  He probably has women falling all over him. But then, why does he have no one special to go to on Christmas Day?

  Whatever. This gal is not going to fall for him, or anyone for that matter. My days of head-over-heels, where-did-my-brain-go romance are dead and buried with my lying, cheating ex.

  But I have to stop dwelling on that on Christmas Day. I’ve been trying so hard not to imagine what it would have been like to spend it with Patrick, and failing badly. Lisa invited me over. I’ve got to be a cheerful guest.

  The living room has a circle of mismatched chairs to accommodate all the visitors, each one wrapped with a strand of festive tinsel.

  “Okay?” Flynn asks, taking the dining room chair next to me, as if he needs permission to sit so close. Given it’s the only available chair, I’m hardly likely to say no. But there’s not one part of me objecting, anyway. He’s wearing that Flynn cologne again. I breathe it in, and my heart speeds up in recognition. That scent! He relaxes on the chair, spreading out his legs like the space belongs to him, and his thigh touches mine, accidentally I think. Or maybe not. I move my leg, subtly, but not right away. Not like I’ve been burned, like you might if you didn’t want to be touched.

  Lisa hands him a glass of Champagne and fills my glass from the bottle. It’s my third since I arrived, but who’s counting?

  “Cheers,” he says after thanking Lisa, and he lifts his glass to touch mine. “Merry Christmas, elf Rachel.”

  “Santa,” I say. There’s a whole conversation going on here with very few words. But maybe my subtext converter is having a malfunction, and he’s not saying, “I like the look of you,” even if that’s what I want him to be thinking. My brain should be saying ‘you’re a jerk,’ but it’s clearly gone on a different track entirely.

  Lisa watches me, amusement all over her face.

  I poke my tongue out at her, so fast, I think no one can possibly see my rude gesture, but Flynn catches me. “Naughty elf,” he says. “Just wait until Santa gets you home.”

  I wish, but I feel myself blushing all the same. Who knew Christmas could be this much fun above the age of twelve?

  I’m glad to be here now. I lazed around all day at home enjoying the day off before getting to the party at three, but being by myself all day would have been a bit much.

  I got a call earlier from Dad, on his wedding anniversary cruise with my stepmother. Their third anniversary. Not that I begrudge Dad a bit of happiness. It’s been so many years since Mom passed, but right up until this moment, I was wishing he hadn’t gone away for Christmas.

  There is still a pile of gifts under the tree. Lisa tells me there were so many things this morning, the younger ones had to be rationed in case they went right off the scale with excitement. It’s also typical of Lisa’s mom not to let anyone who visits on Christmas Day leave empty-handed, so I’m glad I pre-empted this and put a few things under the tree for the family. Lisa and I already exchanged gifts earlier in the week so I could wear my present from her today—the black velvet top I love.

  “Can I give out the gifts now?” Lisa’s eight-year-old little brother, Kieran, asks.

  “Yes, I think it’s time,” Susan says, and she sits down for a moment. “Everyone is here. And now is good before we all get so stuffed, the wrapping paper and tape will defeat us.”

  Kieran hands out neatly wrapped packages one by one with great solemnity, as if he were a wise man offering gifts of the Magi to the baby in the manger. I almost expect to find myrrh in my gift from Susan. (What is myrrh, anyway? Does anyone actually know?)

  Everyone gasps with pleasure over their gifts, the kids genuinely, I think. The adults are probably less thrilled with their novelty, you-wouldn’t-buy-it-except-at-Christmas type presents.

  After a full twenty minutes, there are no gifts left under the tree, but Kieran has just gotten into his stride.


  “What about the pile in the spare bedroom?” he asks Susan.

  “Those are for unexpected guests,” she says.

  The adults nod sagely; a wise woman, much better prepared than me at Christmas should anyone call around. Lisa goes off to help her mother with the last minute touches to the food. All the women, including me, leap up and offer to help, but we’re told it’s all in hand and to enjoy our drinks. I notice none of the men get up. It’s the same every Christmas.

  “I know where there’s another one,” Kieran says, and goes off, coming back bearing another brightly wrapped gift. He hands it me. “Lisa must have forgotten this one. Look. It’s got your name on it.”

  I look up to see if Lisa has come back into the room, but she’s still helping her mother. Did she mean to give this to me, or did she buy and wrap it and then change her mind? Maybe she decided to keep it for herself and give me the velvet shirt instead.

  “Did you ask Lisa about it?”

  “She said it was okay.”

  He doesn’t seem too sure about that, but it’s nice to have another gift to open, and I can always sort it out with Lisa later if I’ve got it wrong. Kieran is looking at me as if he’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t get to see yet another gift unwrapped. And knowing Lisa, it is meant for me. She’s always very generous.

  No one takes much notice as I unwrap the paper. Two couples are talking about the price of houses around here, and saying things like “Isn’t it a shame Christmas has gotten so commercial?”

  Flynn winks at me as if enjoying the irony of the two lines of conversation coming out right next to each other. “A real shame,” he mouths, as the couples get into their stride. And I smile back. The fizzy wine is making me feel happier than ever. That and Flynn’s eyes twinkling in merriment.

  I look at the label which says, “Have fun. You need some fun. Lisa xoxo.” I rip open the last of the Christmas paper, but when I see what’s inside, I almost drop the box.

  There’s no way Lisa meant to give me this particular gift in front of everyone. She wouldn’t do that to me. Not a Super Deluxe Mega vibrator, although she’s been threatening to get me a toy since I recovered from the first shock of Patrick’s betrayal, my social life melting away with him like the snow on a log fire. “If you’re not going out and dating, it’s the next best thing,” she kept saying, but I didn’t think she meant it seriously.

  I just manage to hide the thing under my chair before anyone registers what it is.

  Flynn raises his eyebrows. He must have seen my reaction. Did he see the gift? Jeez, how embarrassing. I can’t look him in the eye, not that I was finding it easy to take more than surreptitious glances at him before this.

  Kieran, temporarily distracted by the Night Sight goggles he got in his latest haul, finally released from their packaging by an adult, is back at my side, wearing them, and not so easily put off. “What did Lisa give you?”

  “Just a thing ladies use for makeup and stuff.”

  “Right. Bo-ring,” he says, and runs off with his goggles.

  And at that point, Susan calls us into the dining room. I don’t even have a chance to thank Lisa for her present, despite the embarrassment of receiving it. Whether I want it or not, I know she means well. It’s supposed to be encouragement to live a little and experiment.

  But sex and me, well, that never happens the way it should. I think that’s why Patrick went the way of the dodo. Vanished right out of my life. He said I was hopeless in bed. And I kind of agree with him. I had to pretend I was into it half the time to avoid denting his ego. He’s a rat, but there’s some truth in his criticism.

  CHAPTER 6

  Flynn

  Dinner is good. Doug’s sister can cook, for sure. And it doesn’t hurt that I’m sitting next to Rachel and we’re all squeezed in tightly around the big dining table, thigh touching distance. Did Susan do that on purpose? Two singles together. Whatever. I’ll take it.

  The conversation around the table is friendly and polite at first and then gets a bit more riotous and everyone starts to enjoy it a bit more, letting their hair down.

  Except for Rachel. She still seems a bit reserved. Enjoying it. Smiling, but not giving much away like some of the louder women.

  I want to tease her about her gift, but I sense it will upset her. Interesting. Maybe my elf helper needs to learn to let go a little.

  The kids ask to leave the table, and Susan says they can go and play while we have after dinner drinks. She passes around brandy and port. Just as well I planned on walking back to my place tonight. Will Rachel let me take her home? Walk into her life? Her bed? I’m hard at the thought.

  “Do you live near here?” I ask her.

  “Not far. Just around the corner. You?”

  “About three miles. I’m going to walk after all this wine and brandy. There’s no chance of a stray cab tonight. They’re like gold dust.”

  “You can stay with me,” she says, and then claps her hand over her mouth. “In the spare room, I mean, not with me exactly. I didn’t mean that.”

  “I didn’t think that,” I say graciously, though just for a second I imagined that was what she meant, what I wanted it to mean.

  The doors of the dining room fly open.

  “What are you lot doing?” Gordon, Susan’s husband, asks, laughing, as the kids fly in, brandishing all kinds of weapons.

  “Playing Star Wars,” Jamie says. “Kieran’s Darth Vader. If he catches us, we’re going to have to fight him to the death.”

  And just then Kieran races in brandishing Rachel’s new gift, and it’s glowing alternately red and green in the dim light of the dining room, just like a light saber.

  CHAPTER 7

  Rachel

  “What have you got there, darling?” Susan asks, oblivious to my face, the color of beetroot for sure.

  Kieran hands my “gift” over to his mother. “It’s a light saber. Rachel got it for Christmas. It’s some makeup thing, really.”

  The conversation stops. There’s nothing but the sound of the Queen’s traditional broadcast being repeated on the TV news next door as she wishes everyone a Merry Christmas.

  No one says anything here, though. I want the dining table and all of us around it to fall into a black hole in the earth, never to be seen again. This is the worst Christmas. Ever.

  “That’s Rachel’s gift, not yours, Kieran. Give it back now,” Susan says.

  “She won’t mind, will you Rachel? She didn’t want to play with it straight away herself. It was just under her chair.”

  I see Lisa wide eyed over the other side of the table. She’s trying not to laugh. It’s okay for her.

  And then Flynn saves the day. “I think Star Wars is a bit too much for this time of day. Didn’t I spot a game of Twister in the living room? What about you all put your swords and light sabers away and we’ll have a game of that?”

  Within a minute, he has the three Luke Skywalkers and Darth Vader in contortions on the Twister mat, my “light saber” rescued from Kieran and discreetly popped into my bag.

  Lisa says quietly to me as we go into the kitchen with some of the dishes, “Sorry. You weren’t supposed to get it at the party.”

  “I didn’t think so. Thanks anyway.”

  “It was more of a last-minute gift as a thank you for doing the elf routine at the hospital.”

  “There was no need to thank me for that. It was fun.”

  “I think you enjoyed it more because of Santa.”

  “Could be.” I laugh.

  “I didn’t know Doug invited him, but I’m happy he did, for you.”

  “Me too.”

  After the dishes are done and the now-stormtroopers are collapsed in a giggling heap on the plastic Twister mat, we go through to the living room and join the rest of the party.

  “You’re a miracle worker with them,” Lisa says to Flynn. “The kids at the hospital keep asking for a repeat performance from the elf and Santa, by the way.”

  Flynn l
ooks up. “What did you tell them?”

  “That they will be busy making toys for next year.”

  “I guess we could squeeze in another visit. What do you say, Rachel?”

  “Squeeze would be the problem. I mended the costume, but…”

  He laughs. “I could rent some different costumes if it would still cheer them up. They deserve a few laughs. Maybe we could go as Tom and Jerry.”

  I smile. This is going to be the funniest date ever. Or is it a date? Is he just doing this for the children, or does he really want to see me again? “It’s a deal. Whatever. Just no Star Wars costumes,” I say, grateful to Flynn, in any case, for the way he rescued me earlier.

  “Definitely no Jedi Knights or light sabers required,” he says and winks. “Star Wars never did it for me.”

  After a while when the conversation becomes more general and everyone at the party joins in, people start drifting off, and I gather up my things. I guess it’s time to go. Flynn hasn’t asked for my number. Maybe he didn’t mean it about the hospital, but if he didn’t mean it, why did he suggest it?

  As I go out into the hall, I sense Flynn behind me, towering over me, and I breathe in the subtle manly scent of him certain parts of me are starting to recognize. “I’ll walk you home,” he says. “If you want me to.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  He helps me on with my coat. I feel his warm breath on my neck and try not to melt. My insides are buzzing like the promise from the vibrator in my bag. Good happy vibes.

  Lisa smiles at me and gives me a hug. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” she whispers, and I laugh. She wouldn’t be doing any of this. She’s happy with Ben.

  But as we say our thanks to Susan and the family waves us off, I seem to be stepping in where angels (even those on top of Christmas trees) fear to tread.

  CHAPTER 8

  Flynn