The Children's Christmas Party

This last effect was deputed to Lovejoy to accomplish. Artificial snow was not a problem. Newspaper torn into tiny pieces would serve, and he soon accumulated a sufficient supply. It was a means for dispensing it which eluded him. His first thought was to suspend Eric from the beams above the stage with a pillow case full of the artificial snow, and let him scatter it manually. Attractive though the vision was of Eric swinging from a rafter, made doubly so by the possibility of forgetting to let him down, Lovejoy was forced to admit that it lacked practicability. He resorted instead to a solution founded on his joinery skills.

In his workshop he made a chest, as large as one man could carry unaided, with a hinged lid. The lid had no fastening, but did sport a handle which projected beyond the front of the chest. To the bottom of the chest he attached two diagonal straps, corner to corner, in the shape of a St Andrew's cross. He took the chest to the Functions Room, stopping at the hardware shop en route for a few additional items.

Mounting a tall step ladder, he fixed two pulleys to the ceiling beams above centre stage. Over each of the pulleys he threaded a clothes line, one blue and one white. He fixed two more pulleys to the ceiling in the wings stage right, and threaded the lines over them also. To the wall below the pulleys in the wings he fixed two cleats, and tied the ropes, one to each cleat. The two clothes lines thus ran from their cleats up to the ceiling in the wings, across to centre stage, and down to the floor.

Lovejoy placed the chest upside down on the floor centre stage and tied the blue clothes line to the intersection of the straps on the bottom. He tested the fastening by moving to the wings and hauling in a yard or so of the blue line. The chest rose smoothly up from the floor, the lid falling open as it did so. Satisfied, Lovejoy lowered the chest and tied the white clothes line to the projecting handle of the lid. He placed a few pieces of the artificial snow in the chest, laid it upside down on the floor, and returned to the wings. Taking care to keep the white line as taut as the blue, so as to hold the lid closed, he pulled in both lines until the chest was up to the ceiling. He fastened both lines securely to the cleats. He then unfastened the white line. The lid of the chest fell open, and his sample snowflakes fluttered down. He lowered the chest once more to the floor, filled it with all the snow flakes, and hauled it up again, tying off both lines, the blue which supported the chest and the white which held the lid closed. Before leaving he attached a large notice to the cleats: "DO NOT TOUCH!!"

* * *

On the day of the Christmas party, proceedings started with the tea. The table was laden with jelly and trifle, chocolate cake and cream buns, mince pies and Christmas pudding, lemonade and Tizer. When the children were replete, the tables were pushed to one side and there were party games: blind man's bluff, musical chairs, and pinning the tail on the donkey. After these had run their course, Reg signalled to Cyril behind the curtains. Cyril put "Jingle Bells" on the gramophone, and the sleigh slowly moved onto the stage, stopping at its designated spot. There were "oohs" and "ahs" from most of the children. Tommy Simpson was heard to say, "That ain't Farver Christmas. 'E's a fraud!" but he failed to win support from his peers, who were now watching in puzzled amazement as Prudence decided to improvise.

Alighting from the sleigh, she strutted around it with a high-stepping gait, pausing occasionally to strike a pose. Fathers who usually stole away at this point remained in attendance. One who lived nearby dashed home to get his camera, and Prudence's audience grew in consequence of remarks he made as he passed through the bar. Wives who in earlier years had been wont to complain to their husbands, "You could have stayed to help with the kids," were this year heard saying, "You don't need to stay, dear. Why don't you go downstairs and get yourself a drink?" Frank Jenkins, who covered local events for the Nutchester & District Advertiser, burnt his fingers changing flashbulbs too hastily, and used up all the film that was supposed to last him until the New Year, to the puzzlement of his editor, who never got to see the majority of the photographs, as they remained in Frank's bedside drawer.

* * *

Lovejoy did not witness the entrance of the sleigh. Carrying a toolbag, he had surreptitiously slipped down the corridor behind the stage in order to carry out a commission entrusted to him by Mrs Wagstaff. He entered the dressing room, leaving his toolbag in the doorway so as to hold the door ajar. From the bag he took two wine glasses and an opened but full bottle of Madeira, and placed them on the dressing table. He then unscrewed the inside doorknob and removed it. This allowed him to withdraw the square bolt which passed through the lock and engaged with both knobs, the turning of which operated the latch. He laid the bolt to one side and inserted in its place a similar bolt taken from his bag. This was one which he had previously sawn to a shorter length. He pushed it well into the hole so that it engaged with the outside knob and the lock, but fell short of engaging with the inside knob. He replaced the knob and tested his handiwork. The outside knob still operated as normal, but the inside knob was now ineffectual, turning idly without withdrawing the latch. Satisfied with the result, he packed his tools into the bag and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Outside he paused. "Better double check," he thought. He put his tool bag down, opened the door and looked in. The original bolt from the door was still lying where he had laid it on the floor. "Good job I checked," he thought. He stepped inside and bent down to pick it up. His backside nudged the door, and it closed behind him.

When Mrs Wagstaff had first asked him to sabotage the door lock, he had objected that anyone shut in would simply call for help and be released in a moment. She had assured him that the door was too thick and too remote for any such calls to be audible in the hall. This assertion he was now able to test for himself, and he found it to be vindicated. He settled resignedly in a chair and contemplated the bottle of Madeira.

* * *

Confident that she had satisfied her public, Prudence eventually resumed her seat in the sleigh. Simon made his introductory announcement to the children, and they queued to sit on his knee. Simon managed to play his part without dropping a single infant, and Prudence dutifully made a note of the requested presents. When the last child had left the stage, Simon uttered one last "Ho ho ho," and Cyril lowered the needle again on "Jingle Bells." That was the cue for the snow, but no snow came.

Reg moved to the front of the curtain and whispered urgently, "Lovejoy, the snow!"

Behind the curtain Eric stood alone, now faced with a dilemma. Lovejoy, who was supposed to operate the snow dispenser and instruct Eric on when to haul the sleigh offstage, was absent from his post. The sign clearly said, "DO NOT TOUCH!!" but Lovejoy's reputation was in the balance and it was up to him to save it. He gave a tentative pull on each line in turn, but both were taut and would not give a millimetre. Clearly, the required action was to loosen them. With some trepidation, he unfastened the white line. Snow fluttered down satisfactorily. From the front there were gasps of delight and more than a little applause. Buoyed by the success of his action, Eric decided to double the effect, and unfastened the blue line. The chest narrowly missed Prudence but struck Simon a glancing blow on the head. He fell unconscious, a trickle of blood down his forehead matching the colour of his outfit.

As usual, Tommy Simpson had an instant diagnosis. "'E's dead!" he announced loudly.

The cry was swiftly taken up by other children. "They've killed Santa Claus!"

"Father Christmas has been murdered!"

There was much screaming, sobbing, and rushing about. Parents hurried to sweep up their offspring and carry them away. Two St John Ambulance volunteers struggled to reach the stage against the tide of the exodus. They were secretly glad to have a worthwhile accident on their hands at last. In all the years they had attended the Christmas party, the most demanding occasion had been the year that Peggy Parkin had a jelly bean stuck up her nostril, courtesy of Tommy Simpson. They lifted Simon onto a stretcher and carried him down to their ambulance.

Prudence stood ignored, not sure what to do. Humphrey Snoad, the local bookmaker, sidled over to her. "Let me give you a lift home," he suggested. "No need to get changed. My Rover's just outside. It's got a heater."

"I'll just get my things then," whispered Prudence, and went off down the corridor. On opening the door to the dressing room the first thing she saw was Lovejoy asleep in a chair, an empty wine bottle beside him. Not wishing to disturb his rest, she left the door open while she swiftly gathered up her clothes, then stole away quietly, silently shutting the door behind her.

* * *

The next day, news of Simon's accident spread around the village, and those who had not been present were keen to get reliable accounts from those who had. Tommy shared his eye-witness testimony with anyone who would listen. "A great big chopper came swinging down from the ceiling and sliced his head clean in two. His brains all fell out on the floor, but they picked them up and put them in a jar. The doctors are going to sew them back in, but they have to be jolly careful. If they put them in the wrong way round, he'll turn into Doctor Jackal, and he'll have to hide." Tommy's parents had a library of gothic literature which Tommy was wont to peruse with more enthusiasm than comprehension.

His account did not go unchallenged. The jelly bean, though long since removed from Peggy Parkin's nostril, still rankled in her mind. She too had been at the party, and was not slow to refute Tommy's account. "Someone shouted, 'Off with his head!' and a big croquet mallet came swinging down and knocked Santa's head clean off his shoulders. The doctors are going to fix it back on with a special bolt. I dare say they'll make a film about it, and I'll be in it."

By the afternoon, more reliable news was available from Eric Wrigley, whose sister was a nurse at the hospital. Simon's skull was not fractured, but he did have a cut which needed two stitches. It was above the hair line, and the scar would be invisible once the hair had grown back. He had very mild concussion which a few days of rest should cure, but to be on the safe side he was to be kept in hospital for observation over Christmas.

Nurse Carol Wrigley ministered to Simon's needs while he was in hospital. She spent more time at his bedside than was strictly necessary, partly to avoid the young housemen, who made little distinction between Christmas and Saturnalia, but also because she enjoyed his chatter, which was all the more fluent because the analgesic medication prescribed for him reduced his inhibitions. They continued to see each other after Simon was discharged, and married each other in the Spring.

Prudence was not at the wedding. She had left the district soon after Christmas. Her aunt expressed herself as being glad she had gone. "That pesky girl never used to let me do anything for myself," she explained. The absence of her niece was made the more endurable by the generous remittance which she thenceforth received from Prudence every month, though it was a mystery to her how the girl could ever earn such money.

Prudence never returned to the village, but Fred the garage mechanic, who was a regular reader of Spick and Span photographic magazine, found that he now saw a great deal more of her than he ever had before.

* * *