At the hospital she took them straight to where Alex should be sitting by the tree, only half expecting him to be there.
But of course he was there! Alex had run his pride up this flagpole and it was really no surprise that he was doing well. He had one child on his knee and another standing beside him, while their mother looked on, smiling. There were three others waiting.
Corinne inched forward carefully, keeping her eyes on Bobby and Mitzi, waiting for the moment of recognition.
It didn’t come.
Of course it was the beard and hair, she realised. The disguise was magnificent. It would be different when they were closer.
At that moment Alex looked up. His eyes went first to Corinne, then to the children, then back to Corinne, while his eyebrows signalled a question. Almost imperceptibly she shook her head.
She took them to the end of the little queue, said something to them and walked away.
Alex was glad that he’d bothered to dress up properly when he heard one child mutter, just audibly, ‘He looks like a real Santa, Mummy.’
At last his own two children stood before him, Mitzi keeping back a little. It was weeks since he’d seen her, and he’d forgotten how fast children grew. Her hair, which had been short, was now long enough to wear in bunches which stood out from her head, giving her the appearance of a cheeky elf. He couldn’t help grinning at the picture she presented.
But right now she was solemn and seemed unwilling to come forward.
‘Go on,’ Bobby urged her.
But she shook her head.
‘She’s a bit shy,’ Bobby confided to Santa.
‘But I’m-’ He checked himself, and amended the words to, ‘But I’m Santa Claus. Nobody is shy of me.’
He waited for one of them to say, Daddy! But neither of them did.
Of course, he thought. They were pretending not to know, enjoying the joke.
He leaned down to Mitzi. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me what you want for Christmas?’ Big mistake. Mitzi was surveying him, wide-eyed with astonishment.
‘But I already told you. I put it in my letter. Didn’t you get it?’
‘Of course I did,’ he improvised hastily.
Over her head his frantic eyes met Bobby’s. The boy mouthed ‘Marianne doll set.’
Since he’d never heard of this, Alex had to signal bafflement with his eyebrows. Bobby mouthed it again, more emphatically, and this time Alex understood. ‘Ah, now I remember. You want a Marianne doll set,’ he echoed, and saw his daughter’s eyes light up.
‘The one in the riding habit,’ his son mouthed at him.
‘The one in the riding habit,’ Alex repeated.
Mitzi’s beaming smile told him he’d got it right.
‘But is that all?’ he asked. ‘Isn’t there anything else you’ve thought of since?’
Mitzi hesitated until her brother nudged her gently and whispered, ‘Go on.’
Emboldened, the little girl reached up to say, ‘And can I have a necklace?’
‘Of course you can,’ Alex said.
Suddenly the little girl hugged him. He tensed, thinking of the beard that might be dislodged. But it held, and he became aware of her arms, holding him without restraint.
She had hugged him before, but not like that. Now he knew what he had always sensed in her embraces. It had been caution. And it wasn’t there now.
Before he had time to take in the implications, she had released him and moved aside, making room for her brother, who came in close.
But before addressing Santa he wagged a finger at his sister.
‘Don’t wander off,’ he told her severely.
She stuck out her tongue.
‘Does she give you much trouble?’ Alex asked with a grin.
‘She’s OK most of the time,’ Bobby said seriously. ‘But sometimes she won’t do as I say ’cos I’m not very much older than her.’
It was a three-year difference, but a sudden inspiration made Alex say, ‘About five years?’
Bobby looked pleased. ‘Not quite as much as that,’ he admitted. ‘But almost. And it’s a great responsibility being the man of the family.’
‘The man of-? Don’t you have a father?’
Bobby made a face. ‘Sort of.’
Alex felt an uneasy stillness settle over him.
‘What do you mean, sort of?’
‘Well, I don’t really know him very well,’ Bobby said. ‘He’s not around much.’
‘I expect he’s busy,’ Alex said.
‘Oh, yes, he’s always very busy. Too busy for us. He and Mummy aren’t together any more.’
‘Do you know why that is?’ Alex asked carefully.
Bobby gave a shrug.
‘They were always rowing, and Mummy cried a lot.’
A strange feeling went through Alex. Corinne had never let him see her cry. Not for a long time.
‘Did she tell you why she cried?’ he asked.
Bobby shook his head.
‘She doesn’t know I’ve seen her and I have to pretend not to, because she doesn’t like anyone to know.’
‘So you don’t know why?’
Bobby shook his head.
‘Perhaps she misses your dad?’ Alex ventured.
‘I don’t think so. He’s nasty to her.’
‘How?’ Alex asked, a touch more sharply than he’d meant to.
‘I don’t know, but when they talk on the phone she cries after she’s hung up. But he doesn’t mean to be nasty,’ Bobby added quickly. ‘He just doesn’t know how people feel about things.’
Alex hesitated for a while before saying, ‘So maybe it’s better that they’re not together?’
‘Oh, no,’ Bobby said, shaking his head vigorously. ‘He’s coming home for Christmas and it’s going to be brilliant-that is-if he really comes.’
‘Has he said he will?’
‘Yes, but-’ Bobby’s shrug was more eloquent than a thousand words.
Alex could not speak. There were too many thoughts swirling around in his head, and they were all of the kind he found hard to cope with. The best he could manage was to put his arm around Bobby’s shoulders and squeeze.
‘You think he’ll back out?’ he asked at last.
‘I keep telling myself he’ll be there,’ Bobby said. ‘It isn’t for long. Just Christmas Eve until Christmas Day. He could spare us that, couldn’t he?’
‘I should think he could spare you more than that,’ Alex managed to say in a voice that he hoped didn’t shake too much.
‘Could you fix it?’ Bobby asked.
‘You want me to arrange for him to stick around for longer than that?’
‘Oh, no,’ Bobby disclaimed quickly, as though saying that nobody should ask for the impossible. ‘Just make sure he’s there for when he said he’d be.’
‘All right. It’s a promise.’
Bobby searched his face anxiously. ‘You really mean it?’
‘You think I can’t do it?’
Bobby shook his head, his eyes fixed on Santa with a look in them that was almost fierce.
‘You can do anything,’ he said, ‘if you really want to.’
The air seemed to be singing in Alex’s ears. He wondered if he’d imagined the emphasis in the last words.
‘Then I promise,’ he said.
‘Honestly? Dad will be here until Christmas Day, and he won’t leave early?’
Alex was swept by a mood of recklessness. ‘I can do better than that,’ he said. ‘He’ll arrive early, and he’ll stay longer than Christmas Day.’
He waited for the effusion of joy. It did not come. If anything, the fierce scrutiny on the child’s face intensified.
‘Really and truly?’ he asked. ‘Cut your throat and hope to die?’
‘Of course. When I give my word, I keep it.’
‘That’s what he says,’ insisted Bobby. And suddenly it was a child’s voice again, forlorn and almost on the edge of tears.
Alex put his hands on both Bobby’s shoulders.
‘He will be there tonight,’ he said. ‘You have my solemn promise. Word of a Santa!’
Bobby nodded, as though satisfied.
‘Now,’ Alex said, ‘tell me what you want for Christmas.’