Lucy Gordon - The Millionaire’s Christmas Wish

Remembering how close he’d come to cancelling, he had the grace to feel awkward and was glad that fiddling with his beard gave him an excuse not to look at her.

‘Here,’ she said, laughing. ‘Let me fix that.’

‘There’s an awful lot of stuff to put on,’ Alex said. ‘I thought it would just be a white thing with hooks over the ears.’

‘Well, there are hooks, but there’s also glue so that it fits your mouth and stays in place. Jimmy believes in doing things properly. He got this from a theatrical costumier, and he chose the best.’

‘Jimmy?’

‘Jimmy is spending Christmas with us-or he was before he was knocked down by some maniac driver.’

‘I did not knock him down,’ Alex said through gritted teeth. ‘He fell.’

‘Whatever. He chose the costume, and it’s a good one.’

Alex had to admit that it was the best. The beard was soft and silky, gleaming white, with a huge moustache that flowed down into the beard itself. When it was fixed in place it covered his mouth almost completely.

But there was something else.

‘A wig?’ he protested.

‘Of course. How can you be convincing with a white beard and brown hair?’

‘Won’t my hair be covered by a hood?’

‘Even with a hood they’d notice. Children notice everything these days. They see wonderful special effects on films and television, and when they get close up to reality they expect it to be just as convincing.’

He grumbled some more, but when the wig was on he had to admit that it looked impressive. Long, thick and flowing, it streamed down over his shoulders, mingling with the beard, which was also long and flowing.

He looked nothing like himself, and that was some consolation, he reflected. At least nobody would be able to identify him.

He was beginning to get into the part now, driven by the instinct that governed his life-to be the best at whatever he undertook.

If you weren’t the best there was no point in doing it. Right?

In some respects he had the physique, being over six foot. But there was one flaw.

‘I’m too thin,’ he objected. ‘This suit was made for someone a lot bigger.’

‘There’s some padding,’ Corinne said, diving back into the bag.

With the padding in place he had a satisfactory paunch.

‘Will I do?’ he demanded.

‘Your cheeks need to be rosier.’

‘Get off! What are you doing?’

‘Just a little red to make you convincing.’

‘I won’t even ask what you’ve just put on my face.’ He groaned. ‘I don’t want to know.’

‘You look great. Completely convincing. Now, let’s have a ho-ho-ho!’

‘Ho-ho-ho!’ he intoned.

‘No, you need to be more full and rounded. Try it again, and make it boom this time.’

‘Ho-ho-ho!’

To her surprise, he made a good job of it.

‘Well done,’ she said. ‘That was really convincing.’

‘You thought I couldn’t be?’

‘Jimmy never manages it that way. He tries but it comes out sounding reedy.’

‘What about my eyebrows?’ Alex asked. ‘Are they white enough?’

He was right. His dark brown eyebrows now looked odd against the gleaming white hair and whiskers.

‘There aren’t any false eyebrows,’ she said, inspecting the bag. ‘You’ll have to go as you are.’

‘No way. We’ll do this properly. This is a kitchen, right? Won’t there be some flour?’

‘The kitchen’s just for making tea,’ Corinne objected, opening cupboard doors.

But, against all odds, she found a small bag of flour with some left inside.

‘Fancy you thinking of that,’ she said, rubbing it into his eyebrows until the natural colour faded.

‘When I was a kid I wanted to be an actor,’ he said.

‘You never told me that before.’

‘I was never trapped under half a ton of gum and whiskers before.’

She stood back and regarded him.

‘You look great,’ she said. ‘Here’s your sack of toys, all labelled. Are you ready?’

‘Let’s go!’

E LEPHANT W ARDhad been designed and decorated for children. Streams of cheerful-looking cartoon elephants walked around the walls and played games with their trunks.

Alex stood in the doorway and boomed, ‘ Ho-ho-ho !’ to an accompaniment of shrieks from the rows of beds. When it quietened, Corinne murmured, ‘First bed on the right, Tommy Arkright, broken pelvis. Fascinated by ghosts.’

Whoever had planned this had done it well, Alex realised as soon as he began talking to Tommy. The name, the ailment and the interest were all accurate, and when Tommy unwrapped his gift, which turned out to be a book of ghost stories, it was a triumphant moment.

It was the same with the next child, and the next. From being self-conscious, Alex began to relax, and even to enjoy himself. In part this was due to the knowledge that he was unrecognisable. Not that people here would have known him anyway, but the total anonymity still made him feel easier.

He was in a good temper when he came to the end of the ward and turned in the doorway for a final wave and a cry of, ‘Goodbye, everyone.’

‘Goodbye, Santa!’ came the answering roar.

‘I’ll say this for that Bradon woman,’ he growled as they headed down the corridor towards Butterfly Ward. ‘She prepared the ground properly.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Every detail was right. Good preparation is the secret.’

‘I agree. But why do you give the credit to her?’

‘Didn’t she organise all this?’

‘No, I did, you rotten so-and-so,’ she said indignantly. ‘I personally went round every child, asking questions, trying not to be too obvious about it.’

‘You?’ His surprise was unflattering but she told herself she was past being bothered by him now.

‘Yes, me,’ she said lightly. ‘Feather-brained Corinne who can just about manage a shopping list, remember? I prepared the ground, gathered intelligence, surveyed the prospects-er-’ She clutched her forehead, trying to think of other businesslike expressions.

‘Appraised the situation?’ He helped her out. ‘You did a great job.’

‘So did you.’

‘Much to your amazement,’ he said with a grin that she could just detect behind the beard.

‘You see over there-’ she said, not answering directly ‘-the Christmas tree in the corner?’

‘Yes.’

‘When you’ve finished on Butterfly Ward that’s where you go and sit. I’m off to collect Bobby and Mitzi, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.’

‘Are you going to tell them it’s me?’

‘No, I think it will be nicer not to. Let’s see if they guess.’

‘Of course they’ll guess. I’m their father.’

She did not reply.

On Butterfly Ward it was the same as before, except that now he was full of confidence and performed his part with a touch of swagger that went down well.

Corinne stayed long enough to see him settle in before leaning down to murmur, ‘I’m off now. Back soon.’

It was only a few minutes’ drive to the house where the party was being held. Bobby and Mitzi piled into the car, wearing party hats, clutching gifts and giggling.

‘No need to ask if you had a good time,’ Corinne said.

‘And now we’re going to see Father Christmas,’ Mitzi yelled gleefully.

Bobby touched Corinne’s arm and spoke quietly. ‘Is Daddy still coming?’

‘Yes, darling, he’s still coming.’

‘He didn’t cancel while we were at the party?’

‘No, he didn’t.’

He searched her face.

‘Are you sure ?’

Until then Corinne had been feeling in charity with Alex, but at the sight of Bobby’s painful anxiety she discovered that she could hate him again. No man had the right to do that to a child, to destroy his sense of security in his parents, so that every moment of happiness had to be checked and re-checked to discover the catch.