Massive in Lapland

by Ian Edwards

  Chapter 6

  Alan and Sarah stood outside her hotel room exchanging looks.

  ‘Go on,’ Alan urged.

  ‘Why me?’ She asked.

  ‘Ladies first. Or because it’s your room, or because Pekka loves you. Any of those is grounds for you to go first.’

  ‘That’s very chivalrous son. You must have been a gallant knight in a previous life,’ Frankie said appearing between them.

  Sarah shivered involuntarily and knocked twice on the door.

  ‘Try the handle,’ Alan suggested when there was no answer.

  Sarah turned the handle and the door clicked open. ‘Pekka,’ she called out. ‘It’s me, Sarah.’

  ‘And Alan.’ Alan added.

  ‘It’s dark in there, he’s probably still asleep,’ Frankie suggested.

  ‘No lights on. He’s probably still asleep. Or maybe he’s already gone.’ Alan nodded at Sarah. ‘In you go.’

  Frankie gave Alan a shove in the back and he stumbled forward through the door. ‘Actually, I’ll go first,’ Alan said to the sound of Sarah’s giggles. He palmed the light switch, bathing the room in soft light.

  ‘He’s been and gone,’ Alan pointed to the empty bed. ‘He did leave a note though,’ he added, picking up the sheet of folded paper from the pillow.

  ‘What does it say?’ Sarah peered over his shoulder.

  Alan quickly scanned the note;

  Dear Sarah and Alan.

  Thanks for the use of the bed. I’m off to get things sorted out for our departure. I’ll catch up with you later.

  Happy regards,

  Pekka

  PS Sarah will you marry me?

  ‘What do you think?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘I still think you’re better off with him than Giles.’

  ‘I mean about him wanting us to get him out of the country?’

  ‘I have an approach to dealing with these kinds of situations.’

  ‘You do?’ Sarah and Frankie said at the same time, causing Alan to giggle.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ She asked.

  ‘Oh, er…the look on your face. I suggest that we treat this problem the same way that I deal with all awkward situations.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Sarah,’ Frankie advised.

  ‘We find a bar and hide out there until this all blows over.’

  ‘Told you,’ Frankie frowned. ‘Saying I told you so is no fun when they can’t hear you.’

  ‘How does that work?’ Sarah asked sitting down on a chair. ‘You’ve two gigs to play, surely he’ll know where you are.’

  Alan sighed, disappointed that she didn’t get the film reference. It wasn’t like this with James. He’d know immediately what Alan was talking about. And he’d think it was a pretty good plan, too.

  ‘We spend the day in a bar in a public place. Pekka is not only the most famous face in Lapland, he’s also a giant. He can’t go anywhere without being noticed. The one place he’ll definitely not be is at the gig tonight.’

  Sarah stared at him, clearly not understanding.

  ‘It’s a comedy night. He’ll be more easily recognised there than anywhere else. Especially as I’m covering for him.’

  ‘That kind of makes sense,’ she smiled.

  ‘Great plan son,’ Frankie said nodding. ‘I never doubted you for a second.’

  *

  Alan sat on a sofa in the hotel reception area. He would usually spread his arms out over the top of the sofa, but he was concerned about an electric shock from the dodgy looking Christmas lights festooned around the edges.

  To his left the full size Santa sat on a sleigh trailing eight reindeers. Alan tried and failed to remember all their names. To his right, another full sized inflatable Santa appeared to be climbing down a chimney. He smiled at Païvi, the receptionist, who smiled back.

  Alan took this greeting as his cue to wander over to the reception desk.

  ‘Hi Païvi,’ he said. ‘Can you tell me where the best bars are?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, taking a map from the desk. ‘If you stay around here there are some really good bars.’ She drew a circle on the map with a pencil. ‘There’s a good choice there, they’re all busy and quite lively.’

  ‘Thanks Païvi,’ he said, folding the map and slipping it into his pocket.

  ‘Have a great day,’ Païvi smiled.

  Alan thanked her and bumped into Sarah.

  ‘I think she fancies you.’

  ‘We’ll go on a double date. Me and her, you and Pekka. Should be a fun night.’

  ‘Any idea where we’re going?’ Sarah asked, ignoring his jibe.

  ‘Yes actually, I do,’ he said and passed her the map. ‘Let’s go.’

  *

  Alan held the map out at arm’s length, stared at it and turned it round and looked closer.

  ‘You’re lost aren’t you?’ Sarah said.

  ‘We can’t be. I’ve followed the map.’ He turned the map upside down again. ‘We’ve gone past the Christmas store and the grotto, turned left. There should be several bars over on the right.’ He looked up and down a street that clearly had no bars of any description.

  ‘Every other shop is a Christmas shop or a grotto. We could have gone wrong anywhere.’ Sarah stamped her feet in an effort to keep warm. ‘Can we just go into the first bar we find? It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘Hi guys. What are you hanging around in the cold for?’ Frankie said, appearing between Alan and Sarah. Alan noticed that the usual cold breeze that accompanied Frankie’s appearance was almost warm in comparison to the freezing Finnish air.

  Alan ignored Frankie, instead he pointed across the road. ’Let’s go in there.’

  He led them towards a doorway positioned between two brightly coloured shop fronts. Strips of multi-coloured tinsel were placed along the door frame, and a sign above the entrance simply said; ‘BAR.’

  Alan walked across the road and opened the door. The entrance gave way to a small foyer with a large desk to one side and a staircase in the corner leading down towards what Alan presumed would be a basement.

  A man sat at the desk dressed in a heavy coat, Santa hat and a scarf knotted under his neck with the slogan ‘Knitted by Mrs Claus’ under the knot.

  ‘Can I help you?’ The man asked.

  ‘We’d like to go in please,’ Alan pointed towards the stairs. ‘Have a couple of drinks,’ he added in case the doorman had forgotten this was a bar.

  ‘Its members only, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Everyone here speaks such good English. Much better than the English,’ Frankie said walking past the man and down the stairs.

  ‘Can we become members?’ Sarah said. ’Have you got a form we can sign?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he looked them up and down. ‘We don’t just let anyone become a member. It’s a very selective club. I’m not sure that you’ll fit in.’

  ‘Actually,’ Alan said, leaning closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially, ‘We are close personal friends of Pekka Pekkonen.’

  The man stood up and leaned forward. ‘How close?’

  ‘My friend here,’ Alan gestured at Sarah, ‘has just agreed to marry him.’

  He looked at Sarah. ‘What, her?’

  ‘Yes,’ Alan nodded. ‘I know, there’s no accounting for taste.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you in today as a trial. See what you think?’

  ‘That’s very nice of you, thank you,’ Sarah told him.

  ‘Not at all,’ the man said. ‘It’s the least I can do for the future Mrs Pekkonen.’

  Sarah managed to smile pleasantly at the man whilst simultaneously scowling at Alan. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘Just a thought,’ Alan said. ’Does Pekka ever come here?’

  The man shook his head. ‘No. It’s not really his type of place. You won’t see him in here.’

  ‘Never mind Sarah, you’ll just have to catch up with your fiancé later,�
� Alan said, relieved.

  ‘Well enjoy your stay,’ the man said and stepped aside allowing Alan and Sarah access. ‘Oh and mind your heads…’ he called after them as they descended the stairs.

  Sarah followed Alan down two flights of stairs with a set doors at the bottom.

  ‘I assume this is it,’ she said.

  ‘Must be,’ Alan agreed, looking around for Frankie. He reached out to push the door open as Sarah grabbed his arm.

  ‘Listen,’ Sarah hissed. ‘Can’t you hear it?’

  ‘Hear what?’

  ‘Bells. Like jingle bells,’ she released his arm.

  Alan shook his head. ‘I can’t hear anything. You’ve probably caught tinnitus from the flight.’

  ‘No, listen,’ she whispered grabbing his arm again.

  Alan put his head to one side. ‘Nope, can’t hear anything. Like I said, you’ve probably caught tinnitus.’ He turned away from the door. ‘You’ll probably have to spend the rest of your life with an irritating whine in your ears. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re already used to that from Giles.’

  ‘You can’t catch tinnitus,’ Sarah said, refusing to be drawn into a discussion over her boyfriend. ‘You develop it.’

  Alan shook his head and pushed the door open.

  ‘OK, I can hear bells now,’ he said, standing in the doorway.

  Sarah stepped alongside him. ‘Not tinnitus then?’

  Alan shook his head. ‘Definitely not tinnitus, look.’

  Sarah stared open mouthed. Every person in the bar seemed to be covered in bells. Shoes, hats, coats, even sleeves were adorned in a variety of tiny little bells. Every person jingled as they moved. However, it wasn’t so much the jingle bells Sarah noticed. It was the fact that everyone in the bar looked to be under four feet tall.

  ‘Ah’, Alan said.

  Some of the small people looked at the new arrivals, conversations suspended as they studied the newcomers. Alan briefly wondered if a piano had stopped playing as they had entered. On closer inspection he noticed that everyone had pointy ears and a fair few had red rosy cheeks.

  ‘Just go to the bar and try and blend in,’ Sarah whispered.

  ‘Just try and blend in? It’s like Lord of the fucking Rings in here.’

  ‘Go before we start drawing attention to ourselves,’ Sarah ordered.

  ‘I’m two foot taller than anyone else in here, how do I not draw attention to myself? Perhaps I should kneel down and start singing Hi Ho…’

  Shaking his head Alan headed to the bar with Sarah in tow. He tried to avoid making eye contact, which as it turned out was rather easy seeing as everyone else in the bar only came up to his waist.

  Sarah went to find a table while Alan waited for the barman to take his order.

  ‘Well, what do you think of this place son?’

  Alan looked to his left where Frankie had just appeared. ‘Where did you go?’ He asked.

  ‘I came straight here. Do you know what this place is?’

  ‘Let me see,’ Alan paused, looking around the room. ‘Is it a reunion of the cast of The Hobbit? A freak show, or a gathering for those didn’t follow the yellow brick road?’

  Frankie laughed. ‘Don’t be daft. It’s an elf bar.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘An elf bar. It’s where Santa’s little helpers come when they’re not working.’

  Alan stared at Frankie. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Look around you. It’s obvious,’ Frankie waved his arms in the general direction of the mass of tiny people.

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘Simple really, I wandered around, listened to a few conversations and worked it all out.’

  ‘But an elf bar..?’

  Frankie nodded. ‘Yep,’ he nodded at several elves in the corner. ‘You see that one in the blue jumper?’

  Alan looked to where Frankie was pointing. ‘What about him?’

  ‘That’s Buddy. He’s in charge of mucking out the Reindeers. See that one over there..?’ Frankie gestured at an elf putting money into a jukebox, ‘that’s Charlie. He works in the mail room. Must be quite a busy job, what with all the letters Santa must get.’

  ‘I must be dreaming,’ Alan said. ‘This is comedy gold.’

  ‘Excuse me.’

  Alan and Frankie looked over to where an elf was dragging a chair to the bar. He positioned it alongside Alan and climbed up onto it so that he could look Alan in the eyes.

  ‘You alright?’ He said, looking Alan up and down.

  ‘Me? Oh, er yes. I’m fine thanks. You OK?’

  ‘Not too bad,’ the elf said. ‘I’m Tufty,’ he offered Alan his hand.

  ‘Alan,’ said Alan, shaking the small proffered hand.

  ‘I haven’t seen you in here before,’ Tufty said.

  ‘I’m just visiting. Thought I’d try out a few bars, and came across this one.’

  Tufty nodded. ‘Oh, right. You been waiting long?’

  ‘A few minutes,’ Alan told him.

  Tufty started banging on the bar. ‘A bit of service would be nice…Today!’ He shouted.

  Alan and Frankie exchanged glances. ‘It’s good to see bar etiquette is the same the world over,’ Frankie mumbled.

  Any further conversation was cut short by the sound of something being dragged behind the bar.

  ‘Finally!’ Tufty said.

  Another small person popped up from behind the bar.

  ‘Can I help you gents?’ The barman asked.

  ‘If he orders shorts I’m out of here,’ Frankie mumbled.

  Alan ordered two bottles of beer and was about to say goodbye when Tufty said, ‘Are you here for the Karaoke?’

  ‘I’m sorry, what?’

  ‘The Karaoke. Are you going to do a song?’

  ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ Alan admitted truthfully.

  ‘Well you should. Everyone does.’ Tufty looked around. ‘Are you with her?’ He asked, pointing at Sarah who was sitting at a corner table looking a little uncomfortable.

  Alan nodded. ‘Yeah, she’s a friend of mine.’

  ‘You should do it with her.’

  Frankie laughed. Alan chose to ignore him.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Alan said. ‘She’s very shy.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Tufty said, and produced a scruffy piece of paper from his pocket. ‘Pick a song from this list, you’ll be on in a minute.’

  Alan looked at the list while Frankie looked over his shoulder.

  ‘I can’t sing any of these. Not here,’ he mumbled.

  Frankie put his hand on Alan’s shoulder. ‘Son, she did tell you to blend in.’

  *

  Sarah sat alone at the table. Alan had appeared briefly, handed her a beer, told her that everything was her fault and wandered off, leaving her puzzled and confused.

  She scrolled through her phone, checking over her emails and messages, when an increase in the jingling of bells the other side of the bar caught her attention.

  A man dressed as an elf had clambered up onto a small stage in the corner of the room. He tapped the mic twice. ‘OK everyone, it’s time for the Karaoke…’ The room erupted into applause and whistles. He waited for the noise to subside before he continued. ‘First up is a tourist. So give him a big round of applause and don’t throw anything at him.’

  Sarah sunk back into her chair. She hated Karaoke with a passion. She picked up her phone and went back to her messages.

  ‘Hi Ho,’ a voice shouted.

  ‘Hi Ho,’ the voice repeated.

  ‘Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to work we go, with a…’

  Sarah’s attention was briefly diverted from her phone. She didn’t think the tourist had chosen the most sensitive of songs. She stood up and peered at the stage, where Alan, wearing a pointed hat with bells on, held a microphone in his hand and a toy shovel over his shoulder. He winked at her and began to whistle.

  ‘Hi Ho.’

  *

  A couple of ho
urs and a few beers later, Alan and Sarah arrived back at the hotel, Frankie trudged behind them, grumbling about his feet.

  The automatic doors opened and they were greeted by a smiling Païvi. ‘I guess you found a bar, then?’ she said, putting her book to one side.

  ‘Yep,’ Alan replied. ‘And I did karaoke too. It was brilliant. The bar, not my singing.’

  ‘I can vouch for that,’ Sarah said. ‘It was a strange little place though.’

  ‘Little being the operative word,’ Alan grinned.

  ‘Oh, how so?’ Païvi asked.

  ‘Well, it was full of Elves. Even sitting down I was the tallest person in there. It was an elf bar.’

  Païvi laughed. ‘Good one.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Alan raised his eyebrows.

  ‘It’s a joke, yes?’ Païvi said.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Sarah said. It was a bar full of tiny little people all dressed in elf costumes.

  Païvi laughed again. ‘You are joking with me. You’re comedians. It’s funny.’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Alan said, wanting nothing more to get to his room and grab a couple of hours sleep before heading off to the gig.

  ‘The elf bar,’ Païvi said. ‘It’s a joke we play on tourists. We tell them there’s a great bar that’s full of elves, but we tell people it’s hidden away and difficult to find. It adds to the mystery of the place. Because no such place exists.’

  Alan and Sarah exchanged puzzled looks.

  ‘OK, Païvi, you got us, well done,’ Alan said as he and Sarah made their way to the lifts.

  ‘I knew there was something strange about that place,’ Frankie said.

  Païvi turned at the sound of the voice, seeing no-one there, she shrugged and went back to her book.’

  Chapter 7

  Alan walked slowly across the stage taking in the spacious dining room in front of him. Dozens of round tables, each capable of seating eight people, were laid out ready for the evening’s dinner.

  Frankie sat on a chair at the nearest table to the stage. ‘This is a cut above the dives you normally play. Very nice. Wasted on you though, son.’

  Alan stuck two fingers up at the grinning apparition. ‘Don’t forget this was originally Pekka’s gig. Only the best for Lapland’s most famous resident.’