by Alice Webb
know–’
‘Come on,’ said Alma. ‘That isn’t important now. We were going to check the staffroom, weren’t we? Remember?’
‘But I … fine.’ Harold stalked away and Alma followed, after giving Chris a reassuring look.
‘You were a bit hard on him,’ she said as they waited for the lift. The doors opened and they stepped inside.
‘Was I? I guess it’s just not what I expected of him – he was so good when he started, and reliable. But there have been a few murmurings about them lately and now if he’s starting to think he’s got more authority. I mean, he is just a Christmas Santa.’
‘Maybe Matt was really seriously ill? If he was then surely you’d prefer he was upstairs than throwing up on the children?’
‘Maybe,’ Harold admitted, ‘I hadn’t seen him today so I wouldn’t know.’
‘Harold,’ a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair approached them before they opened the staffroom door. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Billy. It’s not your shift today, is it?’
‘No, just shopping. Gotta keep the missus happy, you know what they’re like, and she keeps on that she needs yet another handbag to go with her other fifty. So what’s going on? I saw the crowd downstairs.’
‘Didn’t you look?’ said Alma.
Billy shrugged. ‘Probably a teenager that nicked something. It happens.’
‘I’m afraid it’s much more serious than that,’ said Harold. As he told Billy the sad news Alma looked around the shop floor. It was empty except for them, since the accident had stopped anyone new from entering and anyone who had popped in before had either bought their goods or was part of the downstairs spectators. Her gaze drifted to Billy, whose broad frame was layered in baggy hoodies and scarves. In the warmth of the store she had nearly forgotten how cold it was outside.
‘That’s awful,’ said Billy. ‘Hey, you should probably know, I heard shouting earlier.’
‘Shouting?’ said Alma.
‘Yeah, I think it was Matt, now I think about it, coming from the staffroom. I heard him shout “Get out” and “You shouldn’t be in here” but then it went quiet so I guess I forgot about it. Could it be to do with it?’
‘It might be,’ said Harold. ‘Can you hang around in case the police need to ask you about it?’
‘Sorry no, you know what the missus is like if I’m late. But you have my number if you need me and I’m in tomorrow.’
‘Another Christmas helper?’ muttered Alma as they walked away.
‘You guessed it. We take on a lot of seasonal staff.’ Harold punched the security code into the staffroom door before pulling it open, and they were suddenly blasted by the jolly voices of carols. ‘Sorry. You know I don’t get it. Staff complain about hearing Christmas songs in the store, and then they play them in here.’
‘It’s a bit different when you’re obligated to listen,’ Alma smiled, ‘especially when it’s the same twenty over and over. But that is very interesting.’ She slowly followed him up a narrow steep staircase that curved around the corner. ‘I didn’t think much of him, by the way.’
‘Billy? Like I said, we take on a lot at Christmas so we can’t be too picky, but he’s alright, always in on time and we’ve had no proper complaints. It’s funny that you say that though, Alma, because he’s a suspect in the thefts we’ve had. Just a hunch though, since our cameras are still down and I can’t just go accusing people left right and centre.’
‘Don’t staff get searched?’
‘Of course they do. But if they had turned up anything we wouldn’t have a theft problem, would we?’
‘No need to get snappy. You don’t pay my wages.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s been a lot of stress.’
‘I bet.’
They stopped talking when they reached the staffroom. The room itself looked immaculate, with the chairs tucked in and the notices and staff rotor pinned on the board at perfect ninety-degree angles. Alma expected nothing else of a store under Harold’s eye. There was a tin of chocolates – all the caramels were sadly gone – open on the small table and a half-empty tall glass of water besides an unopened packet of paracetamol. She shivered. It was cold because of the cruel wind blowing through the smashed window, which made her very glad of her gloves and reindeer scarf.
‘Matt’s exit,’ said Harold grimly, motioning to the window. ‘So why are we here?’
‘To satisfy my curiosity,’ replied Alma, ‘which you will be glad to hear is now satisfied. Let’s go back down. I’m freezing here and you know how us old ladies get about the cold.’
‘Of course I know, since none of you are shy about telling me.’
Harold nearly hit Julia with the door when they went back on to the shop floor, as she had been diligently arranging the jumpers directly behind it.
‘There was no point in me staying down,’ she said in response to their questioning looks, ‘since Roger had the phone anyway. So I thought I might as well do this, what else can I really do?’
‘Good idea,’ said Harold.
They shared a sad smile.
‘You work on this floor, don’t you?’ said Alma. ‘So were you here earlier? Did you see Matt this morning, when he went back up to the staff room?’
‘Yeah. Why?’
‘How did he seem? Was he acting weirdly?’
‘Not really I guess. Actually, I know he was fine because he chatted to me before he opened the door.’
‘Oh? What about?’
‘I can’t remember. Nothing important. Oh, wait, it was about a bauble he was going to buy tonight, of a glittery reindeer head. I thought it sounded awful but he laughed and said that’s why he liked it. Apparently his parents are really rich and have a massive classy tree or something?’
‘He was chatty then?’
‘Oh yeah. Seemed very jolly, more than usual even.’
‘I see,’ said Alma. ‘Sounds about right. Thanks. Jumper display looks great by the way.’ She led Harold down the stairs and muttered to him, ‘I think I’m getting a picture of what happened.’
‘We already know what happened? Matt threw himself out of a window.’
‘If you were going to commit suicide by jumping off a building would you really throw yourself through a pane of glass first?’ she said. ‘Really? Come on, we need to talk to Santa again.’
Chris was still sat in his Santa’s chair, still looking a bit lost. His beard had fallen down under his chin and he looked up glumly when he saw them approaching.
‘Matt was drunk, wasn’t he?’ said Alma. ‘Left over from Winter Wonderland, maybe?’
‘Of course not. He’d get fired for that.’
‘Exactly. That’s why you sent him upstairs claiming he was ill, to give him a chance to sober up. And why the glass of water was needed, but not the paracetamol – that was for show. Since he wasn’t ill, didn’t have a headache, he was just jolly. You were hoping a bit hydration would help him sober up.’
‘No, he was more than jolly,’ said Chris. He sighed. ‘Guess it’s not like he can be fired now, right? Yeah he was drunk. I didn’t notice right away, since he didn’t stink of it, but I knew it when he started mouthing off to the customers. Made a little girl scream at him. He mouths off a lot when he’s drunk, you know, likes to pick fights and says a load of crap to get a reaction.’
‘Hardly appropriate for children,’ said Alma.
‘Hardly appropriate anyway!’ said Harold. ‘I–’
‘Wait,’ said Alma. She looked at a man weighed down with heavy jackets walking towards the exit. ‘Where’s Billy going?’
‘Home I’d imagine,’ said Harold. ‘He’s not working today, remember?’
‘Yes I do.’ She strode over to him with a smile plastered on her face, deliberating standing between him and the door. ‘Hello again! Did you not get your present for your girlfriend?’
‘What?’
‘The handbag. You don’t have a shopping bag.’
‘
Oh yeah, that. I’m going to come back another day for it.’
‘I see,’ Alma smiled brightly. ‘You know, I’ve just come up with a good solution to Harold’s shoplifting problem.’
‘Then you should talk to Harold about that, not waste my time.’
‘That’s the point. I need to start with your pockets, to prove a theory I’ve been playing with about how the missing goods could be transported out. You don’t mind humouring an old woman trying to show her friend up, do you?’
‘I would mind as it happens so move out of my way.’
‘It will only take a minute. Not even that, more like thirty seconds. And, since your pockets seemed to be quite bulky, bulkier than when I saw you earlier in fact, I don’t mind paying the whole 5p to get you a carrier bag to say thank you. So go on, please, for an old lady.’
‘I … um …’
Billy suddenly dashed for the door, dodging around Alma and pushing the security guard out of the way. Unfortunately for him, the security guard was built like a tank, didn’t budge in the slightest and instead tripped him up as he went by. Billy went down like a brick between the alarm barriers, making a respectable thump.
‘Why did he run?’ said Harold.
‘Because he’s the thief,’ said Alma.
‘He can’t be,’ said Harold. ‘The alarms didn’t go off.’
‘Of course they didn’t – he works here. He removes the security tagging while he’s working, hides them in the staffroom and then collects them later when he’s not working so he can leave through the front door.’
There was an exclamation from the guard when a necklace spilled out of Billy’s pocket.
‘And just how did you know that?’