“So we’re in a time loop now?” he asked.
“That’s right,” said Grumbo, proudly. I made a really big one so there’s plenty of time for your tour.”
“My tour?” enquired Percy, puzzled.
“Didn’t I say? You got the lucky five pence piece in the Christmas pudding so you get a tour of the Father Christmas Training School as your prize.”
“Training School? You mean there’s more than one Father Christmas – you’re not the only one?”
“Of course there’s more than one! You didn’t imagine anyone could possibly deliver all those presents on their own in just one night, even with time loops, did you? Besides, hadn’t you noticed when you go into stores at Christmas that the Father Christmases are all a bit different? Some of us are slim like me,” (Grumbo pulled in his stomach and preened himself a little), “and some are fat, some tall and some short, some blue eyed and some brown. -You’re not very observant, are you,” said Grumbo, disparagingly.
“Yes, but they’re not real Father Christmases, are they?” protested Percy.
“Real! Of course they’re real! As real as you and I! Dear me! They aren’t the Chief Father Christmas, if that’s what you mean. The CFC gave up doing store work fifty or a hundred years or so ago when his gout began to trouble him.”
“I thought…” Percy fell silent for a moment: “Well, thought, -I thought it wasn’t really true. I thought there was only supposed to be one Father Christmas but that he wasn’t real anyway.”
“It sounds to me as though you didn’t really know what you thought!” declared Grumbo, a little huffily. “Do I look unreal? It’s a bit insulting you know, to be told by some young whippersnapper that you’re not real”
“I, - I didn’t mean to insult you,” said Percy, anxious to put things right. “It’s just that it is a bit confusing,” he added apologetically. “Have you always been a Father Christmas?”
“Only for the last hundred and fifty years,” replied Grumbo. “It’s my anniversary next month,” he concluded, proudly.
“A hundred and fifty years!” said Percy in astonishment. “But you’re not that wrinkled! “
“Wrinkled!” roared Grumbo.“Wrinkled!”
“- and you look so young!” added Percy, hastily telling a white lie. “Er, when is your anniversary?”
“On the 12th January – that’s when I passed my Advanced Silent Chimney Climbing finals. I was top of my year,” declared Grumbo, mollified by Percy’s interest. “Oh, we did things properly in those days! None of these special aids and continuous assessment like the youngsters have today. If you didn’t climb your chimneys correctly on the day of the exam, that was it. No nonsense about having a cold and not being able to help sneezing, or being late because the reindeer were on strike. You either passed or you went back and re-sat the whole course.”
“How long did it take – for the course I mean?” asked Percy.
“Five years,” replied Grumbo. “It was hard work, I can tell you, young Percy!”
“Five years!” exclaimed Percy, wondering how anyone could possibly spend a whole five years learning to climb up and down a chimney. After all, he’d done it in a night! Grumbo glanced down at him and guessed what he was thinking:
“We don’t just do silent chimney climbing,” he explained. “There are all sorts of things to learn before you can become a fully qualified Father Christmas. It’s a highly skilled job, you know. –But you’ll see when we get there. Not long now!”
Percy looked out over the edge of the sleigh. They seemed to be descending rapidly, though it was difficult to tell as the snow had become even thicker, if that were possible. He could just make out Rudolph’s antlers ahead of them and the faint glow from his nose. Certainly they were moving incredibly fast. As he stared out, he began to discern some sort of huge wall or cliff ahead of them. It looked as though Rudolph was going to go straight into it! Faster and faster they went. The sleigh turned slightly and rocked to and fro, presents slithering across the floor as Rudolph’s speed continued, unchecked. Percy clutched his seat in panic. The enormous black wall was coming towards him! It was only metres away! They would hit it any minute! They were going to crash!
“Don’t worry,” said Grumbo’s voice, reassuringly. He seemed to have read Percy’s mind. “It’s always a bit bumpy when we come off the Windway, but we won’t hit anything. Rudolph’s an expert at this, but he does get a little over enthusiastic once the scent of the brussel sprouts reaches him, especially after a long journey.”
Just as Percy’s hand went anxiously to his seat belt to check that it was safely fastened, the sledge took a sudden dive, jerked a little and swerved as it followed Rudolph into a dark narrow cave slit half way up the cliff.
*****
Suddenly there was no snow; no whiteness or whirling flakes. The walls were deep black and glistening wet. Percy blinked, adjusting his eyes. They were still travelling faster than he’d ever travelled before, but a soft muffling darkness enclosed them with just small subdued glints of light bouncing off the sides here and there. It felt as if they were moving through a thick dark fog, as indeed they were.
Gradually the reindeer slowed down and the mist began to clear. At the same time, tiny lights began to appear on the walls, more and more of them as they progressed. The air was warmer. Percy began to feel the painful prickle of blood returning to his numb icy feet. He’d forgotten how cold he was. The snow which had fallen onto his pyjamas had melted and they felt uncomfortably damp. Percy shivered and looked enviously at Grumbo, in his thick red jacket. Grumbo glanced at him:
“Hmm,” he said, thoughtfully, rummaging amongst the parcels and murmuring under his breath: “Mr Parry – socks, Mr Patel – umbrella, ah yes, Mr Pettit – slippers.” With that, he handed two parcels to Percy. “Try those. You need something on your feet.”
Percy pulled out a pack of three pairs of M & S socks, black, extra large, and a pair of red and blue wool slippers, size 10.
“They’re a bit big,” he said, doubtfully.
“Put them all on,” suggested Grumbo. “Then they’ll fill up the extra space in the slippers.” Percy did as he was told, and he was just wondering if it would be possible to walk at all without the slippers falling off, when the sleigh swung round a corner and they came to a sudden halt before a tall thick pointed oak door with enormous metal hinges on one side. Rudolph bent his head and knocked with his antlers three times.
Chapter 7 – Breakfast!
“Come in dear, come in,” said a cheerful motherly voice. Rudolph pulled the door handle round with a twist of his head and pushed it open.
“I’ll be off then. See you later, Perce! Cheerio!” - And with that Rudolph shuffled off his reins and raced rapidly away down the other corridor.
“After sprouts again!” said Grumbo, climbing out. “Thinks of nothing but his stomach, that reindeer!”
Percy was too busy gazing in front of him to pay attention.
Before them was a small round room with a blazing fire and a sofa covered in cushions of every hue. In the middle of it sat a tiny kindly looking woman with grey curly hair and a red fluffy cardigan. Her glasses were shaped like half moons and she wore a white shawl over her shoulders and a pair of furry slippers. By her side was a large basket of what appeared to be socks and there was a needlework box standing next to the sofa. She was knitting very rapidly, though she seemed to have far more needles than was usual.
“Goodness gracious!” she exclaimed, looking at them over the top of her glasses and catching sight of Percy’s feet. “What has he been doing to you, poor boy! Grumbo, you are an absolute disgrace! Come by the fire, Percy. You must be frozen!” She glared at Grumbo fiercely. Percy shuffled carefully towards her, the slippers flapping and threatening to fall off at every step.
“Sorry, Nanny,” said Grumbo, shamefaced.
“No coat, no shoes, wrong night – really Gr
umbo! Never mind, Percy. You come and get warm again. Now just sit here by me.” She patted the sofa. “I’m Nanny Christmas. Grumbo, don’t just stand there you great lozzocking lump! Go and get Percy a cup of hot chocolate, and no dilly dallying. – Oh and bring a towel – and don’t forget to comb your beard!” she called as Grumbo hastened out of the door.
“Now, Percy, make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you,” said Percy, politely as his pyjamas began to steam and the melted snow dripped off his hair. He thought Nanny looked just a little bit like Mrs Doggett, only she was much smaller and her face had a lot more kind crinkles in it.
“Socks!” she said.
“Er, pardon?” answered Percy, wondering if he had heard correctly.
“Socks! What size are you? No, you don’t know. Boys never do.” She answered herself, peering at his feet. “Never mind.” She hooked a fresh ball of wool from a pile on the floor and began to knit at a furious pace, the wool disappearing between the needles as if something was consuming it.
“Here you are, Nanny. I got one for you too,” said Grumbo’s voice. He placed a tray with three mugs of steaming hot creamy chocolate on the table and handed them out. Percy clasped his gratefully. It tasted absolutely delicious and was exactly the right temperature; not so hot that it burnt his tongue, but warm enough to send a wonderful cheerful glow all the way down.
“Now dry your hair,” said Nanny, not ceasing her knitting as she handed him the towel, “-and take those ridiculous things off your feet.” Percy meekly obeyed. “There we are,” continued Nanny, removing the last needle from a pair of long grey socks that had grown as if by magic, and snipping the wool. “Put those on,” she commanded. She looked him up and down. “Yes, you’ll do now. Grumbo, you may take him for breakfast, and mind you look after him!” Dismissing them, she delved into her pile of wool and resumed knitting.
Percy, now warm and dry again, felt much better, but the thought of breakfast was good, very good. He wondered what it would be, and if it would be as super as the chocolate had been. Maybe, if he was really lucky, there might be bacon and eggs as well as toast. Even just cornflakes would be welcome. Grumbo was striding along setting a very fast pace through the long cave corridor. It was difficult to keep up. “She’s very kind, Nanny Christmas, isn’t she?” he said, a little breathlessly as they strode along.
“I knew she’d notice your socks,” sighed Grumbo, gloomily, slowing down. “I never get things right!”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Percy. “I didn’t mind at all and I think Nanny likes knitting.”
“She does,” said Grumbo, even more gloomily, now walking along wearily with his head slumped. “But she’ll notice the ones you took off, you see. They weren’t ones that she’d knitted. They came from a shop. Nanny doesn’t believe in shop socks. We have to pretend that the ones we send out as presents are the ones she knits.”
“Oh, I see,” said Percy. “But she can’t knit enough for everyone, can she?”
“She can!” responded Grumbo, heavily. “She knits everything. She knitted me a scarf last Christmas with yellow spots on and the words to Jingle Bells in green. Yellow spots! She said it suited me. I had to wear it for a whole month before the weather turned!” Percy sympathised – he remembered his pink shirt.
“Now I’ll have to find some more socks for Mr Parry, and the shops are so crowded at this time of year and there’s never enough time!” He sighed again.
“You could have these ones back,” offered Percy, “- only they might be a bit grubby. I don’t think my feet were very clean because of the chimneys and so on, but I don’t think they’ll smell very much yet.” At that moment another Father Christmas came hurrying along the corridor the other way.
“Hi Grumbo,” he called “Can’t stop! Got to see the CFC. You’d better hurry up if you want breakfast – The Lane’s open today!” and he raced on down the passage.
“The Lane!” said Grumbo, straightening up and his eyes brightening. “Come on, Percy, run!”
*****
They ran, Percy in his stocking feet following close behind Grumbo so as not lose him, until finally they reached a pair of arched doors with ‘Breakfast Magna’ written across. Percy, who had no idea what ‘Magna’ meant but was expecting to see something like a large café with chairs and tables, gasped in astonishment as the door opened.
There below was a vast network of roads, paths and fields spread out like a huge map. Dotted about moving along the paths or simply sitting down on one of the many benches, were hundreds of Father Christmases. Most of them were carrying plates or bowls as they went. Those sitting down were eating and chatting to each other. The sun was shining and trees and flowers bordered each route, but there were no kitchens or serving hatches visible.
“Follow me,” called Grumbo, who could move with amazing speed for someone so bulky. He shot off on a path to the left, Percy running behind. “This way!” he called, taking a sudden right turn downhill. Then at last he began to slow down and Percy had the chance to look about. He had just begun to realise that the trees and plants were not the ones he was used to, when they reached a signpost with a clock attached saying ‘Oatcake Lane – Open 7- 9’, and Grumbo stopped.
“Just in time,” he beamed, turning to Percy. “-Take a plate,” he added pointing to a tree standing by the gate in the wall where the lane began.
Percy looked under the tree, his eyes searching for piles of crockery, but saw none.
“Not under it,” said Grumbo impatiently “- on it!” Percy looked up. Sure enough there, hanging from the tree were not leaves, but attractive oval plates in different sizes, some green and some white. Grumbo reached out and pulled off the largest he could see. Percy, rather hesitantly, followed suite, choosing a rather smaller size from the lower branches.
“You do like oatcakes, I take it?” asked Grumbo, pushing open the door.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever had one,” replied Percy following him.
The road before them seemed very misty, as though it was steaming in the sun. Along it were wandering dozens of Father Christmases of all shapes and sizes, each with a plate, talking and plucking what appeared from the distance to be extremely large and very dead leaves. The trees that lined the lane seemed to be quite bare and denuded even of the dead looking leaves already. There was hardly any green upon most of them, though there were smaller bushes too. These were covered in bunches of long yellow dangly flowers, rather like catkins from a distance, and there were beds of tall plants with sprays of small round orange blooms as well. As they got closer, Percy saw one of the Father Christmases shake one of these sprays onto his plate, and a shower of orange fell onto the brown leaf below which he then gathered up and began to eat. Percy wondered what they were and what they tasted like.
Oatcake Lane
Grumbo reached up and pulled off one of the enormous blotchy brown leaves and handed it to Percy and then got another for himself. It was curiously soft and floppy, like a thin pale brown pancake, not dry and brittle like old leaves usually are. It was also hot. Percy jumped as he touched it in surprise.
“Cheese or beans?” asked Grumbo, gathering a bunch of the catkin like flowers and rolling them inside the leaf where they began to melt and ooze out of the end with and a distinctly tantalising cheese-like smell. “Can’t make up your mind? - Have both!” With that, he gathered more of the catkins and placed them on Percy’s plate and then taking it from him he held it under one of the orange flowered plants and shook. “There you are,” he said, handing it back with a grin.
Percy looked at his plate. There on top of the brown pancake thing, cheese was undoubtedly melting and beside it a pile of baked beans, all steaming hot! “You roll it up to eat it, like this,” explained Grumbo, suiting the action to the word. “It saves on washing up.”
It smelt wonderful! Percy was so hungry! He eyed it for a second on
ly and then copied Grumbo who was already tucking in. It tasted even more marvellous than it smelled.
“Right,” said Grumbo, brushing the last fragment of his sixth oatcake off his beard. “That’ll do for starters. What would you like next?
“What is there?” asked Percy.
“It all depends on how far you want to walk,” replied Grumbo, who was already moving purposefully towards a path at right angles to them. “You see, we have to keep our strength up or we’d never manage all the deliveries in time on Christmas Eve, so we have to eat plenty, but we have to exercise a lot too or we’d just get unfit and too fat to go down the chimneys. So, we have delicious food, but it’s all in different villages on different roads and paths. It’s very convenient because it means that by the time you reach your next course you feel hungry again. This village is just Breakfast Magna. There’s also Breakfast Parva, which is a bit smaller, Upper Luncheon and Lower Luncheon, Dinner cum Pudding, Dinner cum Soup, Teatime and Greater Teatime and of course, Elevenses, Little Snacking, Munchit Green and Supperton.”
As he spoke they were walking alongside a small stream which fell in a waterfall to a lake below. Taking Percy’s plate, Grumbo bent and put it with his own onto a conveyor belt which led from the path through the waterfall, carrying all the dirty plates which came out clean and sparkling at the other side. What a great idea, thought Percy – no washing up!.
The Wrong Night Page 6