Magic & Miracles
A sleepy elf needs help
You still not sleeping well?” “No, Mum.” Tara yawned. Trying to function the next day at the department store where she had a seasonal job as a Christmas elf was getting to be an art form in itself.
“Maybe you need a nice man to wrap your arms around,” her mum said with a twinkle in her eye. Tara shook her head firmly. “I’m too tired for romance.” Truth be told, she still felt jaded after a break-up three months earlier. “Hopefully I’ll sleep better tonight. The body has to reset itself sometime, doesn’t it?”
“Of course, it does,” her mum said comfortingly. “And don’t give up on the
She COULDN’T BELIEVE she was GOING THROUGH with this CHARADE
idea of finding someone nice. I know being in a relationship isn’t the be-all and end-all, but the next man you meet could be The One.”
“Yeah, right.” Tara sighed, not convinced. Trouble was, she seemed to go into relationships with sprinkles of stardust in her eyes instead of having them wide open on the look-out for idiots. Someone had once called her an idealist.
Whatever. It just never seemed to work out. Instead of Prince Charming, she seemed to end up with Shrek. Or rather, she corrected herself, the other way around – remembering the story of Shrek and what a vile person Prince Charming had turned out to be.
Her parents were lucky to have fallen in love so easily.
“You just need to find your one true love, like me and your dad,” her mum continued. “Write a letter to Santa, like you did when you were a little girl. Ask him for some sleep, and to bring you someone nice. That’s what I did, and that very Christmas I met your dad.”
Tara smiled fondly as she watched her mum’s eyes glaze over in memory.
“It was a cold, frosty night, and I’d gone to the local church hall for the weekly dance. I had on my red velvet dress, hair all piled up high on my head.” Her mum waved her hands haphazardly in an upward motion. “I walked into the hall and your dad immediately sidled up, asking me to dance. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. So, get out your notepad. No typed letters to Santa, please – he likes the personal touch. Make it heartfelt, and post it off. Santa always delivers.”
Tara eyed her mum with a disparaging look.
“I’m twenty-four. I think I’m a bit too old for Santa to help now.”
“Trust in Christmas miracles. What have you got to lose?”
“Fine! Just don’t expect son-in-law material to appear for Christmas lunch,” Tara said, giving in to shut her mum up.
Feeling a bit of a fool, she found some old notepaper shoved in her desk drawer that evening. Pink with hearts on. Goodness only knows how long it had been stuck in there. Scrabbling for a pen, she found a scratchy blue Biro.
What am Idoing, writing aletter to Santa? She shook her head, unable to believe she was actually going through with the charade. Addressing the envelope to Santa Claus, Santa’s Grotto, The North Pole, she put it ready for posting the next day.
Unfortunately, sleep still proved elusive. Eyeing herself in the mirror the
next morning, she made a face at her reflection. Inky circles encompassed puffy eyes. Full of good tidings and joy she definitely wasn’t. She felt more like the Grinch.
“You’re supposed to look happy. You are a Christmas elf,” her boss said, shoving a clean outfit into her hands to change into.
Having donned her mandatory get-up, she made her way towards Santa’s grotto. At least the powers-thatbe had chosen glamour over a traditional elf’s outfit. The red dress suited her slim figure and she didn’t have to wear pointy ears.
Affixing a smile to her face, she readied herself for the day ahead. If I’d thought about it, Icould have saved the postage and given the damn letter to Santa instead, she thought wryly.
With a slight grimace, Tara eyed the hordes of screaming children, all clamouring for whoever had been hired to play Santa for the last week before Christmas. She’d been told by one of the other girls that the last Santa couldn’t do this final week, as he was off on holiday to the Bahamas.
All right for some, Tara thought sourly. Maybe he’d written his own personal letter to Santa requesting a holiday! Her splitting headache from another bad night seemed to intensify with the cacophony of noise. She could hear Santa Claus is Coming to Town booming out over the speakers. Lovely song though it was, after the seventh or eighth playing, it was beginning to jar.
Herding in one excited child after another, she began to feel as if she was on some mad tinsel-decorated conveyor belt.
“Looks like you could do with a rest!” Santa grinned up at her from an oversized red sparkly throne as she showed in yet another excited child.
“Tell me about it,” Tara said with feeling. “I’m not sleeping at the moment as it is.” As she met his vibrant blue eyes, her heart gave a sudden jolt.
“Maybe you should ask Santa for some sleep,” he suggested with a lift of one bushy white eyebrow.
“I only posted my letter to him this morning, I don’t think he works that quickly,” she quipped.
A small boy who’d been waiting impatiently, tugged on Tara’s hand.
“Santa can do anything. You should know that,” he piped up.
Santa nodded solemnly. “You have to believe in magic for it to work.”
Tara gave him a hard stare, before turning to the next over-excited child.
By the end of the day her feet felt sore, the painkillers she’d slugged at lunchtime had worn off, and she felt totally punch-drunk with false bonhomie.
The sparkling fairy lights were beginning to increase the pounding in her head, and she couldn’t wait to get home to a nice quiet flat, have a relaxing bath, and hopefully some sleep.
Heading to the changing room, one of the other girls grabbed her.
“Tara! Come and have a quick drink. It’ll be a laugh.”
Tara started protesting, but the others insisted and she found herself being led towards the pub next door. She sent up a silent prayer that maybe a few drinks might help her insomnia.
“You know Nick, right?” one of the others introduced her to a tall, goodlooking, casually-dressed man with a mop of dark hair. Tara felt her heart jolt for the second time that day. Before she could say actually no, Idon’t, the other girl had vanished.
“Umm, hi, I’m Tara.” Looking up at his handsome face, she had a weird feeling she’d met him before but she couldn’t remember where.
“I know.” Nick smiled in amusement. “I’m playing Santa.”
“I thought those blue eyes looked familiar,” she grinned, feeling glad she’d made the effort to go along for the evening after all.
“I like to get to know all my elves.” He winked. “You OK? Only you didn’t seem very full of Christmas spirit today and you look so tired.”
“Oh, thanks,” Tara retorted, before explaining that she’d been suffering with sleepless nights for the past month now and was getting thoroughly fed up of it.
“It’s like being the opposite of Sleeping Beauty,” Nick grinned. “Yeah, Wide-Awake Zombie!” “Not at all,” Nick said. “You’re still beautiful. It just makes you look more fragile.” A faint blush spread over Tara’s face. “Thanks. I think!” They chatted for a bit longer before Tara reluctantly eyed her watch. “I better go. It’s going to be another busy day tomorrow with only three days to Christmas Eve.” “Can I drive you? Car’s not far away.” “Thanks, but I only live around the corner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Waking the following morning Tara realised she had actually got some sleep. Maybe those drinks last night helped, she thought. She was even looking forward to going to work.
Exchanging banter with Nick as she dutifully presented him with another child desperate to tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas made the day far more enjoyable, her heart suffusing her with a deliciously warm fuzzy feeling as she walked the familiar festive route.
Looking into the mirror as she changed, she noticed her cheeks now had a rosy glow, and her eyes didn’t seem quite so dull.
No one seemed to be going for drinks, and she couldn’t see Nick about, so she headed home for the relaxing bath she’d promised herself the previous evening. It seemed to help, as once again, she slept much better.
Changing into the well-worn outfit the following day, a big grin spread over her face at the thought of seeing Nick again. Happily, she escorted a rather sulky looking six-year-old and his frazzled mum towards Santa’s grotto.
But her joy plummeted like a stone as her gaze met a pair of brown eyes instead of Nick’s sparkling blue ones. Where was Nick?
She grabbed one of the other girls at her first opportunity, only to be told she didn’t know. “Maybe he’s off sick or something.” Intense disappointment swept through her. She and Nick hadn’t even swapped numbers. Not that he’d asked – she’d just been hoping.
Asking a fellow elf as they changed, she was told the same. No one seemed to know where Nick was.
Christmas Eve loomed frosty and cold. Dragon’s weather, Tara thought, remembering what her mum had used to call the air when she was a child. The sort of silvery wisps of air where you could see the breath puff out in front of your face as you exhaled.
Reaching the department store she changed into her outfit, desperately hoping that Nick would be there for the last day. Her sleep had once again been much better, as she’d told her mum on the phone.
“Ahh, so Sleeping Beauty has returned. Have you found your Prince Charming yet?”
“I think it’s more my body readjusting,” Tara said, not wanting to mention Nick. Anyway, it had to be just her normal sleep pattern returning, as there was no other logical answer.
Christmas Eve predictably proved busier than ever. Obviously, some parents left it to the last minute to take their little darling to visit Santa’s grotto.
Although of course Tara saw Santa, it was never head-on. Just the back of his head, or a glimpse of red. She didn’t even get a chance to ask the other elves as they were run off their feet in the Elf World.
Feeling ridiculously crestfallen at not seeing Nick, Tara gathered her things ready to leave. Obviously not meant to be, she thought sadly.
Stepping out into the crisp night air, she was gazing in awe at the sea of stars sparkling above when she heard her name being called.
Turning, she met the gaze of a pair of piercing blue eyes. Nick!
“I’m glad I caught you,” he grinned. “I never got your number. Maybe we can meet up after Christmas? I’m heading home to my parents tonight, but I’ll be back on the twenty-seventh if you’re free.”
Tara beamed. “That would be fab,” she said, pulling off a cherry-red glove to punch her number into his phone.
“By the way, you look as though you may have caught up on some sleep. Santa been working his magic already?”
Sudden realisation hit. Sleep had been much better and romance now beckoned. Both her requests to Santa had been answered.
“Yes – I’m beginning to think that there might really be a Santa Claus after all,” she grinned.
They exchanged deep, knowing looks, and Nick moved closer.
“Were you ever in any doubt?” he asked, gently pulling her towards him.
Neither of them noticed a passing reindeer-pulled sleigh as it sped across the velvety dark sky with a ho, ho, ho echoing as it disappeared as if by magic.
“You’re still BEAUTIFUL. Tiredness just makes you LOOK more FRAGILE”