Santa's Revenge: John Hayes #10.5 - A John Hayes Christmas Novella (EBOOK)

Formats: ePub, Mobi, PDF
Devices: Kindle, Apple and Android Devices, Nook and Kobo eReaders, Computers
Series: Book 1, The Hong Kong Trilogy

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“This left?”

“Yes.”

John downshifted with a quick blip on the throttle and made the turn. He glanced over at his mother sitting beside him, looking tiny in the passenger seat despite the car’s small size. Wrapped in a warm winter coat, she seemed even smaller. He smiled, then focused back on the road.

“That house up ahead on the right, the one with the green window frames.”

“Okay,” John acknowledged, slowing as he looked for a place to park. He found a spot, slipped the Porsche into reverse, and backed in smoothly, then glanced at the house across the road. It was a single story red brick building, under a tiled roof. The window frames and the front door were painted in dark green, peeling in places, and the gutters seemed clogged with leaves.

John frowned. The sloping lawn from the house to the road looked overdue for mowing, and the flowerbeds were bare. A single tree stood in the center, its leafless branches stretching out like skeletal fingers. He shrugged. It was winter, not the best time to showcase a garden.

Turning, he looked at his mother. “The city council owns the house?”

She nodded. “Yes. They pay for everything, including the staff. But Mavis is a volunteer.”

John nodded. Mavis was his mother’s friend from Bingo. “Shall we go in?”

Mrs Hayes nodded and reached over, taking his hand in hers. It was cold and bony, reminding John once again how frail his parents had become. 

“Thank you, John. It means a lot. To me, and to Mavis.”

John nodded silently..

“You’ve already done so much for me and your father. I felt bad asking for this, but Mavis had no-one else to turn to… and her son is very unreliable, unlike you.”

John smiled at the flattery. He had hesitated at first, but had given in to his mother’s persistence. How hard could it be? An hour or two dressed as Santa, handing out presents in a care home.

“It’s nothing Mum. The least I can do.”

She gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.

John checked his mirror, then opened his door and climbed out. He paused to adjust his costume, making sure the fake belly sat right, then pulled the fake beard up from around his neck and adjusted it on his face. Despite the winter chill, he was sweating inside the red polyester suit and the beard was making his neck itch.

A mother walked past, pushing her son in a stroller. The boy’s eyes went wide at the sight of Father Christmas climbing out of a red Porsche, and John gave him a wave.

The mother’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

John pulled the red cap from his pocket, pulled it onto his head, then walked around the rear of the car to open his mother’s door. She reached up, taking his hand as she used his support to get out of the low-slung sports car. Pausing for a breath, she smiled up at him.

“You make a good Santa, John.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” John replied, closing the door behind her. Looping his arm through hers, he helped her across the road and then up the gently sloping driveway toward the front door.

As they approached, the door opened, revealing an elderly woman with pink cheeks and a wide smile. She rubbed her hands together in excitement and called out loudly, “Santa Claus, thank you so much for coming.” She winked at John’s mum and stepped aside to let them in.

“Thank you, Carole,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, Mavis,” Carole replied just as softly. “This is my son, John.”

Mavis grasped his arm. “Thank you so much for doing this, John. It means so much to our residents.”

John smiled with his eyes, his mouth not visible under the bushy white fake beard.

Without waiting, Mavis tugged on his arm. “Come, follow me. I’ve got a sackful of presents for you to hand out.”