‘Corinne, can you give me your arm?’

‘Corinne?’

Alex drew back the side of the hood to her indignation.

‘Hey, what are you-? Alex! Did you do this?’

‘He slipped on the ice.’

‘Which I wouldn’t have done,’ Jimmy said, ‘if you hadn’t been going too fast to stop.’

‘I was barely doing-’

‘Shut up both of you,’ she said fiercely. ‘This isn’t the time.’

‘Right. I’ll call an ambulance.’

‘No need,’ Jimmy groaned. ‘We were on our way to the hospital anyway. Corinne, let’s just go. I’m sure it’s only a sprain and they can patch me up before I do my stuff.’

He climbed slowly to his feet, holding on to Corinne and refusing all offers of help from Alex. But when Corinne touched his arm he yelled with pain.

‘Be sensible,’ said Alex, tight-lipped. ‘If you don’t want an ambulance I’ll take you. Wait here!’

He strode off to where he’d parked. Jimmy, clinging to Corinne, gasped, ‘Corinne, please, anybody’s car but Alex’s.’

‘Fine. Mine’s just here.’

In a moment she’d opened the door and eased him into the passenger seat. She was starting the engine when Alex drew up beside her.

‘I said I’d take him,’ he yelled.

‘You don’t know the way. Wait for us in the house, Alex.’

She pulled away without waiting for his answer. Muttering angrily, Alex swung around to follow her. He’d just about recognised Jimmy from their wedding. As Corinne’s sole relative he had given her away, but his languishing looks had suggested that he would rather have been the groom.

Soon the main entrance of HawksmereHospital came into view. He followed Corinne and drew up behind her as she was opening the passenger door. From the way Jimmy moved he was more badly hurt than had appeared at first. Alex marched ahead into the hospital and up to the reception desk, emerging a few moments later with an orderly and a wheel-chair.

‘He’s right, Jimmy,’ Corinne said. ‘Let them take you in.’

Jimmy muttered something that Alex didn’t catch, which made Corinne exclaim, ‘To blazes with Santa Claus! It’s you that matters.’

They made a little procession into the hospital, the orderly wheeling Jimmy, Corinne beside them, and Alex bringing up the rear.

Once inside, Jimmy was whisked away to an examination cubicle. Now, Alex thought, he would get the chance to talk to Corinne, but she insisted on going too. There was nothing for him to do but sit down and wait, which he found the hardest thing in the world to do.

Relief came ten minutes later with the whirlwind arrival of an elderly lady of military aspect and forthright manner.

‘Where is he? I was told he’d arrived and we’re waiting for him.’

‘Who?’ asked Alex.

‘Santa Claus. Jimmy. Corinne promised he’d do it, but where is he?’

‘In a cubicle, having his shoulder examined,’ Alex said. ‘He met with an accident.’

‘Oh, dear! I do hope it isn’t serious. That would be most inconvenient.’

‘I dare say he’d find it inconvenient as well,’ Alex said sardonically.

She whirled on him like an avenging fury.

‘It’s easy for you to sit there and mock, but you don’t have a crowd of children who are expecting Santa to arrive with his sack and give out presents, and you’ve got to tell them that he isn’t coming.’

Alex was saved from having to answer this by the arrival of Corinne.

‘Mrs Bradon, I’m so sorry,’ she said at once. ‘Jimmy’s got a broken collar-bone and a cracked rib. I’m afraid he can’t be Santa.’

‘But can’t he be Santa with a broken collar-bone?’ Mrs Bradon asked wildly. ‘The children won’t mind.’

‘It’s being set now. He’s in a lot of pain,’ Corinne explained.

‘Well, they can give him something for that.’

‘They are giving him something, and it’s going to send him to sleep.’

‘Oh, really! That’s very tiresome!’

Alex’s lips twitched. He couldn’t help it. Mrs Bradon’s single-mindedness would have been admirable in a boardroom, but here it was out of place.

‘There must be a way around the problem,’ he said.

‘Like what?’ Corinne confronted him, eyes flashing. ‘This is your fault. You ran Jimmy down, driving like a maniac.’

‘I was doing ten miles an hour, if that. He slipped on the ice. He always was a slowcoach.’

‘Well, he can’t be Santa, whatever the reason, and it was your car.’

The sheer injustice of this took his breath away.

‘What does it matter whose car it was if I didn’t hit him?’

‘Jimmy says you did.’

‘And I say I didn’t.’

‘Will you two stop making a fuss about things that don’t matter?’ Mrs Bradon said crossly. ‘We have a crisis on our hands.’

‘Surely not,’ Alex said, exasperated. ‘How hard can it be to play Santa? A bit of swagger, a ho-ho-ho or two- anyone can do it.’

‘Fine!’ said Corinne. ‘You do it!’

‘I didn’t mean-’

‘What a wonderful idea!’ Mrs Bradon cut across him. ‘You’re about the same height so the costume will fit you. You have got it?’ This was to Corinne.

‘Yes, it’s in the car. And you’re right, the size is fine.’

‘I’m sure you don’t need me,’ Alex said defensively. ‘This is a hospital. There must be a dozen men around-’

‘There are a hundred,’ said Mrs Bradon firmly. ‘But they are doctors, nurses, ward orderlies. Which one of them do you suggest should be taken off his duties to save you from having to do your duty?’

‘It’s hardly my-’

‘You deprived us of our Santa Claus,’ said Mrs Bradon implacably. ‘It’s your job to take his place!’

‘Look, ladies-’

Alex met Corinne’s eyes, seeking her support. But she was looking at him angrily.

‘After all,’ she echoed him, ‘how hard can it be? A bit of swagger and a ho-ho-ho or two.’

‘All right, all right,’ he snapped.

‘Splendid!’ Mrs Bradon hooted triumphantly. ‘You’d better get to work right away. Corinne will show you what to do. Hurry up!’

She bustled away.

‘You’re finding this very funny, aren’t you?’ Alex growled.

‘It has its moments. When was the last time someone spoke to you like that without you flattening them in return?’

‘I can’t remember,’ he admitted.

‘I’ll get the costume and you can get to work.’

‘Corinne, wait.’ He detained her with a hand on her arm. ‘Must I really do this? Surely-’

‘Aha! Backing out!’ She began to cluck like a hen.

‘I am not chicken,’ he said furiously.

‘Sez who?’ she jeered. ‘You’re just afraid you’re not up to it. That’s the first time I’ve heard you admit that there is something you can’t do better than the next man.’

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