Santa's Secret

by Serenity Woods

  “I’m Tigger.”

  “Tee, I, double-G, rrr,” she said, trying to catch him. “Bounce over here then.”

  He did so, and she stuffed his arms in his coat. He stopped for a moment to let her do up the buttons, and she smoothed down the thick fabric and tugged on the hem. “Oscar, do you like Rudi?”

  He thought about it. “His hair is the same colour as mine.”

  “It is.” How strange. Especially considering Damon had been dark, like her.

  “He rescued Bear,” Oscar stated, and Eva remembered how Rudi had picked the toy up and dusted off the snow.

  “He did,” she said, thinking how such a tiny, innocent gesture meant that Oscar now trusted Rudi completely.

  “Do you like him?” Oscar asked.

  She did up the final button on his coat. “Yes, I do.”

  “I liked his slippers,” Oscar stated, and Eva started to laugh.

  “Yes, they were pretty splendid.”

  “Maybe Santa will bring me a pair,” he asked hopefully.

  “Maybe,” Eva said, wishing she had some for him. “But whatever presents he brings, I’m sure you’ll like them all.”

  “Lego!” Oscar said, and started bouncing again.

  Someone knocked at the front door, and she grabbed his hand. “It depends if you’ve been a good boy! Come on, dinner time.”

  He bounced off the bed and pulled on his boots, and Eva opened the door. Rudi stood there smiling, looking gorgeous in his dark coat, Isabel at his side.

  To Eva’s surprise, Isabel came into the cabin, walked up to her and put her arms around her for a quick hug. Eva stared over the top of her head at Rudi, who looked alarmed.

  “Hello,” Eva said, returning the hug, touched. “Everything okay?”

  Isabel said something in Finnish, then added, “Sorry. I just wanted to say hello.”

  “Hello, back.” Eva grinned. “It’s Christmas Eve! Are we all excited?”

  To Eva’s pleasure, Isabel’s face glowed. “Yes!”

  She bent down to the young boy. “We are going to watch for Rudolph pulling the sleigh tonight, aren’t we, Oscar?”

  “With the sack of presents,” Oscar said. “Santa’s checked them twice.”

  They all started laughing and headed out the door. The kids ran ahead, and Eva locked the door, then held hands with Rudi as they walked down the path.

  “How lovely that she is pretending for Oscar,” Eva said.

  Rudi hunched his shoulders against a breeze, burying his chin in his scarf. “We had a conversation about Christmas magic,” he said mysteriously. “I think she believes in it a little.”

  “Well that’s wonderful,” Eva said, delighted.

  “I suppose.” He glanced at her. “Do you believe in magic, Eva?”

  She smiled. “Not in the wand-waving sort. But I like to think there’s something special in the air at Christmastime. It’s always nice to believe that miracles can happen.”

  “Hmm.” He didn’t say anything else. But his hand held hers tightly.

  They walked to the family restaurant, and Eva discovered that Rudi had booked them a table, thank goodness, as it was quite busy. The elves had worked extra hard on the decorations that night, and silver streamers stretched across the room, intertwined occasionally with greenery brought in from the forest, the red berries bright. Excitement and anticipation filled the air, and the noise level made Eva’s head ring. She exchanged a look with Rudi, and they both laughed. Did either of them really think they would be able to spend Christmas Eve peacefully?

  They sat at their table and decided to order a few different platters to nibble from, and the kids bounded off to the busy play area while they waited for the food.

  Eva leaned an elbow on the table and rested her head on her head. “Kids have so much energy. No wonder I’m exhausted at the end of the day.”

  “Would you like more children?” Rudi asked.

  She studied him for a moment. He sat back in his chair and played with the pepper pot, one hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans. He’d changed into a black jumper that made him look quite different—more dangerous somehow, darker, sexier, even though his blond hair still shone under the lights.

  She looked down and adjusted her cutlery. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I couldn’t cope with another Oscar. One is more than enough! Then I remember how wonderful it was to hold him late at night—even though those early months are exhausting. But they say you shouldn’t have another child just because you want another baby—that you have to think about the practicalities of them being grown up. So I don’t know.” She smiled. “I suppose I have to think about getting a husband first. The rest will follow from that.”

  “You think you will marry again?”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, sitting back. “Maybe, if I meet the right person. You?”

  He looked out the window, at the clear night sky, sparkling with stars. “I do not know either. I used to think I would never marry again. But now… I am not so sure.” His gaze came back to her, and he smiled, with no sign of regret or sadness. What was he saying? That she’d helped him move on from his ex-wife? That now he felt comfortable with the thought of meeting someone else and settling down again?

  She supposed she should be pleased to have served such a purpose, but again, his comment stung. She didn’t need their imminent parting rubbed in. Couldn’t he let her hang onto the magic a little longer?

  Their drinks arrived, and she changed the subject to matters less intimate, talking about favourite Christmas movies, and he seemed content to listen to her talk, observing her with watchful blue eyes. But all the time, she thought, something’s changed. She couldn’t put her finger on what, but he seemed thoughtful, less open than before, his answers to her questions rehearsed and reserved, as if they were both playing a part in a play, with their real relationship secret from the audience.

  The food arrived and they called the kids over, and Isabel chattered away to Oscar, filling the silence that seemed to be growing between them. Eva picked with little enthusiasm at the platters, at the bread and meat, the pickles and cheese, the fish pieces and the hot chicken that Oscar devoured. The magic had gone, she thought; the excited kids seemed raucous and the noise had given her a headache, the lights dazzled her, the food was greasy and made her stomach rumble, and she was too tired to summon up her usual good spirits. After their delightful interlude in the sauna, she’d thought the evening would be wonderful. Instead, she felt flat and deflated. What had gone wrong?

  Oscar—full of chicken and bread and cheese—was growing naughty, spilling salt onto the table and knocking over the decoration in the centre and blowing bubbles in his drink again, so Isabel took him off for one last play.

  Eva opened her mouth to speak to Rudi, wanting—needing—to know what was up. But at that moment, his phone rang.

  Giving her a quick, apologetic smile, he flipped it open and answered it. His smile turned to a frown, and he got up and walked over to the window, speaking in Finnish. Eva watched him, wondering if it was Vanessa, or someone from work with a last minute panic. She’d forgotten he was a businessman with an international company.

  He spoke for a while, massaged his forehead, and then—to her surprise—laughed and nodded, speaking a few more sentences before hanging up. He pocketed the phone and stared out for a brief moment, then turned back to her. He looked wary, she thought.

  He came and sat back down, leaned forwards and took her hands in his. “Armas, I have something to tell you.”

  Uh-oh. “What’s the matter?”

  “I have not been a hundred percent honest with you. I have a little secret.”

  She swallowed. “What do you mean?” Was he still married? Did he have some terrible disease? Her mind played through a hundred possibilities in the space of a second.

  He looked around the room. “It is about Santa’s Secret Village…”

  Her brain screeched to a h
alt. “What about it?”

  “Er…I kind of own it.”

  She stared at him. “Own it?”

  “Well, my father built it, twenty years ago.” He looked relieved now he’d finally said the words. “I have never understood why, because he hated Christmas. He wanted to cash in on the festive sentimentality he saw at this time of the year, and I always hated him for that. I came here with the intention of finding out more about the site. I had planned to sell the place.”

  She’d known he was a businessman, that he was fairly wealthy, but she hadn’t expected anything like this and she felt foolish to think she’d spent the last few days assuming they were both there for nothing more than to treat their children. She should have guessed something was awry when Isabel told her she didn’t believe in Santa. Why would a parent who believed it was okay to tell their seven-year-old that Santa didn’t exist bring them to a place like Santa’s Secret Village? “You should have told me.”

  “Nobody here knew, and after a while I was too embarrassed to admit it. Also, I wanted to see what you thought of it, an honest opinion. I had expected it to be kitsch, full of spoiled children and irritated adults—I thought I would hate the place. But you have shown me the magic of it—that it is possible as an adult to recapture your youth and the joy of Christmas.”

  She couldn’t believe it. She looked around, thinking of the sleigh rides, the Exhibition Centre, the Little Elves and the beautiful cabins. He owned it all?

  Her cheeks flooded with warmth as she remembered how she’d criticised various parts of the complex. He said he’d wanted an honest opinion, but still, she felt embarrassed. His admission symbolised the fact that she knew practically nothing about him, and that her wild imaginings had been way off course. True, he hadn’t lied to her as such, but she still felt foolish, just like Isabel must have felt when that young boy had told her Santa didn’t exist.

  “I am sorry,” he said softly. “I truly did not mean any harm by it.”

  She reined in her anger. He had made no promises to her, and she had not asked for any. He hadn’t done anything wrong except perhaps be a little economical with the truth, and there was no crime in that. There you go again, Eva, jumping in with both feet instead of just dipping your toe in the water.

  “So what are you going to do?” She gestured around the room. “Are you going to sell?”

  “I am not sure; I need to talk to my accountant, draw up some figures, but I think maybe I will not sell. I have grown fond of the place.” He smiled, and she tried to smile back, but she knew it must have come out sad and wistful, because his own smile faded and he gave a little sigh.

  “Listen,” he said, “I need to ask you a favour. Please say no if you want, I will understand. Santa’s Secret Village has a couple of male members of staff who dress as Santa on Christmas Eve to deliver the presents—they have a very careful route planned so they do not bump into each other! But unfortunately we have just heard that one of them has had to go home because his wife is unwell. I finally told the management here today who I was, and they have asked me to stand in for him.”

  She could stop a laugh breaking out at that. “You’re going to be Santa?”

  “Yes, I have agreed. I should only be an hour or so. But when I am done, I can come back to the house and see Isabel and Oscar, if you think that would be a good idea? Deliver their presents. It might be fun.”

  She nodded. “Oscar would like that, I think.”

  “So I wondered if you would mind looking after Isabel for a while? I should be done by maybe eight o’clock, I think. Is that too late for Oscar?”

  “It is late, but he’s had a nap and he’s excited so he’ll probably be up late.” She smiled. “Of course I’ll look after her. But what will you tell her? The truth?”

  He tipped his head. “I will say I have a business meeting, I think. She may guess when I turn up, but I do not think she will tell Oscar.”

  Eva turned as Oscar ran up. “Okay then, we might as well get going.”

  She helped Oscar on with his coat while Rudi explained to Isabel in Finnish that he had to work. The girl’s disappointment showed clearly on her face and Eva heard the words “isa” and “joulu,” which she knew meant “daddy” and “Christmas” respectively. Isabel was clearly complaining something along the lines of But Daddy, it’s Christmas Eve!

  However, when he indicated Eva, obviously explaining she would be looking after her, Isabel brightened and came over to hold Eva’s hand. “Can we play a game?” she asked.

  “Of course. Oscar loves games,” Eva said as they made their way outside. She smiled at Rudi. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

  “Take my phone number,” he said, and read it out to her as she programmed it into her phone. “Just in case.”

  “Stop worrying,” she said when she’d done. “Go and enjoy yourself.”

  He hesitated for moment, then he kissed the top of Isabel’s head, ruffled Oscar’s hair, and finally leaned forwards and kissed Eva’s cheek. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I will send someone to pick up their presents so I can deliver them later. Izzy’s are in the wardrobe beneath my clothes. The door between our cabins is unlocked on my side.” And then he walked off to the main reception.

  Chapter Twenty

  Eva, Isabel and Oscar played every board game in the cabins for over an hour, and then they sat in front of the TV and watched The Polar Express together, cuddled up on the sofa.

  Eight and then nine o’clock came and went, and still the minutes ticked by. Eva sighed. Clearly Rudi had been busier than he’d expected. An elf had come soon after she’d arrived at the cabin to collect the children’s presents, and she’d managed to smuggle them out of Rudi’s front door while the kids were absorbed in a game of Mousetrap. The elf—a beautiful young Finnish girl—had admitted they were flat out with deliveries, which was wonderful but also very stressful for the new Santa!

  Poor Rudi, Eva had thought as she went back inside. Hopefully he wasn’t having too difficult a time with all the over-excited children.

  It got to nine thirty, and then the movie finished. Oscar’s eyes had glassed over, and even Isabel was looking sleepy.

  “Where is Daddy?” Isabel asked sadly.

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” Eva gave her a hug. “But I’m sure what he’s doing must be very important, because I know he wanted to spend time with you.” She scooped Oscar up and carried him over to her bed, speaking to Isabel over her shoulder. “Why don’t you go and get your nightdress on, and then come back in here and we’ll read some Christmassy stories together.”

  Isabel thought that was a good idea, so she went off and got changed, cleaned her teeth, and then came back into the room and climbed into the bed with Oscar. Eva sat between them, propped up on pillows with a handful of books on her lap.

  She read for about twenty minutes, and then closed the final book. Oscar had dozed off, curled up next to her. Isabel was almost asleep too.

  “Do you want to go back to your bed?” Eva asked her quietly.

  “No,” Isabel said, and laid her head on Eva’s lap.

  Eva hesitated, then sighed and stroked the girl’s blonde hair. “Apart from your hair, you don’t look much your father.”

  “Everyone says I look like Mummy,” Isabel whispered.

  “I’m sorry she’s not here,” Eva replied. She felt a wave of sorrow. “If I hadn’t been here, your mother might have come up to stay. I’m sure you would have preferred that.”

  Isabel gave a slight shake of her head. “I would rather have you,” she said. She yawned. “Han on rakastunut sinuun.”

  Eva blinked. That sounded remarkably like the sentence Rudi had murmured to her in the sauna. And unless he’d taught his daughter words he shouldn’t have, it meant that Eva was right, and he hadn’t translated the sentence properly. “Sorry, Isabel, what does that mean?”

  “He is in love with you.”

  Eva’s jaw dropped. “Goodness. What makes you say tha
t?”

  “I asked him if he was, and he said yes.” She sat up suddenly as the door between the two cabins swung slowly open. “Daddy?”

  Eva stared as someone came into the room. He wore a red suit with white trim, a red hat and a long white beard. He obviously wore a lot of padding too because the black belt stretched around a wide waist, and he looked every inch the jolly, rotund figure Eva had seen on nearly every Christmas card.

  “Ho, ho, ho,” he said in a deep, gruff voice. “Are the two children here still awake?”

  Eva shook Oscar, her heart still pounding at Isabel’s words. “Oscar, it’s Santa!”

  The boy stirred and rubbed his eyes, then sat up and stared. His mouth fell open. “Santa?”

  Isabel got to her knees, and Eva watched Oscar’s face as Santa walked up to the bed, carrying two small sacks of presents. “I thought you would be asleep,” Santa boomed, tucking his thumbs into his belt.

  “Are they my presents?” Oscar asked, pointing to the sack.

  “Yes, they are.” Santa put them to one side. “But you must not open them until the morning.”

  Oscar nodded, eyes wide, and continued to stare, hugging Pooh Bear tightly to him. Eva glanced at Isabel, whose eyes were fixed on Santa, wide and puzzled. The man waddled around the bed and deposited her sack on the other side. “Have you been a good girl?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He bent down a little to talk to her. “Your Daddy has been helping the elves sort out all the children’s presents. I hope you are not too angry with him.”

  She stared up into his eyes. And a huge, slow smile spread across her face.

  Eva’s breath caught in her throat as the young girl moved across the bed, put her arms around Santa’s waist and buried her face in his fat stomach.

  His eyes met Eva’s, shining blue, and then lowered as he bent to kiss Isabel.

  She pulled back, and beckoned to Oscar. “Would you like to give Santa a hug, Oscar?”

  He stared up at Santa, who held out his other arm and beckoned. Oscar looked at Bear and, to Eva’s amusement, asked him what he thought, and then quietly scooted across the bed to also give Santa a cuddle.