Page 69 of Big Nick Energy

‘So you’re nottheSanta but you’re also called Santa?’ Anya continues.

‘Yes.’

‘Doesn’t that get confusing?’

‘Sometimes.’

I guess it’s akin to when you’re half-dating two people called Nick. I smile at these small people getting the better of him.

Nick bends down to their level. ‘I’m just here to say hello. Are you being good tonight?’ They both nod tentatively. ‘I remember when I was little and got tired. Here…’ He reaches into his pocket to find them each a chocolate coin, placing them in their tiny palms. ‘And one for Mummy and Daddy too, because they do a very special job, wouldn’t you agree?’

He’s magic – all four of them listening, even the baby has quietened. Passers-by stop to look at this spell he’s weaving.

‘So you report back to Santa?’ Louie asks.

‘Yes, I have elf blood.’

‘So you make toys as well?’ Anya asks.

‘I do. We are crafting you some very cool Nike Predators,’ Nick says.

Anya inhales sharply. ‘For me?’

Nick nods, smiling. ‘And we’re crafting some special musical instruments for Louie here too.’

Louie’s dad’s eyes widen in confusion. I cock my head to one side.

‘Why?’ asks Louie.

‘Because you play the capybara?’ Nick says.

I laugh and step away from my table to approach them. ‘Santa, you are funny.’ I turn to him for a moment. ‘A capybara is like a giant bear-pig animal. Like a swimming wombat,’ I whisper, and his eyes widen.

‘I was just joking,’ he says, turning back to Louie.

‘You’re sending me a capybara?’ he says, his eyes lighting up.

‘Is that possible?’ he asks me out the side of his mouth.

‘No, they live in zoos,’ I say quickly, impressed by my own ventriloquism.

‘We’ve sewn you one. A very special one,’ Nick says, Louie’s parents looking instantly relieved.

‘Who are you?’ Louie asks me.

‘This is my wife,’ he says, so casually. I could also be of elf blood, another of Santa’s assistants, but instead it would seem I am Santa’s wife. He’s joking. It’s all an illusion. This, what we have. I sigh deeply and smile at this boy and girl looking up at me.

‘You don’t look like a Mrs Claus,’ Anya says.

Yeah, that’s because I’m in fifty-percent Zara but let’s roll with this, little one.

‘I just make sure Santa is looked after. That he always has a supply of milk and cookies,’ I say. ‘And that he remembers to take out the bins.’

The children laugh. That was all me. ‘I have a drawing for Santa,’ Anya says. ‘The real one, not you. In this drawing, he’s fat and got a big beard. Could you give it to him?’ she asks Nick, walking up to him.

Nick nods and she puts the drawing in his hands, scanning his face. ‘If you know Santa then name all the reindeer,’ she quizzes him.

‘Rudolph, Comet, Blitzen, Vixen, Dancer, Prancer, Cupid, Dasher and…’