‘Look what she’s done to my present,’ Marcus wailed at his mother as she came into the room behind Eleanor, halting her retreat.
‘What have you done?’ Grace grasped Eleanor’s shoulders and turned her around to look at her. ‘Just because you haven’t got a big present like your brother,’ she shook her shoulders, ‘you think you can go and ruin it for everybody else?’
Now Eleanor did start to cry.
Jake turned around at the sound of Grace’s voice and saw Eleanor’s tear-streaked face. He was just about to turn onMarcus and thrash him for getting Eleanor into trouble and making her cry when he saw William approaching from the hall, carrying a tray with three tall glasses of squash. His round, red face made him look like Father Christmas without the beard. His big smiling face said he had no idea what he was about to walk in on.
As he entered the room, everyone fell silent.
Eleanor rushed forward and wrapped her arms around William’s legs. Suddenly, everybody was talking at once. All except Jake.
Depositing the tray on the sideboard, William knelt in front of Eleanor.
‘I didn’t do it on purpose, Daddy. I fell.’ Eleanor wiped her runny nose with her forearm.
‘What’s this?’ said her father, lifting her hand with the torn letter.
The words tumbled out. ‘Marcus said Santa lied about using my drawing!’ She sniffed. ‘Then he tore it.’
‘Did not!’ Marcus shouted across the room.
‘Did too.’
‘Did not.’
William sighed. ‘Alright, alright.’ He held up both hands and glanced in Jake’s direction. ‘Jake.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’
Jake knew what he was being asked to do; take sides. He looked from Eleanor to Marcus. One of them was going to get into big trouble. Jake opened his mouth, aware that he could no more choose between them than he could choose to cut off his left hand or his right hand. The result would be the same; the loss would be the same. But the choice was made easy because Jake realised that he didn’t have to choose after all if he simply told the truth: Marcus had torn the letter and wouldn’t give itback. So, he did. They had been warned not to spoil it for Eleanor just because she was the youngest and still believed. Marcus had hurt Eleanor, and Jake wasn’t going to let him get away with that.
William turned to Marcus. ‘Well, young man, do you think an apology is in order?’
‘But she broke my present. She’s the one who should be sorry.’
‘No, I shouldn’t,’ Eleanor threw back, ‘you tore my letter!’
William scooped Eleanor up in his arms. ‘You’re coming with me, young lady.’ He walked to the door and turned around. ‘And you …’ he playfully pointed Eleanor’s left leg at Marcus, ‘you are going to think up a very good apology to give to your sister when she comes back. As for you,’ he then pointed her leg at Jake. Eleanor giggled. ‘You are coming with us.’
Jake jumped up and left Marcus sitting on the floor, staring at the piece of paper in his hand with a very cross look on his face.
Grace left the room too, retreating to the lounge, where no toys were allowed. Jake could hear the television in the lounge as he followed William out of the room.
‘Where are we going?’ Jake said to William’s back as he followed him down the hallway, being careful not to get too close to one of Eleanor’s feet, which was swinging back and forth.
‘Patience, Jake.’
In the back passage by the kitchen door, William unexpectedly opened the door to the cellar. Over William’s shoulder, Eleanor stared at Jake with huge saucer eyes. They were never allowed down there in case they had an accident on the stairs, so this was the biggest adventure ever.
William switched the cellar light on. The stairs were wooden, dusty and very steep.
William turned to Jake. ‘Hold on to the banister, and take one stair at a time.’
Jake watched from the top step as William carried Eleanordown the stairs, placing his hand protectively on the top of her head as he ducked under the ceiling. They both disappeared deep into the bowels of the house.
Jake shivered. He felt scared; scared he might fall down the steep stairs and scared of what might be lurking down there.
