Bright

“You did it on purpose,” Glenda said just as Bright returned with the box of bulbs. She, Dallas and his dad — Glenda’s son — had turned up and the small group were all gathered around, Lois and Glenda in the middle of everything, look- ing frosty. “You knew Dallas and Mary were an item and you couldn’t bear the thought that I might get to have her as my daughter-in-law.”

“Rubbish,” Lois said. “It was a coincidence, and I would have thought you might have a little more concern over the fact that I fainted ...” She picked up a plate off one of the card tables. “In fact, it was probably your baking that did it.”

Glenda clutched at her throat. “What on the earth are you saying?” Her eyes widened rather dramatically. “Are you im- plying I poisoned you?”

“Now, ladies,” said Jerry stepping in between them, “let’s not say anything we might regret.”

“Perhaps a nice cup of tea?” Mary suggested.

Klaus took a piece of shortbread off the plate Lois was still holding and bit into it.

“Tastes fine to me,” he said. He sat down in a chair to fin- ish it, pulling a notebook out of his pocket and resting it on his belly to make a note with a pencil tucked in behind his ear and mostly obscured by the mop of grey hair he was now sporting.

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth,” Lois said, thrust- ing the plate at Glenda rather forcefully. “I was merely say- ing that these are excessively sweet for my taste. That much sugar could have been the reason I fainted.”

“Well, I never.” Glenda’s voice was dangerously low. “I’ve never been so insulted in my life.” Her fists curled by her side.

Was it his imagination, or were Lois and Glenda squaring off to have an actual punch-up? It felt like everyone might start chanting ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ any minute. A little part of Bright’s brain wondered who would win.

“Look, this all seems a bit much over a harmless kiss,” he said. Even though it had been rather more than that for him. If all the residents hadn’t been there, it felt like it might have

“Nan, this is nuts,” Dallas said. “Mary and I barely know each other.” He turned to look at Mary. “Not that you’re not very nice, you are,” he smiled.

“Likewise,” she said. Bright could feel a growl running up the back of his throat.

“But in any case, I’m with Akira. If Mary and Bright want to kiss, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“It’s about more than the kiss,” Glenda insisted. “Lois has been rude to me since I got here.”

“Only because you’re after her man,” Bets said. There was an uncomfortable silence. Jerry looked mortified, Glenda and Lois were still glaring, and everyone else had become very interested in the artwork around the room. Several peo- ple sidled out, Bets included. Klaus was still jotting things down in his notebook. All the shortbread was gone.

“It shouldn’t take more than half an hour,” the locksmith had assured him, so Bright was hovering around outside Klaus’s house, both to wait for the guy to be done, and half keeping an eye out to make sure Klaus didn’t come home and catch him. It was like being a teenager again, keeping watch while Bern siphoned the top off all his dad’s booze.

He wasn’t really doing anything wrong — if the key to the garage was lost, it needed to be recut, but he still felt a little guilty, like he was invading Klaus’s territory or privacy or

The cat was back. He clawed insistently at Bright’s pant leg until Bright crouched down and gave him a pat, then rolled onto his belly and started to purr. He was a bit of a smooch for such a battle-worn tom.

“All right then, Buddy,” Bright crooned. “I’ll give you a rub. Look at that belly, you handsome man, all fluffy and ginger.” There was a dry cough and then Mary arrived around the corner of the house. She was making quite a lot of noise for

“Bright, I wanted to apologise. For the kiss.” She had on cute Christmas pudding earrings and her amethyst hair matched her nail polish. “I didn’t mean to force you into it, is what I’m trying to say.”

Bright leant down a little, getting closer to her. She smelt like vanilla. “Mary,” he said. “There is absolutely no need to apologise to me.”

“Yes, but I got the feeling you didn’t want to ...”

“In fact, I would very much like to ...” Bright started to say. “All done, mate,” the locksmith said, poking his head out the ranch slider. Bright pulled reluctantly away from Mary. She was standing with her chin tilted up, eyes wide, and he couldn’t remember any more why he had thought she wasn’t

“Hope you’re not expecting to find any dead bodies in there,” the locksmith joked. “If you can’t find the key, let me know and I’ll come back and replace the whole lock.”

Bright watched him get into his car, then turned to Mary. She’d moved away slightly and he felt like he’d imagined the moment they’d had before they were interrupted.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous to go inside,” he said, pick- ing at the skin on his thumb nail. “It’s not like I am actually going to find a dead body inside the garage.”

“No missing residents that I know of, so that’s a start,” Mary said. “Doesn’t Klaus know you were having the door unlocked?”

Bright looked down at his feet sheepishly. “He’s been ca- gey about things. Keeps telling me he can’t find the key, but I’m sure he’s got it. I guess I’m curious to see why he doesn’t want me in there. And I need to put the bloody car away.”

Mary’s eyes sparkled. He hadn’t really noticed before what a striking shade of blue they were. “Do you want me to stand guard?” she stage-whispered.

Bright chuckled. “Would you?”

“I’ll give you a whistle if I see anything.”

He let himself into the garage through the internal door. It was dim and cool inside and he flipped a switch. The flu- orescent light flickered on. Boxes were neatly stacked along one wall. The workbench was covered in scraps of wood and sawdust. To one side was a pile of wooden toys — figurines of

little people painted bright colours and animals shiny with linseed oil. There was a trestle table covered in wrapping pa- per, ribbons and scissors. A large tape dispenser sat on one end. Most curious of all was the large, half-built sled in the middle of the garage. Next to it was a large hessian sack of coal.

Some of the stacked boxes had been opened, and Bright lifted a flap and looked inside.

“Holy crap,” he said.

Mary must have heard him from outside. “Bright? Is ev- erything okay in there?”

“Hang on.” He pressed the opener on the wall and the roll- er door slid slowly up, revealing first Mary’s feet, then her shapely bare legs and, finally, all of her.

“Have a look at this,” he said.

They both peered into the box. Mary’s eyes grew wide.“Um

... why does your dad have a box full of fluffy handcuffs?” “I can’t think of one single good reason.”

“Secret present wrapping?” she asked. “There are enough handcuffs in there for each person in the village.”

Mary poked her foot at one of the other boxes. “Do you think we should have a look at these?”

“Most of them have been opened anyway.” They looked at each other. Mary lifted the flap to another box and gasped. “Oh, um ...” She turned a cute shade of pink. “It looks like a box full of ... toys.”

“Toys? Maybe for Bern’s kids.”

“Yeah, not that kind of toy.” She opened another carton. Four of them contained assorted sex toys. Thankfully, the next one was full of small packets of chocolates and another held candy canes and bubble blowers.

“Do you think Dad’s been targeted by scammers?” Bright asked. He was reluctant to look any more.

Klaus looked angrier than Bright had ever seen him. Aside from the time Bern had taken the car out without asking and crashed into the neighbour’s fence.

He looked like a wild man, with his shaggy hair and long grey beard. “Shut the bloody door before everyone sees.”

“I don’t understand, Dad. What are you doing with all this

... stuff? Do you even know what these are?” Bright waved a hand at the lurid handcuffs.

“Of course I bloody do,” Klaus said. “The one-day sale said toys were fifty per cent off. I thought there would be a bit more variety, but I guess children still like to play cops and robbers, don’t they?”

Mary cleared her throat.“These aren’t toys for kids, Klaus.” “Why would you buy so many toys? Are these all for Bern’s

“They’re for all of the children,” Klaus said belligerently. “Well, all the good ones.”

Bright felt an uncomfortable prickling of realisation. “What do you mean, Dad?”

His father was looking at him like he thought Bright was stupid. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it? I suppose you’re old enough to know the truth. In fact, I could probably do with a couple of helpers.”

Beside him, Mary let out a choked noise.

“You have to promise not to spoil the secret. If everyone knew where Santa Claus lived, I’d never get any peace.”

“Dad, you’re not actually ...”

“Of course we’ll help.” Mary gave Bright a look.

“Good. Can you sew? Because I’m having trouble with this blimmin’ machine.”

Klaus had brought his office chair from inside and set it up next to the old sewing machine in a corner of the garage. There was a colourful pile of fabric and a few reels of co- loured ribbon on the table next to it.

“Actually, I’m an excellent seamstress,” Mary said as she wandered over for a closer look. She picked up a spotty knee- high sock from the pile and held it aloft.

According to tradition, you should eat one mince pie on each of the 12 days of Christmas to bring good luck. However, it’s technically illegal to eat mince pies on Christmas Day in England. In the 17th century, Oliver Cromwell banned Christmas pudding, mince pies and anything to do with gluttony. The law has never been rescinded.