There’s a danger, when a child no longer believes in you-know-who, that the magic of Christmas can be lost, but it was never that way for Freya. As soon as she stopped writing letters to the big guy in the red coat, her dad made it his mission to inject a new kind of magic into every festive season their little family shared. There were trips to a Christmas tree farm, singing carols at the old people’s home, and even the time when he accidentally set light to the outside Christmas tree, as he was releasing Chinese lanterns with their wishes for the following year written on the side. According to Freya’s dad, whoever it was who said those things should be banned had been dead right. They still laughed about it years later and had photos of the poor tree, which looked more like something out of a horror movie than a Yuletide welcome at the door. It was the stuff that memories were made of, and the thought of him whacking the burning tree with a spade, as he tried to put out the flames – Basil Fawlty style – still made her smile.
On Freya’s fifteenth Christmas, her dad had a new idea. He called it Undercover Santa and her instinctive reaction had been to roll her eyes.
‘I’m not dressing up, so you can think again if you’ve got us matching outfits.’ Freya crossed her arms. She wasn’t as embarrassed by her parents as a lot of her friends, but she wasn’t being seen anywhere dressed up in matching Santa suits.
‘You don’t have to dress up. It’s not about what we’re wearing, it’s about what we’re doing.’ He grinned and put an arm around her mother, Colleen, who looked a bit disappointed by the fact they wouldn’t be dressing up.
‘And what exactly are we doing?’ Freya narrowed her eyes. Singing at the old people’s home had been a lot more fun than she’d expected, but there’d been no chance of bumping into any of her mates from school there. If her dad expected her to sing in public, then he was going to be very disappointed.
‘I’ve bought twelve gift cards, that’s four each. We’re going to go into town and find people who look like they could do with a bit of a helping hand for Christmas. Once you’ve chosen someone you think could use the gift card, to take a bit of pressure off, or who just appreciates knowing that someone cares, then you can hand them out.’
‘Don’t you think some people could find that offensive, John?’ Colleen wrinkled her nose, probably imagining how she’d feel if someone made her a similar offer.
‘You don’t have to say why you’re giving them out.’ He laughed. ‘After all, we don’t want Freya telling people it’s because they’re wearing supermarket brand trainers!’
‘Don’t worry, Dad, you’re the only person who’d be seen dead wearing those.’ Freya stuck out her tongue. Her father would wear anything as long as it kept his feet dry but, at fourteen, having the right logo on the side of her trainers was still pretty near the top of her priority list.
‘My point is, all you have to say is that you’re sharing a bit of Christmas cheer and that you hope they enjoy whatever they spend the money on.’
‘I could give them all to the homeless guy in the underpass, but not if the vouchers are for McDonalds. Did I tell you that Chrissie bought him a burger with the money from her Saturday job? But when she gave it to him, he said, “no thanks, I’m a vegetarian”. She couldn’t believe it.’ Freya shook her head, still shocked at the idea that anyone could turn down a burger.
‘Of course he’s not going to eat a burger, it’s against his principles.’ John looked at her levelly for a moment and handed her four of the cards. ‘You’ll get it one day, when you realise there’s more to life than fast food and trainers. Really thinking about others is what Christmas is all about. You’ve got to look at the gift card and decide what kind of person could make the best use of it. I definitely think you should give one to the young man in the underpass, but you need to spread the giving out. Each person can only get one of your cards.’
‘He’s got a dog.’ Freya looked down at the cards. ‘The guy in the underpass, I mean. So maybe he could use the gift card from the supermarket to stock up on dog food? He looks like he really loves his dog, and it just sits there watching him the whole time he’s busking. I don’t know if he gets much money, though, the guitar he uses looks like it’s got one of the strings missing.’
‘Now you’re getting it.’ Her dad nodded. ‘Let’s head into town then, shall we?’
Three hours later, all the gift cards were gone, but there was something else Freya still needed to do.
‘Shall we grab a hot chocolate before we go home?’ Her mum turned towards her, as they drew level with Topsie’s Tearooms, and she nodded.
‘There’s just a last-minute present I need to get, I’ll meet you in there.’ Freya was already heading a bit further down the high street. Luckily, she found what she needed in the first shop she tried, which was empty compared to almost everywhere else they’d been that day.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ Her dad looked up as she joined them at the table, just after the server had set down three hot chocolates piled high with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘So, are you going to tell us what it is then?’ Her mother gestured to the small bag on the table, emblazoned with the Merlin’s Music logo.
‘Guitar strings.’ Freya spooned whipped cream into her mouth, but that didn’t stop her spotting the confused expressions on her parents’ faces.
‘You don’t play the guitar.’
‘I know, Mum, but Johnny does.’
‘Who’s Johnny?’ Dropping two sugar cubes into his hot chocolate, her dad raised his eyebrows. ‘It is finally that time when I’m going to have to accept boys coming to the door to take you out? I’m not sure I’m anywhere near ready. I think thirty’s a good age to start dating.’
‘Oh Dad, not that again! It’s not a boyfriend, don’t worry. Johnny’s the homeless guy who plays guitar in the underpass, the one with the dog.’ Freya looked up at them. ‘He was so happy when he got the gift card, but he definitely had at least one guitar string missing and I noticed how worn out the rest of them looked; like they might snap at any minute. So I used the last of my birthday money to get him a new set. Can we take them down to him before we go home?’
‘Of course we can. Oh love, I’m so proud of you.’ Moving across to Freya’s side of the table, her dad wrapped his arms around her.
‘All right, not here. Someone might see us.’ She squirmed away from his embrace, secretly pleased that she’d done something to make him so happy and suddenly understanding exactly why he’d wanted to play Undercover Santa.
‘See, you might think Dad has madcap ideas.’ Her mum smiled. ‘But I bet one day you’ll be doing this with your own kids at Christmas.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’ Freya’s response was grudging, but her mum was right. One day she wanted to tell her children all about the traditions their grandfather had started, and the memories they’d built as a result. It was the kind of legacy parents should hand down to their children, wasn’t it? It proved they were a family and that nothing would ever change that… Or at least, that’s what she’d thought.