‘Where are you going, darling?’ Emily asked, as, shortly after 9 a.m., Jason hurtled downstairs like a whirlwind, bunged an instant porridge in the microwave, then sat at the kitchen table and began skimming through the Argus. His ritual at breakfast was to read the local paper, then the Guardian.
He raised a finger to his lips. ‘Ssshhhh, I’m on a mission to find us a Ghostbuster and then running some errands for Santa!’
‘Oh?’
‘Santa says there’s a rather lovely lady who has moved into 47 Lakeview Drive, who is going to be in need of a lot of presents on Christmas morning.’
‘Really?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And he’s appointed you his Little Helper?’
‘I think he might have done.’
She gave him a wan smile. ‘Don’t forget the framer!’
‘Dunno if there’s going to be enough room for the pictures in my car, with all the presents I’ll have for you.’
‘So, take the van . . .’
‘I’ll make room, somehow.’
‘Seriously, the framer is number-one priority. And ride your sleigh carefully!’
‘David Graham – number-one priority!’
‘Then Mr Ghostbuster?’
‘He’ll be in Santa’s sack. Any more footsteps, yell at them to take their shoes off.’
‘I’ll stick a sign outside the front door. All ghosts: barefoot only in this house.’
‘Their eyesight might be a bit crap, you know; some of them are probably pretty ancient.’
‘Fine, I’ll leave a pair of reading glasses out for them.’
‘Maybe some garlic and a mirror, too.’
‘That’s for vampires, isn’t it?’
‘Might as well take a belt-and-braces approach!’