“I’ve got some black leather mistletoe this Christmas,
I‘m gonna kiss you and give you a bad shaving rash…”
Dad had plugged his shiny new electric guitar into its amp and was strutting up and down the living room exuberantly singing one of his old band’s songs. He was clearly having the time of his life. It was almost as if his perm had grown back too. Mum, Chloe, Annabelle and Mr Stink sat on the sofa and clapped along. Even Elizabeth and the Duchess were curled up together nodding their heads in time with the music. The heavy rock wasn’t quite to Mr Stink’s taste, and to combat the noise he had discreetly re-inserted his rabbit-dropping earplugs.
“Yeah baby I’m gonna feast on your mince pies,
And give you a real good yuletide surprise…!”
The song ended with a huge flourish on Dad’s guitar, and his tiny stadium of fans cheered and clapped him excitedly.
“Thank you, Wembley. Thank you so much. That was, of course, The Serpents of Doom’s Christmas single, ‘Black Leather Mistletoe’, which rocketed to number 98 in the charts. Now for my next song…”
“I think that’s enough heavy rock music just for now, dear,” said Mum, as if she might already be regretting giving him that present. She turned to Chloe and said, “You don’t want to leave any more, do you?”
“No Mum, not in a million years. This is the best Christmas ever.”
“Oh, wonderful!” said Mum. “It’s super that we are all together having fun like this.”
“But…” said Chloe. “There is one thing I would like.”
“Name it,” said Mum.
“I would like Mr Stink to move in properly.”
“What?” asked Mum with a gasp.
“That’s a great idea,” said Dad. “We’ve all loved having you around, Mr Stink.”
“Yes, you feel like part of the family now,” said Annabelle.
“Well, I suppose he could stay for a little while longer in the shed…” said Mum reluctantly.
“I didn’t mean in the shed. I meant in our house,” said Chloe.
“Of course,” said Dad.
“That would be great!” chimed in Annabelle.
“Well, erm, oh, um…” Mum looked increasingly flustered. “I do really appreciate what Mr Stink had done for us, but I’m not sure he would feel at home here. I don’t imagine he has ever lived in a house as nice as this…”
“Actually, Mr Stink used to live in a stately home,” corrected Chloe gleefully.
“What? As a servant?” said Mum.
“No, it was his stately home. Mr Stink is really a lord.”
“A lord? Is this true, Mr Stink?”
“Yes, Mrs Crooooooombe.”
“A stately hobo! Well, that changes everything!” announced Mum, beaming with pride that she finally had someone truly posh in the house. “Husband, take the plastic covers off the sofa. Annabelle, get out the best china! And if you would like to use the downstairs lavatory at any time Lord Stink, I have the key right here.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need to go right now. Oh, hang on a moment…”
They all looked at Mr Stink expectantly. Chloe, Annabelle and Dad were just curious to finally see what the downstairs loo actually looked like from the inside, since none of them had ever been allowed in there.
“No…no, false alarm.”
Mum continued babbling breathlessly. “And…and…and you can have our bedroom, your lordship! I can sleep on the sofa bed and my husband would be more than happy to move into the shed.”
“What the—?” said Dad.
“Please…please…please stay here with us,” interjected Chloe.
Mr Stink sat in silence for a moment. The cup and saucer in his hands started rattling, then a little tear formed in his eye. It travelled slowly down his cheek, creating a little streak of white on his grimy face. The Duchess looked up at him and tenderly licked it off her master’s face. Chloe’s hand tiptoed its way across the sofa to comfort him.
He held it tight. He held it so tight that she knew this was goodbye.
“Such unimaginable kindness. Thank you. Thank you all, so much. However, I am going to have to say no.”
“Stay with us for Christmas Day and Boxing Day at least,” pleaded Annabelle. “Please…?” said Chloe.
“Thank you,” said Mr Stink. “But I am afraid I have to refuse.”
“But why?” demanded Chloe.
“My work here is done. And I’m a wanderer,” said Mr Stink. “It’s time for me to wander on.”
“But we want you to be safe and warm here with us,” said Chloe. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. Annabelle wiped away her sister’s tears with her sleeve.
“I am sorry, Miss Chloe. I have to go. No tears please. No fuss. Farewell to you all and thank you for all your kindness.” Mr Stink put down his cup and saucer, and headed for the door. “Come on, Duchess,” he said. “It’s time to go.”