Spud turned off the phone with a sigh of relief. This mission had got a bit too big for him and he was glad to feel that Lara had taken charge. I’ve got my orders now, I must go back to the shop and wait, he thought. Oh, but first I must return this phone.
He trotted round the corner just in time to see the two girls setting off up the road, their bags firmly over their shoulders. Oh no, I’m too late! What am I going to do?
There was nothing for it. Holding the phone carefully in his mouth, Spud ran up to the dark-haired girl and sat down on the pavement right in front of her, blocking her path. Then he put the phone down carefully by her feet and looked her directly in the eye. He cocked his head in what he hoped was his cute puppy look. Yours, I think?
‘My phone! Oh, I must have dropped it!’ said the girl. ‘What a clever dog! Thank you! Thank you! That’s amazing!’
Spud felt embarrassed. She doesn’t know that I took it in the first place. There’s no way I should be thanked for giving it back. He hung his head as the girl patted him gratefully, then gave her hand a quick lick and scurried off into the crowd.
As Spud made his way back down the street, the big department store loomed in front of him. He gazed up to the fourth floor. I wonder what’s happening in there? He thought. And, more to the point, what’s going to happen at twelve o’clock?
Up in the toy department, Mum and Ollie were standing in the queue for Santa’s Grotto. Mum was weighed down with carrier bags and Ollie was proudly carrying his new shoes, still in their box. When Mum told Ollie what his special treat would be, he was thrilled. ‘I’ve never been to see Father Christmas in a shop before!’ he said.
Even now, in the queue, he couldn’t stand still and kept hopping from foot to foot, peering at all the Christmassy scenery and exclaiming as he spotted different little animals hidden in the branches. ‘I wonder what Santa will say to me? Will I get a present? Hey, look, Mum, a squirrel! Look, it’s moving! It’s holding a nut in its paws! What kind of present will I get, Mum? Oh, wow! Look, there’s a sort of house in there! Is that where Santa is? Are we going in soon?’
There were some nice young women dressed as Santa’s elves directing the queue and Ollie noticed that one of them came out of the gingerbread house looking a bit concerned and whispered something to another, but he was too excited to let it bother him.
Inside the grotto, Stanley Strange was doing a terrible job of impersonating Santa. Strange was a clever man who could have turned his brains to very good use if he’d chosen to. In front of a computer – any computer – he was truly a wizard, but doing something as simple as talking to a small child was quite beyond him.
‘What do you want for Christmas?’ he snarled at a four-year-old. The little boy was shy and kept his thumb firmly in his mouth.
‘Come on, come on, I haven’t got all day,’ said Strange. ‘And if you keep sucking your thumb like that all you’ll get is braces on your teeth. Here, take this.’ He passed the child a present from the real Santa’s sack. ‘Merry Christmas. Ho ho! Next, please!’
The only time Strange brightened up was when one little girl said she’d like the latest computerized toy robot for Christmas. ‘Ah, well, that’s an interesting choice,’ he said and started a long explanation of exactly how it worked and all the different ways that it could have been improved. ‘I think the manufacturers were cutting corners,’ he confided. ‘Any fool can see that an infrared detector would have improved its efficiency, and personally I would have added a sensor control feature as well.’
The little girl was only five and couldn’t understand a word. Strange didn’t notice at first and continued to bombard her with facts until the little girl began to cry.
‘What! You mean you don’t know the difference between a megabyte and a megapixel,’ said Strange impatiently. ‘For heaven’s sake! The toy would be wasted on you. Stick to dollies and teddies, little girl. Merry Christmas. Ho ho! Stop blubbing. Next!’
‘What on earth’s happened to Santa?’ said one of the elves to another. ‘He’s usually so good with the kids.’
‘I know!’ agreed the other elf. ‘You’d hardly believe it was the same man!’
‘And another thing,’ added her friend. ‘Why does he keep looking at his watch?’
The secret Santa checked his watch one more time. The seconds were ticking. When the big hand and little hand met at twelve, he would be a multi-millionaire.
