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“I won’t object if you go home, James,” CS Moody said. “It’s four o’clock on Christmas Eve and there’s nothing pressing at the moment. You’re not due back until the 27th, so you might as well make the most of the break.”
“Thank you, sir, but I’m just tying up various loose ends. It’s peaceful with most people gone and I have nothing I need to do when I get home.”
“You are going to celebrate Christmas, aren’t you?”
“Oh yes, but I’m already organised. I prefer not to leave things to the last minute.”
Moody smiled. “Okay then. And have a happy Christmas.”
“You, too, sir.”
***
Once home James hung up his suit and changed into more casual clothes. His flat was tastefully decorated, partly this was his own inclination, equally he didn’t see any point in masses of decorations when it was unlikely anyone else would see it. He had a small artificial tree in one corner of the room and he had placed his few presents beneath it.
He poured himself a glass of wine and took a mince pie out of the box. He planned on eating supper about eight o’clock before heading out later for Midnight Mass. He looked in the fridge before deciding to make an omelette for supper. There was a chicken in there, fresh, free range, ready to be cooked for Christmas lunch.
He had Christmas Day all planned out: get up late, then set dinner to cook. In the afternoon he would read his new book (Robbie and Laura’s present waiting to be unwrapped under the tree) and listen to the CD his sister had sent (similarly placed). In the evening he’d have a couple of glasses of wine – he’d treated himself to an expensive bottle – and watch television for a bit.
It wasn’t what most people would chose for Christmas Day, but he was looking forward to the rest and the time to himself after working flat out for the last few weeks. He supposed he wouldn’t have minded a bit of company, but on the whole he was quite content.
***
Having celebrated the birth of the Christ child at the mass, James stepped outside the church and shivered slightly. The temperature had dropped and he pulled his scarf closer and put on his gloves. Suddenly he was aware someone had stepped out of the shadows. He tensed, waiting to see what would happen.
“I am here to tell you your silver coach awaits,” said the familiar voice of Robbie Lewis, “Or maybe, since this is after midnight, that should be your pumpkin. Either way, I’m taking you to our place so you can join us for Christmas.”
“But I’ll need the right clothes and things.”
“We’ll drop by your flat. You can have five minutes to pack the first things which come to hand. It’s only us, you don’t need the ‘right’ things.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“Of course, I’m sure. I wouldn’t be standing here in the freezing cold if I wasn’t.”
“You know, you could have invited me in the conventional way.”
“And you’d have said no. This way you’re too surprised to refuse.”
James grinned. “Okay then. Lead me to my pumpkin.”