Writing for Fun
Winter Wonderland? - Jeanette Rothwell
December 2014
The meeting of the prominent citizens of Robinbridge was well under way and the subject of the use of the village hall was the next on the agenda. For the last four months the hall had been closed for refurbishment and now it was finished its former users needed to be lured back. The Scouts, Tai Chi, Pilates and Zumba classes had transferred to a large room over the local pub and the brass band, the amateur dramatic society and the women's institute had been using the church hall. The village was lucky to have such a facility as its own hall but closing it for refurbishment had sent the villagers elsewhere and there was no sign of them returning. It was winter so the playing field surrounding the hall was deep in mud and out of use so the hall was not even being used as a changing facility.
'We need an event that will attract the families so they can see how nice the place looks now,' announced Councillor Harrington, 'something to get them flocking to the hall.'
'Easier said than done,' stated Mrs Harris, headmistress of the local school, 'what do you suggest?'
'I've been giving this some thought,' replied the councillor, 'its December now so we can start to think about Christmas. What about a Winter Wonderland with Santa Claus, his little helpers, a grotto, tombola, cake stalls, other snacks, book stall, coconut shies, etc etc.'
'Sounds like a lot of hard work,' said the Victor Meldrew of the meeting, alias Mr Brown the Butcher, 'Haven't we left it a bit late?'
'You can't achieve anything without hard work. If we all take a particular aspect of the event and work up some enthusiasm from the villagers, we can do it,' argued the councillor.
'Here, here,' said Major Harris and his wife smiled at him in agreement.
So the hard work began. One burning question was who was going to be Santa Claus? After a lot of persuasion Councillor Harrington agreed to dress up although he was a rather skinny Santa Claus needing a pillow stuffed up the front of the costume and a rather tatty beard from which he had to remove a dead spider. The costume needed to hang outside for a while as it was decidedly musty. It had been stored for a long while in an old wardrobe standing in a back room of the hall.
The big day arrived. The Councillor had donned his outfit and sat in his grotto, the hall was festooned with colourful decorations, the tree twinkled, all the stalls were weighed down with crafts, hand knitted garments, costume jewellery, pies, sausages, sweets, chocolates, etc. And the excited buzz from the volunteers awaiting the public was electric.
The double doors were flung wide and in flocked the villages chatting, admiring the newly painted hall and ready to spend their Christmas money on the offered goods.
There was the chink of money exchanging hands, Christmas music playing in the background, 'Ho, ho, ho!' coming from the grotto and squeals of delight from the wide eyes children picking out their gifts from the bran tub.
Suddenly there was a shout from the front door as three more Santas burst in brandishing baseball bats. All heads turned with gasps of surprise when the leading Santa shouted, 'We're not delivering presents, we want your money. Don't get in our way or we'll use these bats.'
Councillor Harrington came out of his grotto to investigate. Quick as a flash, one child asked, 'As there now four Santas, does that mean we get four presents?' Mrs Harris was nearby and she quickly silenced the child.
Mr Brown challenged the Santas with, 'Come now chaps, you can't mean to rob these folk of their hard earned Christmas money. Have a heart!'
The Santas laughed and started grabbing the various containers on the stalls into which the sellers had put their change and at the same time they grabbed some handbags from the nearest ladies piling everything into the sacks which they had brought with them.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the tea makers could witness the proceedings through the kitchen hatch and one enterprising tea-maker quietly used her mobile phone to summon the police.
The sound of the sirens was soon heard drawing nearer and the Santas began to panic. There were some wrapped presents under the Christmas tree and these were swiftly stuffed into the sacks. Of course, they didn't know that the presents were just dummy ones weighted down with sand or bricks.
The Police could be heard pulling up outside the building but before the Santas could escape, Mrs Harris, who had been peering very closely at the robbers suddenly said, in her best headmistress voice, 'Jimmy Roberts you should be ashamed of yourself, upsetting us like this. What would your mother say?' The leading Santa appeared to crumple and the other two stood looking confused. Mrs Harris carried on, 'I'm sure your friends are John and Mike Cummins. So put everything back before you get into real trouble.'
The three looked at each other in bewilderment and then, dropping their sacks, made for the back door of the hall. Councillor Harrington had brought his sack of gifts with him, out of the grotto, and as the leading Santa tried to pass, he threw the sack in his way. The robber sprawled headlong over the sack and the other two did likewise. As the first Santa sat up he shook his fist at the Councillor only to have it clamped by a handcuff carried by a burly Policeman who had entered by the back door. All three were captured and taken to the local Police Station.
There was a sigh of relief from everyone and then they emptied the robbers' sacks to return everything to its rightful owners. Some villagers left to tell their friends and neighbours of the incident and soon the hall was packed to capacity. Publicity of any sort works wonders!
In the New Year the users of the hall gradually returned. The Court decided that the three pseudo Santas had not really done any harm except for threatening behaviour so they were given some community service, part of which was to keep the Village Hall clean and tidy.
Nemesis!