Santa's Grotto

When he fell the puddle splashed me.  It made the upside down coloured lights in the water run into each other and look like the paints in my paint box when I drop them on the floor.  We were really close to the front 'cause it was my turn next and I was going to get my toy.  He was shouting somethin' when it happened but I couldn't really  hear what he was saying.  As he shouted his breath made a cloud and it smelled of alkol.  I know it was alkol 'cause I've been in a pub lots of times, even more than Daniel and he's already seven.  I was just about to go and get my toy but then he stood up and shouted again – somethin' about “Bratz” but they're a girl's toy and I don't want a girl's toy.  Then he fell over and his chair went backwards and it reminded me of when Daniel pulled my chair away and I had a big bruise on my bum for ages.

Everyone crowded 'round him which pushed me even closer 'cause I was right at the front.  It made me let go of my mum's hand and I could hear her shouting my name.

“Jack love, stay there.  I'm right here duck.”  She sounded like she did when Uncle Andy took me in a boat in the middle of the pond and I was crying.

“Mum, Father Christmas has fallen over and his eyes are closed and everything.  Mum, is Father Christmas dead?”

“No Jack, Father Christmas isn't dead love.  Oh for god's sake let me through, will you?  Jack sweetheart come here, let the grown ups look after him.”

I tried to turn round but the woman next to me was wearing a really long black coat and it had a buckle on it that hit me in the face and made my eye water.  I decided to stay at the front 'cause I didn't want mum to think that I'd been crying and be all cuddling and stuff.  A man with no hair like Uncle Andy was kneeling by Father Christmas and calling him Jeff, which must be what people who know him call him, like when my mum calls me “Duck” even though I'm not a duck.  Close up I could just see that Father Christmas had a tattoo with the Aston Villa badge on, which is really cool but I suppose they don't have a very good team in the north pole.  I bet the pole would make a really good goal post.

I didn't like the man with no hair – he started tugging at Father Christmas' beard and it just came off in his hand.  He looked at me really funny when it happened, like he was saying sorry.  As I looked down at the beard lying in the puddle and remembered the Aston Villa tattoo,  and the man calling him “Jeff”, I felt sad and I thought about what some of my friends at school have been saying about how grown ups tell lies.