A Hustle Christmas
The snow whirled around the deserted plazas on the riverside, the street lights illuminating the blizzard and emphasising the size and thickness of the snowflakes. All the shops were shuttered, the newspaper vendors had gone home, and even the most hardened workaholic had shut down the office computer and descended into the tube station to catch the final train of Christmas Eve.
Round the corner came what seemed to be the last two people in the world, huddled together under an umbrella, the woman clinging to her male companion's arm. A sudden fierce gust of wind met them and blew the umbrella irretrievably inside out. It was tossed in the nearest rubbish bin, to keep the old sandwich wrappers and copies of the Financial Times company.
The couple hunched down even further against the onslaught of the gale, and battled along the concourse to the entrance to the shopping mall, where they found all the doors locked. The man finally snapped.
"Where the bloody hell is he? Two-thirty, on the dot, that's what he said, isn't it?"
"Yes, two-thirty, but give him a chance, the weather's so awful he could well have been held up."
"Well, we managed it on time, why couldn't he? And he works here!"
"Oh, look around, Danny, this place is like the Marie Celeste!" Stacie checked her watch. "I wouldn't blame him for not coming."
"Can I help you?" Danny and Stacie jumped and turned to see a security guard standing a few feet away from them.
"That's sooo kind of you, sweetheart." Stacie didn't believe in fight or flight, just flirt. "But we're actually supposed to be meeting somebody here…"
"Then I think they're having a little joke at your expense," interrupted the guard, looking quite amused himself. "It might have escaped your notice, but all the buildings here are locked up tight, and until Boxing Day too. You ain't meeting anyone here today, folks, aside from me."
"Riiiight," purred Stacie. "Well, maybe you can tell us where we could catch a taxi?"
"Over there, by the entrance to Heron Quays station, love. I'll show you." He started to lead the way.
"Thanks, mate, but we'll just wait a little bit longer here, if you don't mind. Our friend might still show up," explained Danny.
The guard looked back in astonishment. "On a day like this? He'd need his head looking at," he said, his tone implying that Danny and Stacie might be a few fries short of a Happy Meal themselves.
"Don't you worry about us, we'll be fine," said Danny, examining his phone for messages.
"Anything?" asked Stacie. He shook his head.
"Look, I've worked here since this place was built," said the security man, "and in all that time I've never seen anyone stay past 2pm on Christmas Eve. Even the trains stop running. I reckon you've been stood up."
"I think you may be right," replied Stacie. "Well," she said reluctantly, turning to Danny, "we've been here five minutes, and it took us at least that to walk from the corner of that building" – she indicated the office block they had come round – "to here, so we would have seen him if he'd been early. I really do think we should give up and take a cab home; I'm starting to freeze." She shivered and rubbed her hands together.
Danny still looked doubtful. The guard shrugged his shoulders and continued on his rounds.
Stacie shielded her eyes from the wintry blast and grabbed Danny's arm. "Look! Do you see that?" She pointed to a building about a quarter of a mile further on.
Danny stared hard. "A black coat?" he asked.
"Yes! I knew I'd seen it! It can only be him," said Stacie, triumphantly.
The patrolman returned to their side. "Where?"
"Over there." Stacie pointed again. "I definitely saw someone in a black overcoat walking past that bistro at the end of the quay."
He pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Lenny to base, over."
"Base here," crackled back the receiver.
"Got a possible stray, Cubitt Steps area. Heading that way now, over."
"All received. Over."
Danny's phone rang, and the man halted in his tracks.
"Hello?...Finlay, where on earth are you?!...yes, I know Canary Wharf, but it's a big place, mate, which bit?...there's some stairs, and a big fountain?…" he looked up at Lenny for confirmation, who announced, "Cabot Square," with certainty. "I'm on my way. Tell your friend to turn back, and go up the steps towards the riverside, and I'll find him and bring him to you, all right?"
"You still there, Finlay? There's a security guy on his way to meet you, he says go back the way you came, up the steps, and wait for him by the river, OK?...good, see you in five. Thanks, mate," Danny added, as the good samaritan hurried off.
Stacie answered the urgent buzzing of her own mobile. "Yes, still all right. I'd say…about another ten minutes, tops." She looked at Danny, who nodded in agreement.
"We're going to head over now…OK, see you there, then."
She hung up and said, "Let's go."
The two ran off into the snowstorm and the darkening day.
**********
"What's the hold-up, Mick?" hissed Ash, looking this way and that for any sign of life.
"Damn security locks…ah, got it." He shoved the door open and Ash went straight for the alarm box. Two snips with his pliers, and all was safe and silent, apart from the sound of canned audience laughter.
"This way." Mickey followed the tinny sound of the television to a small office.
"All the comforts of home," observed Ash dryly. Aside from the to-be-expected bank of CCTV screens, plus an armchair, kettle and microwave, there was a seemingly infinite quantity of cardboard boxes. They each took a look inside one and whistled in unison.
"I think we can safely say we've come to the right place," declared Mickey.
The door behind them suddenly opened and they both leapt back in alarm.
"Aha, caught ya!" exclaimed Danny, victoriously.
"Don't do that, Danny," warned Ash, "or you'll be visiting me in the ICU."
"Just wanted to help," he grinned back.
"OK then, all hands to the pumps," Mickey ordered, and they began taking the boxes outside.
"Stacie covering the truck?" panted Ash.
"Yep!" gasped Danny in reply. "Bloody hell, what's in these, concrete blocks?"
Mickey reappeared, pushing a porter's trolley.
"Ah, that's more like it!" said Ash approvingly. He stacked his and Danny's crates on it and Mickey about-faced to take it to the waiting van.
In another five minutes they had emptied the security office of any surplus goods they could find, and Ash was fastening the back doors of the truck. The four of them crammed into the front seat, and were off before Mickey had a chance to properly close the passenger door.
"Oi, Ash, watch it! I nearly ended up as furry dice there!" complained Danny.
"We just made it, that's why I opened the taps," Ash said. He jabbed his thumb backwards. "Laughing boy's returned, only he doesn't look too happy. I don't think he's realised anything's missing, though…yet." He gave a broad smirk.
**********
"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, my dear!"
The little girl's eyes lit up as Santa handed her a beautifully wrapped gift, which she ripped open in less than three seconds, revealing the latest Barbie doll. Each child in the hospital had been similarly bestowed, with games, toys, and sweets, plus a big tin of chocolates for the nurses on every ward.
"Thank you, Santa!" said the smiling staff nurse. "Say goodbye, children, Santa's going now, he has lots of other boys and girls to visit!"
A lusty chorus of "Bye-bye, Santa!" echoed up the halls behind the old gentleman as he made his way to the elevators.
"I've been a good boy too, Santa." Danny leaned off the wall of the corridor where he'd been waiting. "Don't I get something?"
"Virtue is its own reward," intoned the jolly old elf. "Your liberating those gifts and giving them to truly deserving children should be all the Christmas you need."
The lift arrived and the two men stepped inside. Danny pressed the button for the ground floor while Albert removed his Santa suit and beard and placed them in a bag.
"I trust there's been no comeback while I've been performing my good deed for the day?" he asked.
"Not for us, no, but Lenny Mulligan's a bit put out, by all accounts. Ash's grapevine has him smashing up the security office when he discovered his stash of ill-gottens had vanished into thin air."
"So hopefully he got his marching orders?"
"Only right and proper too," said Danny. "The boss of the security firm went ape when he saw the state of the place, and called the old bill. So with a bit of luck, Lenny boy's celebrating Christmas Day in a cell at West India Dock police station."
"I hear their canteen food is particularly gruesome," replied Albert with not a little relish.
"Pigswill," agreed Danny, as they stepped out into the street. Snow lay on the ground, sparkling in the brightest winter sunshine Albert could remember for many a year. He stood there, taking in the bracing air, enjoying the feeling of satisfaction and justice exacted. It was the best Christmas yet.