A detached observer of the inside of St. Mary's Hospital, Paddington might conclude it to be seasonless. Showers of rain might batter down at the scurrying insect like shapes scuttling towards the gaping swing doors in wintertime. Alternately, the summer humidity and burning sun might drag at the heels of the onward plod of those same shapes. Once through these doors, the hospital enfolded all comers in the same institutional grip. The paintwork was bright and neutral coloured and faded away everything belonging to the outside world. The atmosphere might be soporific for the patient resigned to a passive role but life or death demands meant that both consultant and nurse alike were aware that the situation could so easily switch to sudden emergency, to fevered demands to move very quickly should the situation demand. The patient that all and sundry pushed into theatre on the 'crash trolley' might have been placidly lying in bed only a minute or so earlier on. Even at the quietest times, no one working at St. Mary's Hospital could ever totally drop their guard. This was the unchanging pattern of life whether or not spring buds grew on the bare branches outside or whether discoloured leaves fluttered from them to the bare earth.
The only break in this uniformity of experience came at Christmas. By some common consent, the slot fell to Donna to organize putting up the Christmas tree up on Darwin Ward and to decorate it very artistically. That is to say, Chrissie with unusual good humour tolerantly let Donna direct her to do a lot of the donkey work while Donna fiddled about very artistically while talking nine to the dozen. With her winning smile and gift of the gab, she had already found it easy to blag the more demonstrative not to say show offish men to pin gaudy tinsel in hanging geometrical, diagonal lines in the main ward. Of course, there was the understanding that Christmas at St. Mary's wasn't the happiest thought among the patients. They could so easily have been doing what all people do at Christmas, trying to snatch that daydream of a better life, the candles casting their glow of a homelike home and a happy family gathered around the traditional hearth, or so the Christmas cards told them they wanted reality to be. Instead, they were stuck inside an institution and, no matter how kind hearted the carers were, the hospital wasn't home.
For the staff, it was a different matter for St Mary's was where they all belonged, for a larger slice of their waking lives than most of them would care to admit and the Christmas tree had a whole other meaning for them. This was the time of the year that pressed together the sometimes far-flung community of the working population into one arena, for good or ill. Then again, Christmas parties also meant the habitual casual affairs and sexual infidelities that tested the relationships between those who worked at St. Mary's and their partners on the outside, sometimes to destruction.
Ric had just come off his shift and was strolling through the ward when Donna greeted him with a dazzling smile.
"I really could do with someone tall like you, Mr. Griffin, to put the angel at the top of the tree. I get nervous wobbling on top of a chair and might fall off and break a leg. You wouldn't want that, would you"
At the art of turning on the feminine charm, Ric reflected to himself, Donna might not be the past mistress as Connie is but he was prepared to be a sucker for it one more time. After all, what's there to lose in putting up a decoration on a Christmas tree? Ric graciously volunteered to bask in a bit of female attention, however spurious. It wasn't till he looked closer at the height of the tree that he realized that he might end up twisting either his back or his neck. Nevertheless, he resolved, in for a penny, in for a pound, a saying not in his ex-wife's grandmother's repertoire of proverbs.
"Handling angels again, Mr. Griffin?" Came the cool sultry amused voice from somewhere at the back of him. He didn't need to ask himself who the owner of that voice was. Ric said nothing while he stretched himself up to the very top of the tree and held the angel in his fingers.
"Well, naturally, Donna came to the expert," Came his outrageously smug reply.
"It's amazing what men will do if they're gently edged in the right direction," Connie retorted coolly and dismissively.
"I suppose you think that all men are weak willed and will sell out their principles, either here or in court," Broke in Zubin's earnest yet angry tones.
Ric groaned to himself. He had been unwillingly drawn into the cross cutting tensions between Zubin and Connie over the impending trial. They had behaved in an over civilized fashion to each other but he had known that it wouldn't take much to snap these these restraints and Zubin was clearly spoiling for a fight. He would have been grateful for a truce between the warring sides with a bit of Christmas spirit and, most of all that war wouldn't break out right now when he was physically least prepared to deal with it.
"Let's not go there, all of us. After all, it's nearly Christmas," Ric muttered quietly as he placed the angel securely on the top of the tree and turned round sideways. As he spoke, he knew that he was only talking about the cosy image of Christmas, not the downside that they all saw of the upsurge of admissions during and after Christmas, the alcohol related car accidents and the women rushed in to casualty, the grim aftermath of domestic discord, of Christmas dreams gone horribly wrong.
Connie had seen the flare up of black anger in Zubin's eyes and immediately realized she had overstepped the mark. With expert agility, she darted back from the precipice.
"Believe what you wish. It's not important anyway. Ric, I wanted to have a word with you about quite another matter altogether, the staff Christmas arrangements"
Connie had adroitly turned away from Zubin and faced Ric instead.
"Business or pleasure"
"Definitely pleasure," Connie retorted with a hint of a smile on her lips, which made Ric shake his head.
"Please explain, Connie. I'm interested"
"There's a possible vacancy for a Santa Claus at the staff Christmas party and I wanted to sound you out about it"
"Oh no." Ric laughed. "all this ho ho ho, fake jollity isn't really me. Besides, I'd far sooner be one of the bystanders"
"Come on, Mr. Griffin, you'll love to have all those pretty nurses sitting on your knee"
Connie coaxed him, the full effect of her violet eyes being trained on him in one final attempt to change his mind for him.
Ric nearly weakened but smilingly shook his head. Connie wasn't put out in the slightest and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.
"So, I've got to decide instead which lucky man will be the elf"
"You're going to be Santa Claus instead." It was a statement of the obvious, not a question.
"Well, naturally since you're not playing"
Ric laughed as he could see what was coming up a mile away. There were times when Connie wasn't quite as enigmatic as she liked to think she was.
"If I'm in the audience, I can admire your very fetching Santa outfit and I can't do it if I'm the elf. Tell you what, I'll be the bouncer and I'll sling out anyone who is acting the idiot and getting out of hand"
He would far sooner be amongst the audience from what he remembered last year of Connie's very alluring Christmas outfit. Connie nodded briefly in appreciation of the offer of help, which, on reflection, was a sensible precaution.
"Well, it looks as if I'll have to look for a substitute. I'm sure Mubbs will be more malleable. Besides, it would do him good to shoulder some responsibility at an event like this"
With one flick of her eyes, she moved off and paced nonchalantly up to the unsuspecting Mubbs while Zubin edged his way up to Ric.
"I can't see just why you continue to sit on the fence where Connie is concerned. You have to learn that sooner or later you have to take sides." Zubin muttered reproachfully. "At least Tom has the right idea for a change"
"So, after years of bitching at Tom, he's a good guy at last." Ric retorted sarcastically.
"That's not the point." Came the sullen reply.
"Believe you me, it's very much the point. Anyway, I've found out that no one is entirely on my side, not you, not Connie. Friendship's one thing, Zubin. Blindly following someone like a sheep is quite another. Just you remember that"
They were too engrossed to see Connie stalk Mubbs and finally pounce on him.
"I've got a proposition for you to take up a little extra curricular position. You'll enjoy it."
Ric grinned in amusement as a fraction of his hearing picked up on the silky tones in which she addressed Mubbs, yanking his attention away from talking to Will and Lisa. Connie gestured imperceptibly to Mubbs to follow and he eagerly followed her to a corner of the room. Ric could almost see the way that part of Mubbs' anatomy rise to the delicately poised bait, dangled in front of him. A big grin of anticipation spread all over his face as he relished being picked out from all others for Connie's favour.
"That sounds great." Mubbs was heard to say without asking exactly what it was.
"I want you to help me out playing Santa Claus and, between you and me, you're the perfect man for the job"
"You mean"
"I want you to be my helper. All those pretty nurses will be queuing up for you, I mean if you want them. Think it over, Mubbs. It will be one up to you on your CV. And afterwards, who knows"
Ric had edged just far enough nearer to overhear Connie and Mubbs while talking shop with Zubin. He had to almost pity the weak minded man with big ideas about himself letting himself be so easily drawn by the combination of Connie's sexual allure and the chance of opportunistically furthering his own career. The calculated combination was irresistible.
Connie had delegated as little as she could to Mubbs in the run up to the party. She was just putting the finishing touches to her outfit in a dimly lit room when Mubbs walked in. To his astonished eyes, Connie sat cross-legged and pulling up a thin black sock up her elegant leg to just short of her knee and it made the Santa outfit ride up her thigh. In his fantasies, it looked like Connie was donning a pair of black leather high-heeled boots before his eyes could see more clearly. He remembered he'd seen some American film more than once on the telly about a good looking older woman who looked like her but after a promising start, it got boring and he ended up falling asleep on the sofa.
"Are you ready, Mubbs." She asked with a slight smile on his lips and noticed that Mubbs was more the size and build of an elf in his costume than Will was last year. As in every other situation she was in, she ended up on top and in charge.
"Yeah, Connie. The other half of the team's ready and waiting."
Nonchalantly, Connie made her grand entrance with that almost imperceptible sway of her hips in the figure-hugging outfit. The hem of the red outfit, edged with white fur pushed the limits of what she could get away with in drawing a horizontal line well above her knees, defying convention. Again, every other normal bulky Santa outfit but Connie's went up to the chin. It was, after all, supposedly to defy the winter elements of Greenland. Trust Connie to be different as her outfit was carefully unbuttoned at the top displaying her charms for all to see and her demonstration of power over them. Certainly all the men had a free present as their eyes were out on sticks as she smiled graciously at all around her. Everyone could look at her and confirm her queen bee status but it was down to her to decide who could touch.