Summer of Saint Nicholas

The sleigh landed smoothly onto the roof. The soft sound of bells rang out as a dozen reindeer came to a halt.

A large, fur-lined black boot stepped out onto the roof. The owner of the boot quickly followed. Father Christmas, Jolly Old Saint Nick, stood fully upright.

His watch told him that it was 10 pm and he was situated in Coventry, in the United Kingdom.

So, why on Earth was the sun still out?

He checked his surroundings, making sure that he hadn't accidentally ended up in Australia, New Zealand, or any of his Southern Hemisphere locations.

But no, the city of Coventry was pretty unmistakable. There was the famous Cathedral, there was Holy Trinity Church, and there was Nando's.

If there was one thing that Father Christmas was sure about, it was that he always delivered his Northern Hemisphere presents in the dark.

And what was with this weather?

He was sweltering. His upper back was soaked in sweat where his large sack of presents had rested during the journey.

But there was no use worrying about it, he had presents to deliver, and very little time to do it.

He walked over to the chimney, and he began his descent.

===================

Luke had just finished putting the kids to bed. It was always hard to do this during June, when the sun was still up, and birds were singing in the trees.

He had read them a story about a goat and a bridge, and finally their breathing had slowed, and sleep had overtaken them.

He went downstairs and turned the TV on. Belgium were struggling to beat a determined Iran in the World Cup.

Julie walked in with a large glass of white wine for herself and a cold bottle of Staropramen for Luke.

She sat back and prepared her opening argument as to why they should stop watching this pointless and boring football match and instead find a film to watch together.

"Luke, how much of an Iranian football fan would you say you were, on a scale of 1 to 10?"

Luke's lips were just forming the words "Massive" when the sound of bells rang out from what sounded like the roof.

"What was that?" Julie looked up at the ceiling as if it could somehow provide an answer.

"Could it be the kids?"

"Luke, how many sets of bells have you bought our children? Because I've bought them zero bells"

"Also zero"

"Well then."

Luke walked closer to the chimney and thought that he could hear footsteps.

"There's somebody on the roof!"

Julie clapped her hand to her mouth. Were they being raided? Would they be taken hostage? She looked at Luke, a good man, but hardly a fighter. She had once seen him trip over his own socks. The idea that he would go full John McClane on a group of international terrorists was laughable.

Luke continued to strain his ears, standing with his head almost fully in the fireplace. Suddenly, he became acutely aware that somebody was climbing down his chimney.

Luke stepped back in shock.

==================

Chimney climbing was the worst part of the job. People always assumed that the travel would be the worst, but that was mostly performed by the reindeer. No, it was the slow descent down a sooty, warm fireplace, carrying an immensely impractical sack full of sharply pointed toys.

Of course, he could jump; he wasn't exactly sure how the magic worked, but he knew that it would cushion his fall. The problem was that the toys didn't get that same level of protection.

He'd lost count of the times he'd slipped and landed softly, only to discover that the carefully wrapped presents that the hard-working elves had prepared for him had turned into a fine powder after plummeting 20 feet.

So down he climbed. Looking forward to his mince pies and sherry.

His right foot finally found the bottom of the fireplace. He stepped backwards into the living room, and turned around.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

=====================

Luke didn't have time to think; he reacted instinctively, throwing his full bottle of Staropramen straight at the intruder's head. The bottle flew through the air, past the man entirely, and smashed against the mantelpiece.

Suds and small shards of glass flew back into the man's face. Julie also reacted instinctively, charging towards the man in red, and delivering a shoulder barge to the solar plexus.

Luke remembered that his mobile phone was in his pocket and fished it out. But the adrenaline coursing through his body was making his hands shake so badly that he couldn't unlock it.

"Julie, call the police"

The man in red was lying on his back, breathing heavily, but at the mention of the police, he sat up.

"Ho, ho, hold your horses, guys. I'm just here for your children."

Julie punched him in the face, and the man was out like a light.

=====================

Everything was black; his eye was burning, he felt nauseous, all he wanted to do was gently fall back into unconsciousness and deal with everything in the morning.

But the man's words were reverberating in his skull: "Julie, call the police". The police! He couldn't be arrested; he had 1.3 billion houses to visit.

He slowly opened his eyes and found the man and woman armed with what looked like badminton rackets, standing over him.

"He's waking up," said the woman. "HIT HIM, LUKE"

The man (Luke?) looked dubiously at his weapon. "I'm not sure how much damage this could actually do, to be honest"

Father Christmas sat up, raising his arms above his head to protect himself from the rackets.

"Wait, I think we've got off on the wrong foot here."

The man and woman stared at him. "You've just burst through our chimney saying you wanted our children".

Father Christmas thought about this. "Don't you know who I am?"

They both shook their heads. And suddenly his patience vanished.

"Fuck me, isn't it obvious? It's Christmas fucking Eve, and I'm dressed in red and walking down your chimney with a sack full of presents. Who on Earth did you think I was?"

"It's June 21st"

"What?"

"You said it was Christmas Eve; I'm just saying that it's June 21st"

Then everything went black again.

==============

Luke turned to Julie "Do you think this actually is Santa Claus?"

"I don't know. On the one hand, he looks like Santa Claus, and he just came through a chimney that's been blocked off for 30 years. But on the other hand, it's the middle of summer. What do you think?"

Luke looked over at the large man in the red suit with the stomach like a bowl full of jelly.

"I think it might be him"

"In summer?"

"Yes"

"In Coventry?"

"Yes"

"Unconscious on our floor?"

"Yes"

"Oh shit, this is not going to go down well with the kids"

Luke silently agreed with her but thought better of voicing it. Instead, he walked over to the sofa and grabbed one of the cushions.

"Here, I'm going to lift his head up, and you can put this cushion underneath it."

Luke positioned himself behind the unconscious man, then gently placed one hand behind his head and the other hand on his shoulder.

A strong and delicious smell of nutmeg emanated from the man, and Luke was pleasantly surprised to smell a gust of peppermint when the man breathed out a long snoring breath.

He lifted him up slightly, and as he did so, he could feel the man wake, for a second time.

=================

God his head hurt, he was being helped into a sitting position by the man with the vicious wife.

He was going to have to be a lot more careful with his choice of words this time.

Looking back on things, he had to admit that his actions had certainly warranted the attack. Landing on someone's roof, climbing down their chimney, and asking to visit their kids was only really acceptable at Christmas, and by the sounds of things, this wasn't Christmas.

"Excuse me, Mr Christmas"

The woman had an apologetic look on her face, and her voice seemed a lot calmer than earlier.

"Yes, Madam"

"Call me Julie"

"Julie"

"I just wanted to apologise for punching you"

"That's quite okay"

"And for screaming at my husband to assault you with a badminton racket"

"Also understandable given the circumstances"

"It's just that ...."

"Madam, I don't blame you for punching me, nor do I blame you for the badminton ... thing. Something has clearly gone terribly wrong. I'm fully aware that outside the context of December 24th my actions can seem ..."

"Fairly predatory?" The man, Luke, offered.

"Well, that's not quite the term I would use, but yes. Quite inappropriate"

"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?"

"Well, I don't suppose you have any mince pies?"

"Sorry"

"Or perhaps a small sherry?"

"We've got Staropramen, or white wine"

"Staropramen would be great."

"Perfect, you settle down in front of the tele, and Luke will grab you a beer."

Father Christmas climbed up off the floor, walked over to the settee, and sat back. Feet splayed out in front of him, he gratefully accepted an ice-cold bottle of premium Czech lager.

He briefly held the bottle to his face to help with the swelling, then took a long swig as Uruguay vs Cabo Verde kicked off.