Friends in Need

Evening Post, Volume CIV, Issue 147, 19 December 1927, Page 21

Friends in Need

The Story of a R«al Santa Claus

It was only too likely to be the last Christmas-tree party that the Spencers Would ever give, ana, of course, it was madness to give it at all in their circumstances, as Jack and Gillian Spencer had agreed mournfully, and yet laughing at themselves, as they always <Ud.

- They were going to deprive Michael and Cabriel, his little sister, of their Christmas-tree this year at all events. Next year—they did not like to think of next year—they were gojng to be separated. They could no longer keep a home together, and Jack was going out alone to the ends of the" earth to seek his fortune and theirs. He had fallen on unemployment, or only temporary employment, after the war, and little by little they had given up everything—sometimes even hope. The term of years for which they had their house would be up at the March quartor, and Jack was going to South America for five years—to make good if he could in that time, and Gillian and the children were going to Aunt Gina, in a remote part of Suffolk many miles from a railway station.

It was not a pleasant prospect for two lovers who could not endure being parted for even a week or a month. They did not talk much about it, or they talked with a cheerfulness they did not feel.

Gillian had to remind herself very often, of the people whose husbands never came home; and Jack had to look at his new employment very hard, persuading himself that he was wonderfully lucky to get this job when so many po"or fellows were still in the terrible state he had been. He had to persuade himself and Gillian that her Uncle Joe, through whom this chance had come, was no end of a good fellow, whereas at the back of his mind lie thought Mr. Joseph Travers a hardhearted rich man who could have helped them in a way at least to keep them together, without presenting this hard alternative of a five years' parting. He had never seen Mr. Travers, nor had <.6illlan. He had gone seeking his fortune in South America before Gillian ■was thought of, and he had taken a pretty long time to find it, though he had found it eventually, too late to be of much good to anybody. Jack rather judged Mr. Joseph Travers, like Aunt Giua, who had opposed their marriage as improvident, and offering a" home to- Gillian and the children had. said: "I told you so." So with a sardonic humour had called the young couple Jack and Jill, warning them that they were heading for calamity. v

His poor little woman! He was afraid she was not going to be very happy at that remote house in Suffolk, where Aunt Gina, an elderly spinster as strong as a horse, farmed her own land and carried on twenty activities. "It will be splendidly healthy for the children," Gillian said, a quiver passing over her face, "and Aunt Gina is not really as she pretends to be. I know she will adore the children, and she has always been very good to me, though in that queer, hard way of hers."

They were tying the presents on to the Christmas-tree. It was their farewell party as well as the children's Christmas-tree, so they had been rather prodigal, and they had bidden all their neighbours and friends, and there ■were presents for everybody.

At least there would no longer be the money worries, the debts creeping up, the terror about the rent, about a thousand things.' Gillian would no longer have money worries at the Gabled House; the children would live on the fat of the land. There would be Jack's leters to live on, and the certainty that Jack wa*s making good. But the absence, that was something Gillian did .not dare to think of. And the chances of life and death for five years. If she and the children could only have gone with him!

Sho was always having to comfort herself in these days. At first she thought she could bear anything now the employment h:id come. Her poor boy had suffered so much, and she for him. It bad been a slower agony than.tho agony of the war, or perhaps she had been less able for it. But now the parting drew near she did not know how she was going to bear it ilr that beautiful, lonely place in Suffolk; the long summer days, the long winter nights. At least she would have the children; but poor Jack. They were making all the preparations for this Christmas party in a rather feverish state of mind, distracting themselves with childish things because of the coming parting. It. was three days before Christmas and the party was to be on Boxing Day. Jack was pretty busy, going to the city every day training for his new post. So it was only in the evenings, after dinner, that they could work together at the Christmas tree.

They were vorkiug together this evening, and there were moments

when Gillian could hardly see what she was doing for tears, and sometimes their hahds.met by accident and clasped for a second and parted. Suddenly there was a loud postman's knock. There were a good many presents coming for the children these days, and letters and' gifts for Jack and Gillian, who were very popular. But this evening there were only two letters. Gillian's was from Aunt Gina. The hard, angular writing was all over the envelope.

She opened it listlessly and stared. There was a cheque for £50 enclosed.

"You'll be wanting to outfit yourself and the children," wrote Aunt Gina. 'I'd like you to look nice before the neighbours. I don't suppose you've anything to spare these days. Can you put me up for a few days from the 23rd to the 30th 1 lam tired of spending my Christmas alone or with strangers. My friends are dropping off. Wire reply, and I'll be with you on the 23rd."

She handed the cheque to Jack. It was very'welcome. She had been getting a little dowdy, though Jack would never discover it. It was very kind of Aunt Gina. But the letter fretted. It was Aunt Gina all over —doing the right thing in the wrong way.

"You'll get yourself a pretty frock to-morrow," said Jack. "She's a decent old lady after all."

"She's coming to stay for Christmas, Jack. She'll b&.here for the party." "Never mind," said Jack, consolingly. "She'll only think she's justified in her opinion of our feeklessness. You wouldnt' deny her that pleasure. Anyhow—every penny of that 50 quid is to b spent on yourself and the children. I've got my outfit from the company. And these clothes' are weii «ut. I can do with them till tire outfit comes along."

Aunt Gina arrived on the night of the 23rd. She was accompanied by mountainous hampers. She might have known about the party in advance and about the Christmas Day dinner to some of Jack's pals who had not been as lucky as he.

She was certainly generous. There was a turkey aa big as an ostrich, sausages, eggs, home-cured bacon, home-made bread, butter, cakes; they migh have been provisioning "for a siege at the little house in Dolwyn road.

On Christmas Eve she offered to take the children off Gillian's hands, so chartered a taxi soon after breakfast and, with a warning to Gillian not to expect them till she saw them, do parted with the two jubilant little people, who were fortunately very sensible for five and seven. -

, They did not come back till the afternoon, and Aunt Gina had splendid reports of the children's good behaviour. They had shopped all the morning and lunched at a restaurant, and shopped again; and they had brought home more parcels and boxes, with which Aunt Gina was busy in her own room after the children, had gone to bed.

What had come to her? Her gifts were munificent. She had given Gillian a fur coat and Jack a gold watch. She might have known what had become of the other in the thin days. She had made no remark about the sparseness of the furniture—they had got rid of a good many things—and she had fitted out the children from top to toe at Debenham and Frebody's, besides giving them carte blanche at Hamley's

Slie was the success of the dinner to Jnck's old pals. So sympathetic and understanding. And she hail offered a .jo' t Trevor, who was Dearest the.end of his tether; and she might be able to iiinl room for one or two of the others.

The hearts of tho young people had warmed towards her. They.were very soft hearts indeed, aud very ready to warm. Jack found himself on Christmas night, when everyone had gone, i.ud Gillian was upstairs with the children, talking to her with an entire forgetfulness of her supposed hardness and lack of sympathy. It was really much easier now to leave Gillian and the children, now that Aunt Gina had proved ■ so amazingly, unexpectedly kind.

Being a simple person, he let more o" his attitude of mind slip into what he was saying than he intended, and Aunt Gina listened to him with an amused, half-cynical smile.

"Gillian was always a dear little girl," she said at> last. "I couldn't keep her from being afraid of me. I had that hard way. I'd had to be bard once, and it grew. It's not so easy to get through it when it grows."

There was one disappointment about the Christmas tree, for Archer, the old family friend, who had always brought his friend Hassan, the famous artist, who was the merriest man on the London stage, to be Santa Glaus, had failed this year. Hassan was down with influenza, but Mr. Archer had found a substitute, whom he hoped would do as well.

The substitute began by falling down

' the chimney o£ the spare room over i I tho drawing-room, -with a fearful clat- - ter of fire-irons, to the huge excite- 1 ment of the children. When he ap- i peared, covered with snow from head £ to foot and with a very red nose, he did not seem a penny the worse, but ; stamped about and blew on his fingers and cracked jokes, and altogether be- J hayed in a most Santa Clausian manner. { Everyone voted the new Santa Claus 1 even better than the old one. And 1 the Spencers had certainly been very ! extravagant, for, in addition to the presents on the tree, thero was a great < reserve stock in the background, from 1 which everyone seemed to get the very < thing they wanted. Apparently Miss Georgina Travers had been asking ques- i tions and discovering just what people 1 would like. ;

The oddest gifts of all were the sealed envelopes, of which there was one for each of Jack's down-and-out pals, who had been persuaded to come to the Christmas tree, and were standing a little apart in a desolate companionship with each other, and away from the more fortunate man.

Each envelope was marked, "Not to be taken till after dinner," and there was great laughter over it, for Santa Claus said they contained pills for sad hearts!

There was also a sealed envelope for Jack Spencer, who thrust it into his pocket and forgot all about it. And present the guests were all leaving, with a great wrapping up of little people and gathering together of gifts by mothers and nurses, not one of whom had been forgotten. Santa Claus was to stay for dinner with Mr. Archer and Jack's poor pals, who had been asked at the last moment t< eat up the good things Aunt Gina had provided, ' and drink the champagne, which had arrived from an unknown donor late on Christmas Eve night. •

Santa Claus came down in his proper garments to dinner—a little" red-faced elderly gentleman, with a twinkling eye. He sat on one side of Gillian at dinner, and Mr. Arther on the other side. Aunt Gina sat by Jack, and was very amiable to him, ana the rest of the space was filled in by the old pals. No one thought of inquiring the elderly gentleman's name, and when one of the old pals addressed him as

jur. Santa uiaus, that seemed quite good enough for the rest of the table. It was a very enjoyable occasion. Jack and Gillian confessed to each other afterwards that they had a strange misty sense of unreality about it all. Here was Aunt Gina, who had disapproved of their marriage, and kept up her attitude of cynical disapproval ever since, being as nice as possible to them and everybody; and Gillian had a queer idea that Aunt Gina and Santa Claus had some kind of friendly knowledge, of each other. She thought she had intercepted glances betwen them—smiles. It came to the cracker stage of tho dinner. They had all drunk each other's health in champagne, and everyone was feeling very happy and friendly, though the shadows might be lying in wait for them close at hand. When the crackers had been pulled

and the gaiety began to subside a little —vory soon now the guests must take their hats and overcoats and go out into the cold night—Mr. Santa Claus stood up.

"A speech! A speech!" cried one of Jack's pals, and they all echoed him.

"The first thing I want done," said Mr. Santa Claus, "is for each of you gentlemen to open and read the letter received from Santa Claus by my hand this afternoon. Please begin, Mr. Jack Spencer."

Jack opened the envelope, and took out what it held. It was a letter from the London house of his South American firm.

It had been decided, owing to the representations of Mr. Joseph Travers, to keep Mr. Spencer at the London house. An interview with the manager at Mr. Spencer's convenience, to arrange details, would follow.

He looked up from the letter at the face of Mr. Santa Claus.

'It is a practical joke," he began. "TCt isn't, my boy," said Mr. Santa Claus. "I'm one of the biggest shareholders in the South American Nitrate Corporation, and I'm also Gillian's Uncle Joe. I've done nothing much for you up to this, but my sister had been sending me good reports of you. I got you taken on to the South American business, although you didn't kno.w it, but you'll do very well at home, though perhaps you won't make quite as big a fortune. Perhaps you won't need it. Upon my word, I don't know how you had the courage to leave my nieeo- and those two beautiful children. It was a test case. I don't say I'd have let you down if you hadn't gone, you know, but it shows what stuff you and she are made of."

"I couldn't help it, sir," said Jack bewilderedly. His pals were staring at their letters, each of which contained £50 "for immediate expenses," and an appointment card with the manager of the Nitrate Corporation and one or two other important businesses.

So that was how Santa Claus came to Jack and Gillian Spencer and to half a dozen of Jack's pals.