A GIFT FOR QUINTON LOCK.


Now is the time that you, the good people of the Global Village, were told what really happened to Quinton Lock’s Empire last Christmas. Of course you will remember, how could you forget, that the world’s richest man hated Christmas with all his being? For what other reason could he have chosen a time of celebration to announce the loss of over a million jobs.

December 18th. 8pm. Global Television: Normal programmes are suspended for a historic announcement by Quinton Lock, benefactor of the Global Empire.

“I have only a few words to say to you at this happy time.” He sniggered.


“Christmas is usually a time of happiness and celebration, but this year I am going to spoil it by announcing redundancies to take effect immediately. Furthermore, to all those young ones out there, your parents have been telling you lies all these years. There is no Father Christmas!”

Millions of parents rushed to cover their little ones’ ears.

Lisa Wale was a parent. She was also a reporter for one of Quinton Lock’s Global newspapers. Her determination to prove him wrong was strengthened when her five-year-old son, Sam asked, “Is there really a Father Christmas, Mummy?”
“Of course there is darling, and I will prove it.” she replied.

A friend once told her that everyone, including Quinton Lock, had a weak spot. If she could find his, she would be able to put a stop to his dastardly plot. .

After the scrooge like Mr. Lock had revealed his Christmas ‘gift’, Lisa recollected her Christmas memories to help ease Sam’s confusion. He asked questions about Christmas trees, how to build a snowman, the taste of warm mince pies and of games played around a roaring log fire. Lisa was determined to make it a perfect Christmas for Sam and children all over the world.

Six days before Christmas Lisa was ready to put her plan into action.
Quinton Lock lived and worked in a one hundred storey giant edifice so huge, it was said that orbiting spacemen could easily spot it.
She sat in a small coffeehouse to observe the comings and goings at Quinton’s headquarters.

It was innocent at first. A huge box wagon gliding gently to a halt. Then another arrived, and another, until there were six vans bearing the logo, “RAWLINSONS FRUIT JELLY” in bright yellow letters. The street was awash with deliverymen carrying large boxes into Quinton Towers. Lisa watched the frenzied activity with fascination.

“There’s only one way to find out what’s going on,” Lisa muttered.

She followed a deliveryman through the swing doors and noticed he was carrying a box inscribed

“FRUIT JELLY-SECRET RECIPE FOR MR QUINTON LOCK.”

It was the fifteenth box John, the deliveryman, had delivered so far but this one had to be taken to the top floor of the Tower. Lisa flashed one of her special smiles and said he would take it for him.

She arrived at the penthouse suite and knocked on the huge panelled door. One side creaked open. Lisa gulped.
Peering round the door was a tiny bespectacled figure.
“Special delivery for Mr. Lock,” she announced.

Lisa turned the box to display its logo.

“Rawlinson’s Raspberry Jelly –Secret Recipe.’

Drooling, he rose to open the box and taste its contents, but Lisa stepped forward to block his path.

“Get out of my way,” he screeched. “I adore raspberry jelly. I cannot live without it.,” he spluttered, licking his lips in anticipation.

Lisa had found Quinton Lock’s Achilles’ heel.

He tried to push past her.

Lisa refused to move.

Quinton was stunned.

He was used to getting his own way. Again he tried to reach the box, but Lisa stood her ground. He retreated and tears began to form behind his owl-like spectacles.

Lisa was determined to show Quinton Lock that Father Christmas really did exist. She wanted badly to prove this to the man, who was destroying dreams, but he was crying, and Lisa’s own Achilles’ heel was the sight of a tear. It did not matter who was shedding them, tears melted her heart.

Here was the man who owned the world’s largest company, lived in the world’s tallest building, and drove the world’s biggest car, crying because he was not allowed to open a box of raspberry jelly.

Lisa guided him to a reclining chair where he flopped sighing heavily.

She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and let the words flow.
“I am one of the people for whom Christmas is going to be miserable because you have spoilt it for my five-year old son by saying that Father Christmas doesn’t exist.”

“But…but….” Quinton tried to interrupt.

“No buts, let me finish,” she snapped, hoping he would not cry again. “In that box with the jelly is a new secret recipe. If you were to share that new jelly, just think of how many smiling faces there would be.”

“You mean people would actually like me? But what do I have to do to get the jelly and recipe? I must have them”

“You can have your jelly if you do as I tell you. Just leave it to me.” Lisa took out her reporter’s notebook and made a list of instructions for Quinton. She picked up his private office phone and issued orders. Finally, she looked at him squarely.

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I’ll be watching the television at 7.30pm and if I don’t hear what I want to hear, you will never see this jelly or recipe again.” Lisa moved to the table, picked up the box and marched from room.
.
“I still don’t believe in Father Christmas!” he called defiantly.

“Oh, you will.” she murmured.” You will.”

Christmas Eve.

At 7.30 Lisa and Sam sat huddled in front of a blank TV screen. 7.45 came and went, then 7.50.

Nothing.

Sam grew restless.

“Where is Father Christmas?” he demanded

“He’ll be here soon, darling,” Lisa said hopefully.

. ‘My plan hasn’t worked,’ she thought.

. Then at 7.53 precisely it happened.

The screen fluttered into life.

“Ladies, Gentlemen and children everywhere, this is Quinton Lock, your global benefactor. Tonight for the first time in my life I am going to say ‘sorry’ – sorry for trying to ensure everybody had a miserable Christmas. I’m, going to give everyone their jobs back plus a big bonus, and…” he hesitated, “furthermore I’m told that when I leave this building someone will be waiting for me, so I leave you now and wish you all a very merry Christmas.”

“But,” Sam wailed, “where’s Father Christmas?”

“Be patient,” Lisa whispered.

The next shot showed Quinton Lock emerging into the cold night air.

The look of amazement was worth a thousand ‘exclusives’ to Lisa.

Standing proudly in front of Global Towers was the world’s largest sleigh with five pairs of huge antlered reindeer, their nostrils puffing clouds of vapour as they waited patiently for instructions from a smiling figure, dressed in a white-fringed red suit sitting on the driving seat. Behind him on the sleigh, a massive pile of colourfully wrapped small parcels. The sleigh was bedecked with silver bells, while
the magnificent reindeer were garlanded with gold harness. The spectacle had a majestic aura, lluminated by a natural radiance.

“Come,” a voice called and Quinton looked up to see the red-suited figure gesturing to him. He climbed aboard the sleigh and he was given a protective greatcoat.

“You will need this. The night is cold.”

Quinton did as he was told.

“Only few minutes more and I’ll be back in the warm with my jelly.”

Lisa and Sam watched in fascination.



“My call to the editor paid dividends. He’s done a wonderful job. I wonder who he got to play the part. Probably it’s the editor, he likes to dress up,’ she chuckled.


The look on Sam’s face made it all worthwhile.

He was mesmerized, watching the preparations for Father Christmas to deliver presents to the worlds children. Sam believed now.
And that should have been it.

It had turned out very well indeed and Quinton had proved to the people of the Global Village that he wasn’t a Scrooge and to the children that Father Christmas was real.

He’d kept his side of the bargain and now he could get down from the sleigh.

Looking over his shoulder, he pondered.

“What will I do with all those boxes of jelly? Oh I might as well give it all away.”

That is where it was supposed to finish.

But at that moment Lisa’s phone rang.

It was her editor saying that he was sorry he could not get through the snow with the lorry and sleigh.

Lisa turned back to the TV. “But………………………but I thought…………..” her voice trailed.


The red-suited, jovial figure picked up the reins and shook them once briefly. The silver bells jingled merrily

His cry “YO” echoed cheerily along the street.


What happened next, as you all saw on Global television, was a surprise to everyone, including Lisa, Sam and Quinton Lock….especially Quinton Lock. There was a look of astonishment on his face as the five pairs of magnificent reindeer eased forward as one and took the strain on the gold harness. Apart from the crump of hooves in the freshly fallen snow, the snort of flared nostrils and the musical tinkle of bells, there was no other sound.

Quinton’s eyes became huge circles and knuckles almost as white as the surrounding snow as he gripped the seat tightly.

There was a swish of sleigh skids on the snow, leaving wide parallel tracks. The beautiful silver and gold spectacle quickly gathered pace to the musical accompaniment of every bell jingling merrily.

Within seconds the reindeers’ hooves rose, padding at the air, like ballerinas lifted by invisible wires. In their wake was a gentle flutter of snow and the mild billowing of white vapour from flared nostrils .The swish of the skids ceased as the golden sleigh lifted into the night air.
The bass snorting of the reindeer provided a contrast to the soprano tinkle-jingle of silver bells, before blending into melodic music

After gathering height, Father Christmas steered a wide course and passed back overhead, the radiant glow of the ensemble illuminating a greater area than any earthly light.

Father Christmas stood and holding the reins with one hand, waved to every entranced spectator as he sped on his global journey.


“See, Father Christmas really is true!” Sam shouted excitedly
.
“Yes, darling,” Lisa replied, gazing in awe at the spectacle. She moved to the window for confirmation of this amazing event, but all she could see was a brilliant lone star shining far away in the East.

But that’s another story.