Frosty Wind Made Moan

19

19

His Dad, with his new family, winked in and out of sight as the crowds meandered around the shopping centre. Toby stood up, walking forward a couple of steps. Stopped only by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to the old man, who shook his head. Of course. If his Dad saw him, it would only raise questions. Questions that Toby couldn't hope to answer.

As his Dad came nearer, he could see him much better and it shocked Toby. He looked pretty much the same as the last time he had seen him, almost a year ago, at the last Christmas time. Only, now Toby could see grey in his Dad's hair that he hadn't seen before. And wrinkles upon his face that seemed to have appeared over the course of the year.

Staying within the old man's protective bubble, Toby watched as the family almost reached them and he could see something else. The way his Dad walked. Stiff. Almost pained. He moved his legs, not in that old, sauntering fashion that he had always walked, but with straight knees. As though he hobbled and wobbled forward, leaning upon his knew wife, not only for affection, but support.

"Something's wrong with him." Again he stepped forward and, again, the old man held him back. "Is he ill?"

The old man didn't answer. Now Toby thought about it, the last time he had seen his Dad, he hadn't moved from the chair where he sat. His new wife, Ellen, had fussed around him in a way that Toby's Mum never had. Fetching him things, looking after the newborn baby. Toby hadn't thought much of it, at the time, but his Dad had never been the kind to let others do things for him.

The family reached them, looking up at the tree that sat in pride of place within the shopping centre. Ellen turned the buggy around for the baby to see and his eyes lit up at the flashing lights and the colours. The baby gurgled and laughed and Toby couldn't help but smile. His younger brother. Before, he had only seen a replacement for him. Now he saw the baby. The cute baby.

"It's too early for him to sit on Santa's knee!" Toby's Dad rubbed the small of his back, both grimacing and smiling as Ellen crouched beside the buggy. "He won't understand. It'll just be some fat bloke ho-ho-hoing at him."

"Oh, shush. Timmy'll enjoy the colours and the feel of it." Ellen pointed up towards the tree, allowing Timmy to grip her finger. "He doesn't need to understand it. And I want him to have his picture taken with Santa Claus."

Toby's Dad let out a huge sigh, shaking his head. Toby remembered meeting Santa, once. His Mum and Dad probably took him to see Santa plenty of times, but Toby remembered one time, when he didn't like the Santa sat upon the throne, surrounded by fake presents. He couldn't remember why, but he simply didn't like him. He cried until his Dad had picked him up, tickling his belly to help him stop crying.

He agreed with his Dad, though. The little boy, Timmy, didn't look old enough to know why there was a tree here, or what Christmas was. The lights and colours, though, appeared to fascinate him and he bounced in his buggy, laughing as his mum crouched beside him. Maybe he would enjoy sitting on Santa's knee.

With a look to the side, it occurred to Toby that he hadn't felt scared around the old man. 'Father Christmas' and definitely not 'Santa Claus', apparently. Even when he had found the old man in his flat, he had felt more cautious than scared. Even when the old man had carried him away to far away lands and times, Toby hadn't felt scared, as such. Anxious a couple of times, but not outright scared. Or was that his mind playing tricks on him again?

"Fine, but I think it's an unnecessary expense for a couple of minutes on some bloke's knee, a shoddy 'present' and a badly framed photo." A yelp came from the lips of Toby's Dad as Ellen pinched his leg. "We could spend the money on something better."