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  Love Your Elf

  HELEN ALLAN

  Copyright © Helen Allan, 2020

  Published: 2020

  Hell West Press

  ISBN: Paperback Edition: 978-1-922469-35-9

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Helen Allan to be identified as the author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Love Your Elf

  Books by Helen Allan

  Fairy Song

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  3

  4

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  Dear Readers,

  Love Christmas stories with a difference?

  Books by Helen Allan

  The Kept Series

  The Bite Series

  The Scarab Series

  The Sorrow Series

  The Gypsy Blood series

  The Vampire Knights Series

  The Cassie’s Coven Series

  The Hunted Series

  Snowed in with Santa

  Love your elf

  For a full list of books visit: www.helenallan.com

  Fairy Song

  …For the stars’ soft eyes alone may see,

  And the flowers alone may know,

  The feasts we hold, the tales we tell:

  So ’tis time for the Elves to go….

  (excerpt Fairy Song: Louisa May Alcott, 1855)

  1

  HOLLY

  I study the print-out of the till receipts for the day and groan.

  “I am bad at this. Running a hardware store is just not my forte, how the hell am I going to explain to Dad that I let the business slip so far south, just when he needs it the most?”

  I shiver as I pull my jacket closer around me and unclip my name badge, the same badge that I had worn every holiday when I worked in the store for my parents; presented to me when I was nine and over the moon to serve customers. Its little gilt lettering ‘Holly Goode – Daughter’ still clear, but the background now faded, the edges worn.

  I drop it into the till, ready for tomorrow, and push the drawer shut forcefully. As usual, it won’t quite shut, and I turn and bang it with my hip, hard, causing it to slam. Tomorrow, I know, I’ll need to prise it open with a screwdriver before the shop opens.

  ‘Not that it will get used much, anyway,’ I think ruefully as I rub my hands over my tired face.

  Ordinarily, this shop would be toasty warm, full of people shopping for last-minute lights and other DIY projects, Christmas jingles ringing out up and down the aisles along with laughter and good wishes. But this was not an ordinary year.

  “Can’t even afford to fix the heating!” I mutter as I stand up straight, turn off the music, and call out for Sapphire to collect her gear.

  “In a minute,” she shouts back, her voice carrying the usual irritation she exudes in everything she says and does. For an eleven-year-old, she is the epitome of Emo-sass. There was no way she would accept a name badge, no way she would even consider helping out in the store – and frankly, with her shitty attitude, it suits me that she stays out the back, reading.

  “Well, you can sleep here if you keep me waiting,” I shout back.

  So far, in the short time I’ve been looking after her, I’ve figured out only two things work to get her to do what I want – bullying or bribery. No amount of sweet talk or appealing to her good nature had any effect on her - she’s eleven going on sixteen.

  I hear her grumble, but the shuffling of books being stuffed into a backpack indicates she is doing as I asked.

  “What a year to babysit a monster,” I sigh, “Aunty Holly needs a wine – and a life!”

  The jingle of the bell on the front door startles me from my depressed self-talk. Looking up, I paste on a smile, hoping this customer will be the one to turn around the day’s takings – the last one too. I should actually have locked the door ten minutes ago when the business hours were up.

  ‘So tired. I really need to get more sleep, stop worrying - and focus before I make a monumental cock-up.’

  As I hear the customer’s footsteps echo on the store’s old, timber floorboards, I wonder which local in this small town had suddenly realised they needed something and decided to pop round to Goode’s Hardware. Most now seemed to make the trip a few hundred metres north to the massive new store that had opened up earlier this year with the slogan: ‘Cheaper is Better - Always!’

  ‘A nice one?’ I wonder, ‘someone who values loyalty and family business over huge multinationals? Or someone who just couldn’t be fucked driving a little further.’

  I wait for the customer to round the first aisle and catch my first glimpse of him. He’s tall, broad-shouldered and wearing jeans and a red and white checked lumberjack coat. But it’s the little Santa hat with white pompoms that bobble when he walks that captures my attention.

  I can’t help but smile at the hat.

  As he strides towards me, his long, muscular legs making short work of the aisle, I get a good look at him and catch my breath.

  ‘Whoa! Hellooooo stranger.’

  “Hi,” I manage to say professionally as he approaches, “how can I help you?”

  “Hi,” he smiles, two rows of perfect white teeth gleaming at me, chocolate eyes sparkling. I notice his dark hair contrasts perfectly with the white faux fur fringe of his hat, and wonder if he picked it because he knows how good it makes him look, or if someone who loves him bought it for him, for that reason.

  ‘What am I thinking? Men like this always know how good they look.’

  “Uh, hi,” I add again, frowning as I wait for him to answer my question. He seems so self-assured as he stands before me, saying nothing, as though he expects me to fill in the silence with some babble about the holidays or the weather – but that isn’t going to happen, not after the day I’ve had, or the month for that matter.

  “I’m Kris,” he says eventually, his voice deep, smooth, “I’m looking for work.”

  “Oh,” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  ‘Guess this isn’t the big customer I’ve been waiting for, after all.’

  “I’m sorry, we’re not hiring.”

  I don’t add that I’m not even drawing a wage from the store at this stage, that every penny made goes into helping Mum and Dad afford to stay in the city, where they need to be for her treatment. I can’t add this, not only because it’s private, but because my heart aches at the thought of what she is going through, that I’m not by her side, that I might lose her.

  I give the stranger an apologetic smile, but he makes no move to leave.

  “I’ve worked all my life in a workshop, I’m experienced with any type of tool, all construction. I know my hardware, and I’m very good with my hands,” he says, meeting my eyes, “it would only be for a few weeks.”

  ‘I’ll just bet you are good with your hands. And your lips, and your…’

  “Only a few weeks?” I frown, “are you on a working
holiday?”

  “No,” he chuckles, “I was recently laid-off. But my long-term prospects are good.”

  I study him where he leans, relaxed against the counter, from his jaunty Christmas hat to his confident eyes and full, slightly amused, lips.

  ‘Delicious – but sadly, way out of my league and out of luck if he is looking for work in a town like this, at a time like this.’

  “Perhaps you can try the big hardware store up the road,” I offer, “they might need some casual staff at this time of year.”

  He shrugs, “I tried them, the manager seemed somewhat…”

  I snort, “mean?”

  “Asshole was the word that springs to mind,” he nods, smirking.

  I laugh, the first laugh I’ve had all day, but stop with an ‘oomph’ as the till inexplicably springs open and hits me in the stomach.

  “Problem with the catch?” he chuckles.

  “Ugh,” I wave my hands at the offending machine, “it’s never worked properly.”

  “May I?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he walks around to my side of the counter and bends down to study the till. Pulling out the violent drawer, he makes a few adjustments at its back and plunges his hand deep inside the till cavity, twisting something, before replacing the drawer with an easy, soft slide.

  “Thank you,” I shake my head, “God, Dad’s tried to fix that half a hundred times.”

  “They can be tricky,” he smiles.

  I rub my stomach where the edge of the drawer hit and stare at him.

  “If you’re so good at fixing things. How come you are looking for work just a few weeks out from Christmas? Your boss must have been a real grinch to lay you off at this time of year.”

  “Santa,” he says mildly, “he fired me. Hence me being down here in the human world, seeking employment.”

  “Wait,” I hold up my hand, smiling despite myself, “you’re trying to tell me you were fired by Santa? The Santa.”

  “That’s right,” he shrugs, “a misunderstanding that I’m sure will be rectified closer to Christmas Day when he visits to deliver gifts, “in the meantime I need a job.”

  “Working for Santa, huh?” I can’t help but giggle, amused at his deadpan delivery - the absurd always makes me laugh. “You don’t look like a reindeer, so I’m going to go with,” I cover my mouth with my hand, try to stifle another giggle, “an elf?”

  “Yes,” he nods, completely sincerely.

  “I see,” I nod slowly, matching his deadpan face, “you’re an elf.”

  He shrugs.

  “Aren’t you, you know,” I wave my hand up and down the length of his amazing body, “a little big for an elf?”

  ‘A little hot?’

  “It’s true,” he grins, “no part of me is small.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Just myth,” he shrugs, “elves are much the same size as humans.”

  “Right,” I nod.

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder if you’re joking, or mental – what a shame if you had a crazy brain inside that otherwise gorgeous package. Still, regardless, I can’t employ you.’

  “Well, uh, Elf.”

  “It’s Kris,” he smiles.

  “Like I said, Kris, business is slow, so…”

  I’m about to round the counter, to begin to walk him towards the door, when Sapphire joins us.

  “Hello, little girl,” Kris smiles.

  “Yeah, hi,” she mutters, glancing at him and hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder, “can we go now, Holly?”

  “It’s Aunty Holly,” I remind her, “and yes, we are closing up now.”

  ‘Hint, hint crazy unemployed person, time to go.’

  “It’s very cold in here,” he says, as I start to head to the front door, hoping he will follow and that’s he’s not some kind of freak who plans to suddenly pull out a gun and demand all the cash.

  ‘And he’d be sadly disappointed if he did because there is none.’

  “Yeah, the heating’s broken,” I shrug, still walking.

  “I can fix that,” he offers.

  I spin slowly and study him.

  “You can fix heating systems?”

  “Like I said,” he shrugs, “I’m very good with my hands.”

  “I’m told the electrics were melted by a burst water pipe,” I add slowly, “and it will cost thousands to repair, maybe even need replacing.”

  “I doubt that,” he smiles, his eyes briefly running down my body, before returning to my face. The look was so quick, I could almost be mistaken. But it suddenly makes me feel annoyed that he is checking me out, and embarrassed that I’m just in my usual work wear, dusty old jeans, Goode’s T-shirt, and jacket.

  “Do you doubt the information or my ability to understand the information?” I narrow my eyes at him.

  He says nothing for a minute, simply holding my gaze, before seemingly deciding something, and nodding.

  “I apologise,” he says quietly, “I have taken up too much of your time when you have obviously had a long day. I wish you good tidings.”

  I stand, quietly, as he passes me and reaches the door, but as the little bell tinkles to indicate he has opened it, I grit my teeth.

  “Wait.”

  He pauses one foot in, one out.

  “If you can fix the heating system, you have a job – at least for a couple of weeks.”

  ‘Although I have no idea how I’m going to pay you.’

  “Thank you,” he smiles, holding the door wide and stepping back as Sapphire shoulders past, her backpack grazing his chest.

  I nod at him before jogging back up the aisle to the counter to grab my bag, and fast walking again to the door, where he is still waiting, holding it open for me.

  “I can’t pay you very much,” I caution him.

  “I don’t need much,” he shrugs.

  “OK, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. We start at 5am – doors open to the public at ten.”

  “Can I have a key?”

  “Don’t push your luck,” I roll my eyes, indicating he should step away, and quickly locking the door.

  “I could start work on the heating system tonight,” he offers, “have it perhaps up and running by morning.”

  “Go home,” I shake my head, “the heating specialist who examined it last month said the system would take at least a week to fix. I imagine there will be a lag in getting parts at this time of year, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes longer. I’ll induct you in the morning, and you can start then.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to stay,” he adds quietly, as I turn to make my way to the car.

  “What?” I spin back, unsure I’d heard him correctly.

  “North Pole,” he shrugs, “fired.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I sigh heavily, looking from him to the car, and back again. I can’t very well invite a strange man, a man who thinks he’s an elf, no less, back to my parents’ house – not when I’m responsible for an eleven-year-old girl’s safety.

  But he looks so honest, so sincere.

  ‘And here is my monumental cock-up.’ I think ruefully, as I throw him the store keys.

  “Look, you can fix the heating system in exchange for room and board, after that we’ll see how we go. There’s a pull-out sofa bed in the office, and food in the staff fridge,” I mutter, turning to the car before I can change my mind.

  “You are a kind-hearted woman,” he calls out, as I start the car.

  “I’m sure I’m going to regret this,” I mutter as I pull out from the kerb.

  “You’re an idiot,” Sapphire agrees, “and he’s a nut job.”

  “Thank you for your vote of confidence,” I growl. ‘asshole kid.’

  2

  KRIS

  The glimpse I had of her through the large, arched windows, was what stopped me in my tracks.

  It wasn’
t her long, auburn hair, pulled up in a messy bun, but shining beautifully under the lights in a tricolour of red and gold, or her soft, blue eyes, evident once I began speaking to her. It was her expression – tired, defeated almost, and at the same time so warm, so kind, and so obviously needing help.

  I’d walked in without really thinking it a viable option for employment, but the smell of timber and chainsaw oil immediately set me at ease. Workshops are my world, and this big old, slightly decrepit shop, just waiting to be spruced up, felt like home. It was a complete juxtaposition to the formaldehyde smelling store up the road where my last discussion with a hardware manager hadn’t exactly gone to plan.

  Being honest had its place in the elf world, but humans? No, they fobbed off anything beyond their basic understanding of their own kind as mental instability; simply couldn’t fathom that there might be other realms, other beings.

  Children understand, they accept explanations of elves as easily as they accept those with different coloured skin. But adults? Somewhere along the way, they lose their sense of wonder, of magic, of belief.

  She still has it, though, which is odd. She’d let me stay based on careful consideration of my eyes; studied me the way a painter does, as though she was looking for the minutest of hues and shadows, rather than just seeing a blob of colour. And whatever she’d seen, along with me fixing the wonky till, had been enough for her to trust me. I’d felt slightly disconcerted as she studied me, as though she was looking into my soul.

  I glance around now, alone in the basement of the store. I started in a place like this but haven’t worked on a shop floor in years. In my world I’m a corporate giant, gold-fingers, nothing I touch doesn’t turn to riches. Its why I’m headed for the top job – it shouldn’t be a problem to turn this old place around.

  And I do enjoy a challenge.

  I grimace at the heating system, with its knot of melted wires and damp base, and shake my head.

  “Well, maybe not this much of a fucking challenge - time for a little magic.”

  Standing back, I wave my hands over the antiquated machine and watch as the sprites get to work.