Matilda grins, her red lips parting to show a perfect set of white teeth. ‘Yeah,’ she says with a throaty chuckle. ‘Run for your life.’
22 Run for Your Life
Friday 16 December
I join the rest of the players congregated in the hallway, the children, me and Lila all sectioned off from the adults now, the sitting room doors closed behind us as we wait for God knows what is about to happen.
Lila is busy hushing an anxious Milo as they wait by the staircase, my way to her blocked by jostling children who skitter about the entrance hall with pre-game excitement. There simply isn’t enough time now to ask what the hell I’m supposed to do other than run. Besides, I too have more pressing matters to deal with. Billy tugs my trouser leg again and I crouch to meet him at eye level.
‘What’s our plan then, team captain?’ I ask brightly, but his concerned little face makes it clear it’s going to take a lot more than my casual optimism to quash his mounting fear.
‘We gock to run away and hide, Auntie Harry-ept,’ he tells me with solemn decisiveness.
‘No problem. We can do that, easy-peasy. I know loads about hiding spots. Is that all we need to do in the game, honey?’
I’m aware I should have dug deeper into the actual rules of the game before now, instead of trying to decipher them from a terrified toddler at the absolute last minute. But I had other things on my mind. And a game’s a game; you only really pick them up as you play anyway.
‘You good a’ games, Auntie Harry-ept?’ Billy asks, giving me a quizzical look I find oddly exposing.
‘Um, yeah. I think so.’ He looks unimpressed, so I follow up with a perhaps overly confident, ‘No, yeah! Best hider ever! I’ve got you covered, little man.’
Billy thinks for a minute, then puffs out his chest, buoyed by my certainty. ‘I guess then we could look for stick? If you fink you know hiding places.’
‘Look for a stick? Is that part of it?’
‘Yup. Ebbergreen stick,’ he gives a firm nod as he tests the word in his mouth again.
I remember Fiona’s sketchy explanation from earlier. ‘Yes, the Evergreen? If we find that the game stops, right?’
‘Yeah, Ebber. You got to show the Krampus the Ebbergreen, then you win; he goes away.’
Right, so we need to find a hidden stick and not get caught while we do it. It sounds like the game ‘Capture the Flag’。 ‘We just show the stick to the monster – I mean the Krampus – and that’s the end?’
‘Yup. Das it,’ he stares up at me, wide eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope that I realize I am supposed to make good on.
I’d like to ask Billy: why a stick? Why an evergreen? Why a Krampus? Why any of this? But he’s three and it all seems a little above his pay grade.
Thankfully, Sam, Billy’s older brother, must have overheard our conversation, as he leans in to elaborate.
‘Basically, you need to find the Evergreen because Evergreen wood is the Krampus’s weakness, so the only way to kill him is to run Evergreen through his heart.’
I frown. ‘Oh, right. But we’re just showing the stick to the Krampus, right? We’re not running it through anything?’
Sam smirks as if I’m playing a trick on him. ‘No, of course not, that would be stupid. You just find the stick then you shout “Evergreen” as loud as you can and stay exactly where you are and the Krampus stops chasing everyone. Then he’ll come and find you and the stick.’ I feel myself frown and Sam continues, ‘He has to check you have it. If you do, you’ll be safe from him, don’t worry. As soon as he sees you have it, you win.’
I turn back to Billy with a big smile. ‘Well, that sounds great, right?’