‘But I just did,’ Bobby said.

‘That’s it? Nothing else?’

‘That’s the thing that matters. And you said I could have it. You promised.’

‘Yes, I did. So you just go on home and see what happens.’

Bobby smiled, and for the first time it was the happy, natural smile of a child. It made Alex feel as though he had been punched in the stomach.

‘All right, you two?’ It was Corinne, appearing suddenly. ‘Move along. Father Christmas still has customers.’

Another three children had joined the little queue, and Bobby and Mitzi moved off to join their mother.

‘How’s Uncle Jimmy?’ Bobby asked. ‘Can he come home?’

‘We might get him home tomorrow. We’ll have to wait and see. Come on, let’s be off home. Goodbye, Santa.’

‘Goodbye, Santa,’ they chorused.

Alex raised a hand in a gesture of farewell and turned back to his next ‘customer’ with reluctance.

He wasn’t sure how he got through the next few minutes. His mind followed Corinne and the children out of the hospital and into her car, watching them talking, wondering what they were saying.

At last it was over and he was free to go. To his relief, Mrs Bradon joined him in the kitchen just as he finished changing. He would not have thought it possible that he could have been glad to see her.

‘What about the costume?’ he asked.

‘Just take it with you. Corinne will know what to do with it.’

He packed up the costume into its bag and tossed it into the back of his car. On the journey, he wondered how much Corinne would have told the children after they left.

When he reached the house he intended to go straight in. Instead, he found himself sitting in the silent car, trying to psyche himself into taking the next step.

It should be his great moment. He would burst through the front door, keeping Santa’s promise and enjoying the look on his children’s faces.

Without warning, his courage failed. He didn’t know why. His son had spoken like a child who loved his father and looked forward to seeing him. Yet he had said, ‘It isn’t for long, just Christmas Eve until Christmas Day. He could spare us that, couldn’t he?’