"I don't know about you," Robin said, "but I'm cold, I'm hungry, and I'm bursting for a pee."

If truth be told, so was I. We went back to the car and drove around until we found an Indian takeout restaurant called Curry In A Hurry. As we ate our way through an order of samosas, we considered our options.

"We can't lurk in the shrubbery forever," I pointed out, "Sooner or later, we are going to have to confront CH."

"Yes, but we should reconnoitre first." said Robin.

"You just want to play with your new toys."

"What's the point in buying surveillance equipment if we don't use it?"

True; so we decided to go back to the estate, after dark, and get close enough to the house to make use of our new parabolic microphone.

****

When we got into position, just outside the zone of light coming from the windows, CH was in the sitting room, reading poetry to a woman we recognized from our research as his wife, Rachel Cory Hutchins. Thanks to the parabolic mike (which looks rather like a small earth dish) we could hear everything that was said.

"That time of year thou mayst in me behold," he read,

When yellow leaves, or few, or none do hang,

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang."

"I think that's Shakespeare," said Robin, "One of the sonnets."

(It was: Sonnet LXXIII, or 73 to the numerically challenged.)

"SSHH!" I said, "I want to hear!"

CH read so beautifully that he really ought to have been on the BBC.

"In me thou seest the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth-"

Just then a girl a couple of years younger than us entered the room.

"Did the costumes come yet, Grandpa?" she demanded.

CH put down the book. "Indeed they did, Alley."

(Alley? What sort of name is that?)

"I'm glad you decided to be an elf again this year, Darling." said Rachel.

"I guess next year the grubs will be old enough, and you won't need me any more." said the girl.

(Grubs?)

"Rachel and I will always need you, My Heart." said CH.

"Remember the first time you dressed up as Santa Claus, Grandpa?"

"Indeed," said CH, "I did it to deliver Rachel's Christmas presents to the family."

"And I caught you in the act!"

"Alexandra - have you been naughty or nice?" he quoted.

(Alexandra! So that was it. If my name was Alexandra, I wouldn't want to be called 'Alley' - or did she spell it 'Ali'? Alex, maybe, or Sandra, but not 'Alley'.)

"Nobody believed me when I said I'd seen Santa." said Alexandra.

"Don't forget, Santa and his elves have to turn up at the Community Centre at 4:30 tomorrow." said Rachel.

"I'll be there." she said.

Robin and I decided that we would be there, as well.

****

As soon as we entered the front door of the Community Centre, we saw a sign posted: SANTA CLAUS IS COMING! 4:30 TODAY.

There were a large number of people with children milling around, and nobody paid any attention to us. When they started letting everyone into the room where the party was being held, we simply followed the crowd.

The room was decorated with a Christmas tree, red and green tinsel ropes, and banners saying MERRY CHRISTMAS and WELCOME SANTA CLAUS. There was a buffet table groaning with cakes and biscuits. After the children had stuffed themselves, they played party games ( such as Musical Chairs) and then sang along to Christmas songs pounded out on an old piano: Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and of course, Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.

To be honest, that song has always given me the creeps. Has anyone really listened to the lyrics?

"You'd better watch out/ You'd better not cry,

You'd better not pout/ I'm telling you why:

Santa Claus is coming to town."

(What is Santa going to do if you do cry, pout, etc? Something nasty, you can be sure!)

" He knows if you've been sleeping/ He knows if you're awake!

He knows if you've been bad or good/ So be good, for goodness sake!"

(Or else! 'Santa' is obviously some sort of proto-fascist child-hater, who probably has a microphone hidden in everyone's bedroom.)

"He's making a list/ He's checking it twice

He's gonna find out who's naughty or nice "

(Right; an enemies' list. The next step is to round up the 'naughty' ones and put them in 're-education' camps, no doubt.)

The lady in charge had slipped away quietly. Now she came back.

"He's here!" she announced, "Santa Claus is here!"

As the children cheered (and Robin and I slipped behind a handy potted ficus), CH entered.

"Merry Christmas!" he cried.

CH made an above-average Santa Claus. His own white hair, worn loose, blended into a beard that looked real (although we knew it wasn't.)

His wife, as Mrs Claus, wore a frilly apron over a long red dress, and an equally frilly mob cap on top of a curly white wig. She also had gold-rimmed granny glasses.

They were accompanied by 'Alley' and two little boys, all three dressed as elves, pointed ears and all.

CH looked at the assembled children.

"Have all of you been naughty - or nice?" he demanded.

"Nice! Nice!" (The only safe answer.)

"Then, all of you get presents." said CH, "But first, while my faithful elves, Winken, Blinken and Nod, hand out Mrs Claus' special Christmas cookies, who can tell me the names of my reindeer?"

Robin, the pig, snatched one of the 'special Christmas cookies' as the little boy elf passed by our ficus. It turned out to be a gingerbread man with a marzipan beard.

"Mmm." said Robin, biting its head off.

"You might have gotten one for me as well!" I hissed.

He grunted and broke off a leg for me.

By now, the children had agreed that Santa's reindeer were named Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen and Rudolph.

"There is one more." said CH, "Does anyone know her name? ... No one? ... It's Olive, the Other Reindeer."

Those of us old enough to understand the pun groaned in unison.

"I'm not surprised that you don't know Olive," said CH, "She's a sort of second-string, alternate reindeer: she takes the place of any of the others who becomes sick or is injured. Most years, she spends Christmas Eve tucked up in her nice warm stable, up at the North Pole."

He took a book out of his pocket. "How many of you know that there's a poem, all about me?"

He then proceeded to read "A Visit From St Nicholas" aloud. That's the one that begins: "Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house/ Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."

" He does read beautifully," Robin murmured.

"And I heard him declare, as he drove out of sight,

'Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!'."

CH Closed the book with a bang. "Now for the presents! Everyone get into line; no shoving; wait your turn; there's a present for every single one of you."

After the children had gotten their presents, ripped off the wrapping paper, and 'ooh'ed and 'ah'ed, they went home, sated.

"Thank you Carl, Rachel." said the lady in charge. "I'd don't know what we'd do without you!"

"Our pleasure, Judy." said CH.

"We will be seeing you at our Christmas party tomorrow night, won't we?" said Rachel.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Robin and I decided in that moment that neither would we; one way or another, we were going to attend that party.

To be continued.