Runaway Christmas

He'd had funny looks on the coach: not surprising really, he was only twelve and travelling alone. Jordan Smith had escaped. His mother thought more of her new boyfriend than Jordan. And then, when she didn't stop him hitting Jordan, the boy had had enough.

* * *

London was a special place. The Queen lived there: it must be a good address. Jordan didn't know what to expect. It was nearly Christmas and he only had five pounds in all the world. He stepped off the coach and headed for the underground. He wanted to be in Piccadilly; he'd heard other runaways always went there for some reason. It was a mecca. The Christmas lights were everywhere and the shop windows sparkled and twinkled with all the gifts and Christmas presents covered in tinsel and shiny baubles. All the paraphernalia of Santa Claus was here. But Jordan was forlorn; what was he going to do? None of this was for him; he was an outsider, just a runaway. As he gazed deep into the lighted windows people rushed past him. No one had time to stop. Just then a large silver automobile pulled up; it looked like a Rolls Royce. Jordan had seen them on telly but he'd never seen one in the street before. People didn't have them in Burnley. The door opened and an expensive pair of silk stockinged legs elegantly stepped onto the pavement. The woman was beautiful. Dressed in a white fur coat and matching hat, she noticed Jordan staring in disbelief. She was struggling with an armful of brightly coloured parcels. She then dropped one of them in front of Jordan. He moved over to her and picked it up for her.

* * *

It was getting dark now. It was four o' clock. By half past four Jordan was in an elves costume and handing out presents in Santa's grotto that was part of the big store on Bond Street. Mrs. Varlow would always help when she could. As owner of the store, she'd helped runaways before.

* * *

Opposite the grotto was a tableau of angels dressed in white and gold, playing on harps and singing like the choirs of heaven. They were only mannequins of course, but as Jordan played under the watchful eye of Mrs. Varlow he was convinced the most splendid and radiant of them all gave him a definite wink. It seemed Jordan's Christmas angel had not let him down after all !

* * *