The Secret Santa

Every December, the accounts department of a small insurance company in London does a Secret Santa. Everyone picks a name out of a hat and buys that person a present for under fifteen pounds. Nobody is supposed to know who their Secret Santa is. Usually, it is all very boring: socks, chocolates, a mug that says "World's Best Accountant".

This year was different. On the first Monday of December, a small box appeared on Beatriz's desk. Inside there was a potato with a face drawn on it and a note: "His name is Gerald. Please look after him." On Tuesday there was a tiny knitted hat for Gerald. On Wednesday, a pair of plastic sunglasses for Gerald, and a postcard of Brighton beach.

Beatriz had moved from Seville to London three years earlier, and she thought she understood British humor. She was wrong. She decided to investigate. Her manager, Philip, said the investigation could be done in the coffee breaks, "for team morale".

She started with Doreen, who had worked in the department for thirty years. Doreen asked her if she had checked the security cameras. Then she asked whether Gerald was eating properly. Beatriz couldn't tell if she was joking.

Next, she spoke to Tom from IT. Tom asked her why she wanted to know. He wanted to know if she was enjoying the gifts, and then he asked if he could meet Gerald. That was suspicious, Beatriz thought, but Tom always asked a lot of questions.

Finally, she asked Philip himself. Philip asked her what kind of person would give a potato as a present. Then he asked her whether she had considered that the Secret Santa might be a potato too. Beatriz wrote that down, although it made no sense.

On Friday, at the Christmas lunch, Beatriz stood up to report her findings. "Doreen asked me if I had checked the cameras," she said. "Tom asked me why I wanted to know. And Philip asked me whether the Secret Santa was a potato." Everyone laughed. "So," she went on, "I have no idea who it is."

Then the new intern, a quiet young man called Oliver who had started in November, went red. "It was me," he said. "I didn't know anyone, so I wanted to give you something to talk about." There was a short silence, and then the whole department applauded.

Gerald the potato now lives on Beatriz's desk, wearing his hat and his sunglasses. Every Monday, Oliver asks her how Gerald is. And next year, Beatriz has already decided, she is going to be the strangest Secret Santa the accounts department has ever had.