The Girl Who Saved Christmas. Matt Haig

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СКАЧАТЬ little elf, but Father Christmas liked him a lot. As the Assistant Deputy Chief Maker of Toys That Spin or Bounce, he was a very busy member of the workshop, and never complained about working overnight.

      ‘Everything all right at the workshop?’ asked Father Christmas.

      ‘Oh yes. All the toys that spin are spinning and all the toys that bounce are bouncing. There was a little bit of a problem with some of the tennis balls but we’ve fixed it now. They are bouncier than ever. The human children will love them.’

      ‘Jolly good. Well, you go home and get some sleep. And wish Noosh and Little Mim a “Merry Christmas” from me.’

      ‘I will, Father Christmas. They will be very pleased. Especially Mim. His favourite new thing is a jigsaw with your face on it. Jiggle the jigsaw-maker made it especially for him.’

      Father Christmas blushed. ‘Ho ho . . . Merry Christmas, Humdrum!’

      ‘Merry Christmas, Father Christmas!’

      And just as they said goodbye they both felt something. A faint wobbling in their legs, as if the earth was shaking a little bit. Humdrum thought it was just because he was so tired. Father Christmas thought it was because he was so excited about the big day and night he had ahead of him. Neither said anything.

The Toy Workshop

      he Toy Workshop was the largest building in Elfhelm, bigger even than the Village Hall and the Daily Snow offices. It had a vast tower and a main hall, all covered in snow.

      Father Christmas stepped inside and saw the preparations were in full swing.

      He saw happy, laughing, singing elves doing final toy tests: taking off dolls’ heads; testing spinning tops; rocking on rocking horses; speed-reading books; plucking satsumas from satsuma trees; cuddling cuddly toys; bouncing balls . . . Music was provided in the form of Elfhelm’s favourite band, the Sleigh Belles, who were singing one of their favourites, ‘It’s Very Nearly Christmas (I’m So Excited I Have Wet My Tunic)’.

      Father Christmas placed his sack down on the floor at the front of the room.

      ‘Good morning, Father Christmas,’ shouted one elf, called Dimple, with a cheery smile. Dimple’s name was easy to remember because she had dimples in her cheeks whenever she smiled, which was always. She was sitting next to Bella, the joke writer, who was working on her last joke of the year and chuckling to herself as she ate a mince pie.

      Dimple offered Father Christmas a peppermint and when he opened the lid of the peppermint jar a toy snake popped out. ‘Aaagh!’ said Father Christmas.

      Dimple was now on the floor in hysterics.

      ‘Ho ho ho,’ said Father Christmas, and tried to mean it. ‘How many of them do we have?’

      ‘Seventy-eight thousand six hundred and forty-seven.’

      ‘Very good.’

      And then the Sleigh Belles saw him across the room and instantly changed their song to ‘Hero In The Red Coat’ which was a tribute to Father Christmas. It wasn’t the Sleigh Belles’ best song, but all the elves started singing.

      ‘There’s a man who’s dressed in red,

      With gifts for those asleep in bed.

      A tall man with a snow-white beard,

      Whose ears are round and rather weird.

      He showed us elves that there’s a way,

      To make life as happy as Christmas Day.

      He and his reindeer travel the world,

      Giving presents to every boy and girl.

      As all their hopes and dreams take float,

      We all like to thank . . .

      (Is it a goat?)

      No!

      It’s THE HERO IN THE RED COAT!’

      As the elves cheered, Father Christmas was a bit embarrassed and didn’t know where to look, so he looked out of a window. He saw someone outside running across the snow towards the workhouse. No one else had noticed, as no one else was tall enough to see out of the window.

      It wasn’t an elf, Father Christmas knew that. It was even smaller. Too light. Too graceful. Too stylish. Too yellow. Too fast.

      And then, realising who exactly it was, he left the workshop.

      ‘Back in a moment, you wonderful folk,’ he told the elves, as the music lulled. ‘And the infinity sack is there so you can start dropping toys in it . . .’

      By the time Father Christmas opened the door, she was there, hands on her little hips, bent double, breathless.

      ‘Truth Pixie!’ he said, happy to see her. After all, it wasn’t often a pixie entered Elfhelm. ‘Happy Christmas!’

      The Truth Pixie’s eyes, which were always huge, were even wider than they were normally.

      ‘No,’ she said, staring up at Father Christmas, from the height of his knees.

      ‘What?’

      ‘No. It’s not a happy Christmas.’

      The Truth Pixie stared inside the Toy Workshop and saw all the elves and felt a bit itchy, because she didn’t like elves very much, and they gave her a bit of a rash.

      ‘I’ve got a new suit,’ said Father Christmas. ‘It’s even redder than it was before. And look at this fur trim. Do you like it?’

      The Truth Pixie shook her head. She didn’t mean to be rude, but she had to tell the truth. ‘No. I don’t like it at all. You look like a giant mouldy cloudberry. But that’s not the point.’

      ‘What is the point? You’re hardly ever in Elfhelm.’

      ‘That is because it is full of elves.’

      Some of the elves had seen the Truth Pixie.

      ‘Merry Christmas, Truth Pixie!’

      ‘Idiots,’ mumbled the Truth Pixie.

      Father Christmas sighed. He stepped outside onto the snow and closed the door behind him. ‘Listen, Truth Pixie, I would love to stay and chat, but it is Christmas Eve. I need to go and help get everything ready . . .’

      Father Christmas noticed she was looking quite СКАЧАТЬ