 
Creepy Christmas

by

Jaimie Admans

Creepy Christmas © Jaimie Admans.

Smashwords Edition.

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents portrayed in it are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

First published in 2012 by Jaimie Admans.

Cover design by Jaimie Admans. Image © fotolia.com/lattesmile

Find out more about the author at **http://www.jaimieadmans.com**

Also by Jaimie Admans:

North Pole Reform School

Mistletoe Bell hates Christmas, until she is whisked away to a reform school at the North Pole, run by elves determined to make her love the festive season!

Not Pretty Enough

A young adult romantic comedy about making the boy you love realise you exist.

Kismetology

A feel-good romantic comedy about finding the perfect man... For your mother!

Afterlife Academy

Even being dead isn't enough to get you out of maths class.
CHAPTER 1

Friday nights are rubbish now.

They used to be my favourite nights of the week.

Every Friday when I got home from school, I would cook dinner for our family—that's me, Mum, Dad, my little sister Pippa, and even our dog Harry would get a small plateful, but his opinion of dinner doesn't count because he would eat the dust out of the vacuum cleaner if he could get the bag open. I love to cook. And on Fridays, because Mum finished work late, and my homework could be put off until the weekend, Mum and Dad would let me cook the whole dinner and dessert as long as I left the kitchen door open, Dad came in to supervise occasionally, and Pippa wasn't allowed near the oven or the kettle.

Mum said that nothing would change after the divorce, and that I could still cook for her, Pippa and Harry, and we could make up a plate for Dad and take it to him the next day. I argued that the food would be spoiled by the next day, but Mum insisted that it wouldn't. She even said that maybe Dad could come over on a Friday night to eat with us, but that hasn't happened. And my Friday nights of cookery... well, I cooked a few times at first, but one time I automatically set a plate for Dad, and Mum got upset about it. Since then, I've really given up on the Friday night dinners. What's the point in cooking for your family when you don't have a proper family to cook for? It's never been the same without Dad here. Sometimes I bake a batch of cookies at the weekends, and we put some in a bag and take them to Dad, but he never gets them hot and fresh out of the oven like he used to, and they just don't taste the same when they've gone a bit soggy in a bag overnight.

Hi, by the way. My name is Kaity. Yes, spelled like that. I like it. It gives my bog standard boring name something different from the millions of other 'Katies' out there. We live in a small village called Chelferry. I'm ten-years-old and I'm in J6 class at school with my best friend Tammy and our teacher Mrs Platkin.

I live in a small house with my mum, Pippa, and Harry. And since last week, Mum's new boyfriend seems to have taken up occupying our basement. But he has to go. As soon as humanly possible. Really, the less said about the new boyfriend, the better. Dad not living here anymore is a temporary situation and I intend to fix things before the year is out.

Dad moved out in the summer. He got an apartment in a huge block of flats across town. He lives so many storeys up that you get vertigo from looking out of his window. The elevator to his floor smells of pee and the stairs are smeared with an unknown and very unpleasant looking brown substance, so you have to walk up carefully while trying not to touch anything. It's very disturbing. The only night that Mum did let me stay over with Dad, something happened to his hot water heater and there was no hot water at all in his whole flat. And I had to sleep on his lumpy bumpy, uncomfortable pull out sofa bed.

I haven't stayed with Dad since then. Mum says there's no need to until he gets a better place. Then she mutters something about how unlikely that is on his salary. At least my dad has a job, unlike the stupid layabout that Mum says she's dating. She uses that word like she thinks I don't know what it means. Of course I know what it means, I just don't see how you can date someone you met on the internet a couple of months ago, and whom you only met for real last week, when he moved into our basement to carry on his laying about there.

There's no way Mum is really dating this guy. She and Dad love each other. They do. This divorce is just a temporary glitch. Just as soon as I can get rid of the internet boyfriend and get Mum and Dad back on speaking terms, they'll realise that as well. I know they will.

Right now they're just mad at each other. Once they've had a chance to cool off, they'll see how much they really love each other. Dad moved out in the summer, which was a whole six months ago now. You would have thought six months was more than enough time to cool off, but it turns out that my parents are really stubborn.

The day Dad left was right at the beginning of the summer holidays. I'd had an unexplainable sick feeling in my stomach all morning, and in the afternoon, Mum and Dad called me and Pippa into the living room and explained that they were separating.

Pippa was really too young to understand and all she wanted to know was where Harry was going to go, but Harry was to stay with us of course. Dad said his new place wasn't as big as he had hoped, and besides he wasn't allowed to have animals in his flat.

After Pippa had gone to bed that night, Mum asked if we could have a grown-up chat. She made us a cup of tea each and gave me a plate of toast because I hadn't eaten since lunchtime, and I took my tear-stained, puffy, red face down to the kitchen. Mum sat at the kitchen table, and didn't tell me off for sitting on the counter like she normally would, and I sipped my tea and nibbled my cold toast and tried to pretend I didn't feel like I was breaking apart inside. Mum said that she and Dad had been "having problems"—those were her exact words. Problems. Everyone has problems, even me. Even Pippa probably and she's only five. A few problems are no reason to break up a fifteen-year marriage. Parents are supposed to deal with their own problems, not give them to their kids. But, apparently, Mum isn't very mature on that front because she kept insisting that she and Dad had been trying to fix their problems but that it just wasn't working. I said "Couldn't he just have moved into the spare room or something," and she laughed and asked where we would pile all our junk and exercise equipment that we buy every New Year and never end up using. I didn't find that very funny, and when Mum got serious again, she said that it would never have worked. I wanted to cry again and ask how she would know if she never tried, but I controlled myself. I wanted Mum to think of me as a mature adult and crying and screaming doesn't seem very mature. I took some deep breaths and tried to concentrate on what Mum was saying, that it would be for the best, and that Pippa and I might even like having two homes to go to. In all fairness, Mum hadn't seen the rabbit hutch of a flat that Dad had moved into then.

Now it's nearly Christmas. Christmas is the best time of the whole year, and Dad still hasn't come home.

And I have to do something about that.
CHAPTER 2

Things are strange now that Seth has moved in. Seth is... Well, I wish I didn't have to talk about Seth, but he's a part of our lives for the time being so I have to. My mum met Seth on the internet earlier this year. A couple of weeks ago, completely unexpectedly, he told her he was going to be in town in December and he needed somewhere to stay. She said it would be lovely to spend time with him, oh and by the way, we can clear our basement out and would he like to stay there for a few weeks? Of course, he said yes. So for the past couple of weeks, Mum has been cleaning the basement out. I refused to help at first because I didn't think it was a good plan to invite a complete stranger into your home, but she bribed me with extra pocket money and chocolate. No one can resist money and chocolate.

Seth came on Friday night and Mum has spent the weekend with him, but I have tried to avoid him. I spent Saturday at Tammy's house and Pippa was sent to one of her friend's houses so Mum could have some time alone with Seth, and then Pippa and I spend Sundays with Dad anyway.

Seth arrived at our house on Friday night in a limousine. Yes, a limo. A sleek, black, shiny limo. At first I thought there was someone important coming, but it was only Seth and he was just the driver. Pippa wanted to have a look inside but he wouldn't let her in case she got it dirty when he'd just had it cleaned. Seth says he's a chauffeur for a very important man and that his boss is coming to town for the month of December. I asked him who his boss was but he wouldn't say. This morning when I was having my cornflakes for breakfast, Seth was standing in the kitchen dressed in a vest and jeans (A vest! In December!) And I asked him when he was going to work and he said his boss hadn't arrived yet so he didn't have to work today. It all sounds a bit fishy if you ask me. I tried to talk to Mum, but she has the googley eyes for Seth and won't hear a bad word about him.

Dad, however, flipped his lid. When Mum told him that her boyfriend was temporarily moving in, Dad went totally mental. He yelled and screamed at her about how could she trust someone she'd never even met, and that this man could be a serial killer or a rapist or worse. How dare she bring him into a house with two young children, and that he was going to call his solicitor and see what he could do about this. Mum insisted that he was a perfectly normal human being (I'm pretty sure that Seth has way more nose hair than a normal human being) and that she knew him and trusted him after months of online conversations. Besides, it was only temporary as Seth and his boss would be leaving after Christmas. Dad stormed out in a temper and slammed the front door so hard that all the windows rattled in their frames.

It isn't fair that Dad is living across town and working all hours of the day and night to pay for a flat which smells worse and is smaller than an actual rabbit hutch, while this stranger has been installed in our basement which is bigger and much cosier than Dad's flat. Dad was mad and I was mad, and Dad phoned Mum later with a few conditions—the main one being that Pippa and I are never allowed to be left alone in the house with Seth. Dad says that if Mum does that he's taking her to court and getting custody of us. Although I don't think that's very likely because when all three of us are in Dad's flat you have to breathe in to walk past each other.

Mum said that it could be difficult as Seth doesn't work any set hours and only goes to work when his boss wants him so she doesn't know if he'll be in the house or not when I come home from school. Dad said that he doesn't want us left with Seth for even a second, and Mum got really mad and started yelling into the phone that we're his kids too and if he cares so much he should take us. Which, apart from making me feel really wanted, made Pippa cry because she doesn't like it when our parents fight.

Pippa wasn't a problem as she stays after school until Mum comes home anyway. I, however, was a problem. So instead of my peaceful afternoons coming home from school and watching TV on my own, now I have to walk over to the mall where Dad works and spend a couple of hours with him instead of going home when Seth might be there. It's an okay solution as I'm not very comfortable with Seth around anyway even when I'm not on my own.

I like the shopping centre where Dad works. I like watching his CCTV cameras. I have to go straight to his office, which is an awesome office—floors above the main mall floor, so you can look down out of his darkened windows and watch all the people milling around below and it feels kind of powerful because they don't know they're being watched. Dad says I have to sit there quietly and do my homework because he's working and he's not supposed to be distracted. But as long as I'm mature enough to sit there calmly and not cause any disruptions, his boss won't mind him having his daughter in work with him. Pippa is too young to come, she'd just get bored and run around screaming or changing the channels on Dad's CCTV screen. She's tried before, Dad got really mad.

So now I get to go hang out with Dad for a couple of hours after school every day and he'll drop me off at home when he finishes his shift and make sure that someone besides Seth is in. It's not the worst solution they could've found, I suppose. When Dad first said that I couldn't go home on my own anymore while Seth was around, I half expected them to book a babysitter or something, which is downright embarrassing for someone my age. But I like being home alone and I don't like Seth and it's not fair that he has stolen my house, even if it is only temporary. And it is only temporary because I have a new mission in life. I'm going to get rid of Seth. I am. I mean, I'm not going to kill him or anything like that, but I figure it can't be that hard to drive him away. He's only staying for a bit. If I annoy him enough, he'll get fed up and go to stay in a hotel.

Besides, how am I ever going to get Mum and Dad back together if Seth is in the way? Mum can't have a boyfriend. She simply can't. Dad is totally refusing to come in the house right now because he says if he sees Seth, he'll deck him. And they'd been making so much progress recently. There was that one civilised conversation and they even smiled at each other while they were talking once. So I think there's hope. I think that they can go back to how they used to be. They just need a push in the right direction. And Seth is a push in the very, very wrong direction, so he needs to go. I know they still love each other. They were a happy couple. We were a happy family. Everything just bubbled along nicely until suddenly it didn't anymore. The rug has been pulled from under my feet. Everything is swirling around and suddenly Dad is gone and Seth is in his place, and I have to stop the swirling and get Seth out and Dad back where he belongs, and it's nearly Christmas. I can't have Christmas with my family torn apart like this. Christmas is a warm, fun, and happy time meant for families. Not Seth. It's my absolute favourite time of year, and I simply refuse to spend a Christmas with my life in pieces like this. I have to get my family back together again, and the magic in the air at Christmas time is going to help me.

I know it will.
CHAPTER 3

My weeks are pretty boring. There's school mostly. I quite enjoy school. The other kids, mainly the stupid boys who spend all day fooling around and sticking pencils up their noses instead of working, call me and my best friend Tammy teachers' pets and goody two shoeses, but we just ignore them. There are worse things to be than someone the teachers like and trust. Maybe if the boy with an eraser sticking out of his ear actually read the books put in front of him instead of sticking erasers into his ears, then he wouldn't constantly be sent to the headmaster for disrupting the class.

Things haven't been the same since the summer. Even though I still have Tammy, I feel like I don't fit in anymore, especially when I see the other kids' mums and dads waiting for them at the gate, happy and smiling. Not that I want anyone picking me up at school. I am more than old enough to walk to and from school by myself, thank you.

In the mornings, I take Pippa to her infant's class, which is just across the yard from my junior class. In the evenings, I leave Pippa with her after school childcare club. Mum pays them to look after Pippa until she gets home from work because I'm not old enough to be responsible for Pippa in the house by myself. The school is only a five-minute walk from our house, but I love walking it, especially in the winter when it's starting to get dark and it's a bit scary to be by yourself and sometimes you think you can hear footsteps behind you even though you probably can't.

Mum cooks dinner when she gets home, and then I do my homework while Mum washes the plates and gets Pippa bathed and dressed in her pyjamas. Then Pippa is allowed to come downstairs and watch TV for half an hour before bed. It's my responsibility to get Pippa into bed and read her a bedtime story. It used to be Dad's job, but since he's not here at bed times anymore (lets face it, he's not here at any times anymore) I've taken over the duty. _Where The Wild Things Are_ gets a bit boring, especially when Pippa wants it read to her four nights in a row, but I like doing it. I like having chores. It makes me feel like a responsible adult. In the evenings, I have to put Pippa to bed, and I have to dry the dinner plates after Mum has washed them. Then in the mornings before school I take Harry for his morning walk, take the dustbins and recycling bins out to the pavement every Wednesday morning for pick ups, and take Pippa to school.

I like the weekends best. Saturdays are my favourite days, as Tammy and I usually do something together. I get my pocket money every Saturday morning, and then either my mum or Tammy's mum will take us out to do something. Sometimes it's a walk around the shops to spend our pocket money or we'll go to the cinema. Saturdays are always a lot of fun. We used to go places with my mum and dad, but since the summer, Dad has started working on Saturdays so we don't see him unless we call in the shopping centre where he works.

Tammy is a really good best friend. She's taller than me with long blonde hair that gets tangled in everything, like her coats and her school bag and she always get it stuck in her armpits during PE lessons. My hair is brown and shorter than Tammy's but still long, but somehow I manage to not get it tangled up like Tammy does. We like doing the same things together, like singing, dancing, shopping, and watching movies. She doesn't laugh at me for my crush on Justin from _Wizards of Waverly Place_ because she likes him too, but not as much as she likes Tom from McFly and half of the contestants on _The X Factor_. Things are strange since the divorce though. It's hard to go to Tammy's house and see her parents as happy and together as they've always been, when mine are just the opposite. Tammy makes every effort to cheer me up. One time in the summer, just after Dad left, she came to my house for a sleepover, and she snuck in a whole bag full of Ben & Jerry's ice cream and boxes of Cadbury's Fingers. We had to eat the ice cream quickly before it melted as we couldn't let my mum see us putting it in the freezer. We felt totally sick afterwards but it was really fun and for that night, Tammy made me forget that my family was no longer like everyone else's family.

Sundays are Dad Days. They're the only day he has off work now, so every Sunday he picks me and Pippa up. He never comes in, just sits outside in his car and honks the horn until we come out, while Mum glares at him from the front window. He'll take us somewhere, usually somewhere quite boring like for a walk in the country or to a farmers market. It's never as much fun as walking around shops but I like to spend time with Dad. Pippa usually falls asleep in the backseat on the way home, so I get to sit in the front and Dad talks to me like an adult and tells me about his work and how many robberies he's stopped this week and the kind of tricks people try to get free stuff at the mall. Dad is a security guard for the shopping mall in Chelferry. It's actually a pretty big mall considering the size of the village it's in, but they built it for tourists mainly and people come from all over and love to shop there. I like it too. Dad's office is like the best way of people watching ever.
CHAPTER 4

The next morning we wake up to white. The world that is. Unexpected snowfall has hit Chelferry, and it's incredible. It's a Sunday so we don't get a day off school – we don't get snow very often around here, maybe once a year, and the whole town literally stops still until it melts. School closes, public transport stops, and shops close, either because the staff can't get in or because they realise that even if they did open they would have no customers. Pippa is bouncing on my bed at six o'clock in the morning, and for a minute I think I've lost the past four weeks and it's Christmas Day already. Then I realise that she's squealing about snow and it's so dark outside that I don't even know how she can see the snow, let alone get excited about it, but she does. I get out of bed and pad over to the window with her just to get her to be quiet so as not to wake Mum and Dad, and when I—

Wait... It's Mum and Seth now. Not Dad. How can I still forget even after all these months that Dad's not here anymore? How can I forget that on the real Christmas morning, when Pippa goes careening into Mum's room and bounces on their bed, that Dad isn't going to be there? I wonder about Dad. How does he feel knowing that his daughters are going to be waking someone else up on Christmas morning? Well, okay, probably relieved given our tendency to wake up in the early hours at Christmas, but still. The thoughts suddenly make the snow less appealing. "I'm going back to bed for a couple of hours, Pips," I say sadly. "You should too, it's early."

She shuffles out of my room like she can sense the change in my mood, and I can't help but wonder what she really feels about all of this. I'm finding it so hard to adjust and I'm five years older than Pippa. Either she's too little to really understand what's going on, or she's much more mature than we give her credit for and she's handling everything much better than I am.

I smile at the thought of her and snow. An overnight snowfall is almost as exciting as Christmas for Pips as she's only just old enough to understand that snow means school closure and playing outside for hours on end and losing feeling in your extremities.

I stay in bed but end up tossing and turning for a couple more hours. Just as it starts getting light, I decide to take Harry for his morning walk early, before every kid in the neighbourhood is outside having a snowball fight. Harry doesn't particularly like kids _or_ snow, so he can be a bit of a handful if the two are mixed. Mum and Seth aren't up yet, and I can't hear any signs of Pippa so I guess she went back to sleep too. Dad always used to be up early. It was a rare occasion to come downstairs to an empty house, even on a Sunday. Dad would always be here because he said his body clock was used to getting up early for work. I never realised how much I liked coming downstairs to see Dad sitting at the kitchen table reading his newspaper.

I sigh and try to shake myself out of these thoughts. I'm far too melancholy today. I grab my warmest coat, the one that makes me look like the Michelin man, attach Harry's lead and walk out into the snow.

I'm surprised to see the street totally deserted. I stand on our front step and look up and down the road, and there isn't a sign of anyone about. Okay, it is still early and it is a Sunday, but I'm surprised not to see any kids out here yet. Oh well, all the more space for me. I pull my wellies up and jump off our front step, landing knee-deep in a snowdrift.

The snow looks so beautiful as I shuffle down to the end of our driveway and let myself out the gate. Virgin snow with no sign of a footprint makes the picturesque street look like a Christmas card.

That's when I notice the snowmen.

How strange. I guess I'm not that early after all as evidently half the neighbourhood has been outside building snowmen already. Every house, in every garden, there's an almost identical looking snowman. Almost the same in size, with the same tree branch arms, coal buttons, coal eyes, and carrots for noses.

There is even one in our garden, which is a bit of a cheek if you ask me, as I'm sure Pippa would have loved to build one, but someone's already done it.

Odd though that there are no footprints. Anywhere. I mean, I'm the first person making footprints this morning, and yet there are snowmen in almost every garden, so obviously people have been out and playing in the snow and probably just popped back in for breakfast. So why no footprints? I try to puzzle it out as I drag Harry off down the street, just to nip around the block so he can do his business and then go back. I love the snow but it is cold this morning.

I try to glance into some of the houses, but they all look dark still, like the occupants are still sleeping with their curtains and blinds closed.

And then I want to physically smack myself in the head for being so stupid. Obviously the reason that there aren't any footprints is because we've had another snowfall since everybody came out. Fresh snow has obviously covered up all the previous tracks in the snow. Epic facepalm. Although I wasn't really sleeping since Pippa woke me up, I was just lying there thinking, so I'm quite surprised I didn't hear the kids yelling and shouting and playing in the snow. But that's beside the point. Every house has a snowman. I can't believe all these people were out here making snowmen and I didn't hear a thing.

I look at the snowmen as I pass and suddenly I get a chill up my spine. All of a sudden I feel very alone and small in the world, and I can't help but speed up a little in my walking. I'm not far from the house and getting back there suddenly feels like it would be a very good thing so I hurry Harry along.

I can feel their creepy coal eyes staring at me. I know it's my imagination but I feel like the eyes follow me as I pass them. They're all so eerily similar to look at. Almost military and uniform in their build, and I briefly wonder if maybe the families who built them all discussed how their snowmen would look and synchronized them. And how did they all manage to do that before eight in the morning and without me hearing?

I speed up so much that I am almost running, not wanting to be out here on my own anymore. I turn the corner into our street again, not surprised to find it still completely empty bar the snowmen. I don't want to look behind me, I'm too scared, and where did that fear come from? I feel that if I look back I will find twenty pairs of snowmen eyes staring at me, even though I know that's not possible. Maybe this divorce is affecting me more than I thought. I'm clearly losing my marbles if I think snowmen are watching me.

I'm bright red and panting as I race up to our house, dragging Harry behind me and still refusing to look back. I fall in the door and slam it hard behind me.

"What's up with you?" Mum is on her way down the stairs, yawning and rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Mum, there are snowmen everywhere. In every house."

"Well, the neighbours must've been busy."

"No, you don't get it. There's a snowman in every garden. Even ours. And we didn't build it."

"Well, isn't that nice, Kaity? Obviously one of the neighbours has been round and done it overnight."

"I don't know..."

"What a nice way to spread Christmas cheer. I wonder who it was?"

"I don't think—"

"Pips! Kaity says there's a snowman, do you want to come and see?"

"Yaaaaay," Pippa runs out of the kitchen shouting.

I ignore her and shuffle up to my bedroom. I sit on the windowseat and watch Pippa in the front garden talking to the snowman, and Mum yelling at her to come back and get her coat on.

I guess Mum is right. I don't know what's gotten into me. Obviously someone has come round and built a snowman in every garden during the night. It actually is quite a nice way to spread Christmas cheer. And I suppose that if the same person has built them it would explain why they all look the same.

I don't know why they creeped me out. I guess I'm just reading too much into what is quite clearly a simple explanation.

I glance out the window at them all again, lined up perfectly in each garden, and I can't help the eerie feeling that creeps down my spine.
CHAPTER 5

Walking Harry the next morning is when I notice the snowman in our garden has moved. Not much. Almost imperceptibly, in fact. There can only be a few inches in it, but he's definitely a bit further left than he was yesterday. A bit closer to the door.

I walk outside and stare at him. I don't know what I'm expecting. Maybe for him to jump up and down waving his stick arms about and shouting, "Hi! I'm alive! I moved in the night! Hah!"

Er. Yeah, maybe not.

A quick trip down the street makes me think that our snowman is not the only one to have moved in the night. It's very hard to judge, and I have to question my sanity in even thinking it, but I think the neighbours' snowmen have moved too. Not very far, just like ours hasn't. Enough that you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking for it.

But I swear they've moved.

They've all moved.

I'm still thinking about the snowmen as I head over to the mall as school finishes that night. It's cold and I pull my stripy scarf closer around my neck as I look up at the sky that is almost dark even though it's not even four pm yet.

The mall looks amazing at this time of year. The dusk makes the lights seem even brighter than normal, and although the Christmas decorations are up, the lights aren't switched on yet. That doesn't stop the tinsel glistening from every post I walk past. The switching on of the lights is kind of a big deal around here. The locals make such a thing of it you'd think it was Oxford Street in London. We don't get any celebrities coming to switch the lights on here, but there's usually a big gathering right here in the mall which everyone goes to, and the mayor wishes everyone a Happy Christmas and switches on all the lights, from the shopping centre to the street light posts to the huge Christmas Tree in the centre of town. The following day is always a Saturday, and everyone puts their house decorations up on that day. It's considered bad luck to put your Christmas decorations up before the mayor has switched on the Christmas lights. The Christmas Light Up is this coming Friday, and as much as I love Christmas, I don't really want to go. Every single year we go as a family, like all the other families in the village. This year, well, we're not a family anymore, are we? I can't see Mum and Dad wanting to go together so we can't even pretend to be a family, especially with Seth in the picture. I just know that it won't be the same as it usually is, and I don't want to remember Christmas like this. I want to remember Christmas the way it has always been. I don't want people looking at me the way some of the neighbours do now when I walk past their houses. This is a small village and everyone knows everyone else's business. I wouldn't mind betting that Mr and Mrs Gibson next door knew my mum and dad were separating before I did. So all the neighbours know that I'm a "child of divorce", and god, don't I hate that term. They all look at me with sympathy in their eyes when I walk Harry in the mornings. I don't need sympathy. I want them to understand that this is not forever. My mum and dad will get back together because I can make them. Just as soon as Seth is out of the picture, things will go back to normal, you'll see. They'll all see.

Urgh. Thinking that makes me think of Seth again. What if he wants to come to the Christmas Light Up with us? No, that's not allowed. Surely Mum wouldn't let him? He can't come and stand with us and pretend he's part of our family. Can't pretend that we even know him. The thought of the neighbours and all my friends from school seeing me with Mum and Seth makes me feel sick. He's not my dad, he never will be, and even though he says he's leaving after Christmas, I don't want him here at this time of year. This time of year is really important to me. Some of my favourite memories are of Christmas, and Seth doesn't belong in any memories, certainly not in the new ones that we will make this year. This is going to be the year that I put my family back together again.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't realise I've reached the mall until I almost walk head first into the door.

"Woah, careful there, Kaity," Don says as he pulls the door open and holds it for me.

"Oops."

"Watch out for the icicles," he says. "They look dangerous to me."

I take a step back and look up. Sure enough, there is a strip of icicles hanging right across the big double doors of the mall. They're glistening in the late afternoon sun, and very sharp looking. They look like a perfectly placed Christmas decoration.

"They could really hurt someone if they fall off. I don't even know how they got there," Don is saying. "It didn't even rain yesterday. I don't understand how that much water could've been running down the building last night. But they were there when we got to work this morning."

"I'm sure they'll melt soon," I say.

"I'm surprised they haven't even started to melt yet," Don says. "It's been quite sunny today."

Don is one of the security guards here who works with my dad. One of the benefits of being the boss's daughter is that everybody knows you. My dad is the head of security at the mall. He's not just a security guard, he's also directly responsible for managing security. Dad picks which equipment to use, where to put security cameras and signs, where to position the other security guards, and what weapons they can carry. Anything like that is my dad's decision. It's actually a pretty important job when you think about it. The man who owns the mall, and everyone in town I suppose, would totally blame Dad if anything goes wrong. I know I said we don't get a lot of crime around here, and we don't by comparison, but still enough to warrant so many security measures. Don is the door attendant, he's part security guard and part hospitality man—he holds the doors open for women carrying too many shopping bags, tells people where the nearest loo is, and at the same time he's trying to stop trouble before it starts. He breaks up fights, watches for anyone suspicious who comes in and out and has the power to search people if he thinks they've stolen something. Being the boss's daughter you get to hear all the stories of what people try to get away with. Someone tried to smuggle a microwave out once, by stuffing it up his jumper of all places. Don spotted him and nicked him straightaway, but seriously, who thinks they will get away with putting a microwave up their jumper and no one will notice? And the funniest part was that if the man had just been carrying the microwave and not tried to hide it, Don would have thought he'd just bought it and not suspected a thing. The security guards are all in contact with each other and the shopkeepers via radio too, so if one of the shopkeepers has had something stolen, he can get on the walkie-talkie and tell Don what and who to look out for and Don can attempt to stop them leaving.

I like Don. He always smiles and keeps a supply of Glacier mints in his pocket and he always gives one to me when I see him.
CHAPTER 6

I'm still sucking my mint when I reach Dad's office. He's sitting in his comfy squishy chair monitoring the camera feeds like he usually is. How he doesn't just fall asleep in that thing, I'll never know. It's so comfy, that's what I'd do. There are eight different screens in front of him, and he has to watch each one carefully to check for suspicious behaviour.

"Hi Kaity Kait," Dad spins around in his chair when he sees me. "You look cold."

I shrug. "Well, it is December."

The truth is I've never really minded the cold. The cold means it's winter and winter is my favourite time of year so the cold means good things really even though you have to wrap up warm.

There's a little sofa and table in the corner of Dad's office and I throw my bag down there and dump my coat and scarf on top of it as they always keep the heating on a toasty setting in here. It's not really Dad's office; it's like the hub for all the security guards, like a staff room where they all gather to have lunch and cups of tea on their breaks. Dad is the one who spends most of his time in here, overseeing everything behind the scenes. He does prowl the floors of the mall itself sometimes too. He used to do it all the time, but he got promoted so now he can boss the other guards around and delegate all the jobs he doesn't want to do to them. Dad is funny when he's in security guard mode, when he's actually walking around on the mall floor trying to simultaneously look threatening to potential baddies and helpful to little old ladies who want to find out where to get their grandson the hot new toy for his birthday. He literally stalks around the halls, torch out, growling occasionally, it's quite funny really although I can see how he could be scary to people who aren't his daughter.

"So, how was school?" He asks. "No trouble on the way here?"

"It was fine," I reply. "And when do I ever find trouble anywhere?"

Dad grins at that but his attention is focused on the screens in front of him, as always. Dad's boss is pretty easygoing about me and Pippa coming to visit him in working hours, as long as we don't cause any trouble and Dad isn't distracted from his job. Pippa loves coming here but she gets bored easily and you have to take her away pretty soon before she starts causing havoc. She still thinks that Dad works in a magical kingdom where all the Christmas presents come from and she always wants to look into every shop, even the adult ones, which can be embarrassing.

"You know the deal, right Kait?" Dad pipes up from his chair. "Get your homework done and then you can be my right-hand man until it's home time, okay?"

That's my favourite thing about coming here. Dad lets me put on one of his security hats and walk around the mall by myself to help him keep an eye on things. I mean, I know it's just joking really. He doesn't really need me to keep an eye on anything, but he thinks it makes me feel important and it gets me out of his hair for a while. And okay, it's not the same as going home from school by myself and watching TV for a while, but it's okay for now.

I sit down on the sofa in the corner and get my school books out. The homework is not too hard. It's never really too hard if you pay attention in class instead of sticking pencil sharpeners in your orifices. Sometimes I have to get Mum's help, especially with the maths stuff because I'm utterly useless at maths in any way, shape or form. I don't always mind the homework itself, but I wish we didn't have any. Pippa is really lucky that she can come home from school and do whatever she wants, whereas we get homework practically every night that always has to be turned in by the next day. Mrs Platkin says she's trying to prepare us all for comprehensive school where we'll be going next September. People keep talking on and on about how different things are at comprehensive, but it's not worrying me too much yet. I guess I've had a lot of other stuff on my mind this year. Maybe by next summer I'll be freaking out as much as everyone seems to think I should be freaking out now.

I'm trying to focus on the books in front of me but I can't get my mind off Seth, and how wrong everything is. How wrong it is that my mother has let a stranger move into our house, just months after throwing out the man she's been married to for fifteen years. Why couldn't Dad have moved into our basement? Okay, she doesn't want to share a room with him anymore, fine. She doesn't mind Seth staying in the basement, why should Dad have to live in an awful little flat that probably still doesn't have working hot water. How wrong it was to eat breakfast this morning with Seth standing in the kitchen like he belongs there, and the horrible thought that this is only the beginning and every morning is going to be like this one. I just wish things were different.

I don't want him here at any time of the year, but I especially don't want him here at Christmas. I don't want him around our decorations because they're _ours_ , as in _our family_ and Seth doesn't belong. Yesterday when Dad dropped me and Pippa off at home, Mum was in the kitchen cooking macaroni cheese for dinner and Seth was sprawled on the couch with his feet on the coffee table—Mum always yelled at Dad if he put his feet on the coffee table—and watching a stupid football game. It looked like he'd settled in quite comfortably when he has no business even being there. I have to get some plans into action to get rid of him. Usually I pretty much believe that all people should be treated nicely, even if they're not very nice to you—that's why I don't let the kids who call both me and Tammy goodie two shoes bother me because I think they'll get what they deserve eventually. And okay so Seth hasn't done anything technically wrong himself yet, apart from wanting to stay with us in the first place and taking advantage of an innocent woman, he hasn't personally done anything to upset me. In fact he's been completely civilised each time I've spoken to him since he arrived on Friday. It's just the fact that his mere presence is upsetting everyone and Mum doesn't care as she thinks Seth is the best thing since sliced bread.

Mum is blinded by the googley eyes and Pippa is too young to be of any use except maybe as ammunition, so I'm on my own in this. Maybe I can enlist Tammy's help in a prank or two, just to get Seth annoyed. The sooner he goes, the better. And as the basement is suitable for habitation now, as soon as Seth's gone, maybe Dad can come back to live with us, even if he has to stay in the basement while Mum gets over her lobotomy, which I think is the only possible explanation for her recent behaviour.

I look down at my schoolwork and realise I've done nothing but draw squiggles on the paper. Dad is still watching his security feeds, but he must sense me watching him because he spins on his chair and gives me a wink. I guess you have to be pretty good at sensing when people are watching you to be a security guard because the people who want to watch security guards are most likely the people with something to hide. I wink back at Dad and try to focus on what's in front of me but it's difficult as my mind is elsewhere, especially when one of the other security guards bustles in for his afternoon cup of tea and chocolate biscuit. Of course I steal a chocolate biscuit too and the guy, John I think his name is, starts telling me about a boy stealing Pick 'n' Mix in one of the shops this morning, and that distracts me for a while. When I do get focused on the basic algebra in front of me, I'm absolutely convinced that every answer I put down is wrong, but I'll just have to hope Dad doesn't want to check it. Eventually I think I've done all that I can do and give up. I get up for a stretch and go to stand beside Dad, glancing at his monitors. Dad slips an arm around my waist and gives me a quick squeeze.

"It's good to have you here, Kait," he says. "I don't see enough of you or your sister these days and you're both growing up so fast, pretty soon you'll have better things to do than hang out with your old fogey of a Dad at the mall."

"Nope," I tell him. "Not gonna happen. I love it here."

Almost from nowhere, Dad produces a carton of chocolate milk and hands it to me. "Don't tell your mum," he says and I laugh. I love that we can still spend time together like this and for some reason, I love that we have secrets from Mum, no matter how small they are.
CHAPTER 7

As I'm finishing my chocolate milk and watching the CCTV screen of a woman who's dropped a coin and is running to catch up with it as it rolls away, one of Dad's co-workers comes in.

"Santa's arriving at the north east door," he says to Dad. "Neil's gone to make sure he gets the keys."

They have a Santa every year at the mall. He sets up his grotto underneath the Christmas tree in the centre of the mall. It's a big open space, in the summer it's filled with tables for people to sit and eat from the café nearby or the ice cream vendor who has a stand there all summer. In autumn the ice cream stall turns into a little fairground stall, selling hot nuts and candyfloss and toffee apples, and in the winter it's replaced by a huge Christmas tree and Santa's grotto. Santa always arrives on the first of December and leaves by the twenty-fifth. The Christmas tree has been there for a couple of weeks already. It's decorated but not lit yet. It won't be lit until the Light Up on Friday night, but it's real and the smell of pine needles fills the air when you walk past it, and every time I see it, I get more excited for Christmas and for getting my family back together. If anything can help me, it's the magic of Christmas.

Yes, I do know that the man in the Santa suit isn't really Santa. And yes, I do know that Santa is nothing more than a fairytale. But A) Pippa still believes in Santa, so I'm not allowed to let her know that he isn't real or that I don't believe in him, and B) it's all a bit of fun, isn't it? Santa is all about the magic of Christmas, and I do believe that Christmas is a truly magical time, and just because you know something isn't real doesn't mean you can't enjoy it and appreciate it for the Christmas cheer it spreads, does it?

Our mall Santa is a grandpa dressed in a red suit who sits in a mobile shed decorated with tinsel and asks children what they want for Christmas and takes a picture with a smile and a 'Ho Ho Ho', and both the children and the parents go away smiling. There's no harm in it. Pippa loves coming to visit him. Because Dad works here, Pippa always gets her pictures with Santa for free. We must have a hundred pictures of her sitting on a Santa's lap over the years. The Santa isn't always the same person every year. They used to have a man who worked here every year without fail. Dad says he was a real part of the mall family, but he retired when I was four-years-old, and since then they've struggled to replace him. It's a different Santa every year now. I don't know why it's so hard to find a Santa. Dad says they have to fit in, and if they don't then it just doesn't work. Personally there's never been a Santa I haven't liked. They're always jolly old men, and obviously they have to be friendly and good with kids so they're all okay in my book. It's pretty much in the job description that they have to be round and jolly. No point in having a standoffish Santa.

When I was little and still believed in Santa, I always asked Dad if the guy in the mall was really him because there was a Santa in every mall around the country and how were we to know which was the real one. Dad used to tell me that it wasn't really Santa Claus, but it was one of his elves come to spread Christmas cheer on his behalf. Even though I'm old enough to know better now, I still find it nice to believe that anyone who helps to spread joy and cheer at Christmas time is one of Santa's elves.

Dad spins in his chair and leans up to plop his hat onto my head. "Go and have a wander around," he says. "Tell me if you spot anything untoward."

I wander out casually, secretly glad to be out of the confined space for a minute to breathe. The onslaught of happy memories is too much for a moment, and I can't believe that the little girl asking her dad about Santa Claus and laughing with Mum as we watched the Christmas lights twinkle has become me. Spending time with my dad while he's trying to work because I don't see enough of him anymore and I'm not allowed home because Mum's new boyfriend might be there. How did things ever get this bad?

All the more reason for me to find a way to fix it, and fast.

There's still half an hour before Dad's shift ends, so I don't walk too fast. I don't really have anything to do, so I just walk past all the shops and admire their Christmas display windows full of toys and gifts. I realise that I haven't even considered what I want for Christmas this year. I want my family back together. Toys and presents don't seem important if Dad isn't there on Christmas morning to watch us open them. Oh god, and what if Seth is? What if Seth is there on Christmas morning, watching Pippa and I tear our gifts open like Dad always does? Again I'm struck by how much Seth doesn't belong with us and I don't want him in our house at Christmas. Not that I want him in our house at all, but absolutely not at Christmas.

I wander down towards the north east entrance, only remembering that Santa is coming in this way when I almost walk into two men carrying a shed covered in glitter. I step back out of the way and watch for a moment as the men struggle past me with their shed, obviously heading towards the main part of the mall. They're followed by another man who is carrying a giant candy cane. Wow, this year's Santa is really going all out. Usually it's a few planks of wood nailed together with tinsel wrapped around it, nothing so fancy as this. Another man passes me carrying a plastic reindeer and I step back into the shadow of a doorway to watch for a moment. The sight and smell of Christmas things always cheers me up. The smell is something else I notice straight away. This year's Santa's equipment actually smells like Christmas. The pepperminty smell of candy canes wafts past me, and I realise the giant fake candy cane one of the men was carrying actually smells like the real thing. It's kind of cool. I can't wait for Pippa to see all this. She's going to love it.

I catch a glimpse of Santa himself through the doors, he looks very typical—an overweight old man in a red suit. I think it's funny that he's wearing the red suit even though he's not working today, he's just here to set up before he officially starts work tomorrow. Even then he probably won't get many visitors until the weekend as kids are in school all day and not many parents bring their children to the mall on a weeknight. I guess he's dedicated to the job though because even in the middle of a cold December that suit looks like it would be hot to wear.

The man who was carrying the candy cane comes back out, but he doesn't seem to notice me watching.

Santa himself bustles in just then. He's carrying a sack full of presents. Of course he is. I can't help but smile at the sight. Not that I've watched a Santa set up his grotto before, but this one seems pretty into the role. I wonder if he's a method actor just doing the Santa gig for extra holiday pay.

The funny thing is that when Santa gets to the doorway where I'm standing, even though none of the other men unloading his gear have noticed me, he does. Santa stops and turns my way. He smiles and lifts his hand in greeting.

"Hi there."

"Hello," I say, stepping forward. I don't want him to think I was spying on him.

"Don't tell me you're my new bodyguard," he says with a wink, nodding to the hat on my head. "You look a little young to be working for security."

I can't help but smile. Something about him puts me at ease instantly. "It's my dad's," I say. "He's the head of security here. You'll meet him soon."

"Oh yes, it's Andrew isn't it? I know all about him."

I nod. I have no idea how he knew that but, well, I guess he's been in for a job interview and probably met my dad then. Although why he would've met Dad for an interview is beyond me, that's not Dad's job at all.

"And you are?"

"Kaity," I say.

"Ah, yes. And would that be spelt K-A-I-T-Y?"

"Wow," I say, taken aback. "I have no idea how you knew that."

"Your dad must have told me." Santa winks at me again. "I'm Santa," he takes a step forward and holds his hand out. I shake it.

"You're really committed to the role," I say. "Seriously, don't you have a real name? It seems weird to call you Santa all the time."

Santa smiles like he knows something that I don't. "I prefer Santa," he says. "It won't do for any child to accidentally overhear me being called something other than Santa. Children will never believe in me if the adults go around calling me something different. Kids are smarter than you think, you know."

"Oh, tell me about it," I say. "I have a five-year-old sister who loves all things Christmas and Santa. No doubt you'll meet her soon enough. She'll be posing for a million pictures with you. It's what she does... And I have no idea why I thought you'd want to know that. Sorry."

"Kaity, don't ever apologise for being who you are, you're a very special girl and—"

There's a crash and the sound of Christmas ornaments smashing from up ahead, followed by a cry of "Oh jingle balls!" from an exasperated-sounding man.

"Oh dear, that sounds like one of my elves. Please do excuse me, Kaity, I had better go and help. I'll see you around though, won't I?"

"Yep, I'm here after school every day for a while," I say. "See you soon. And good luck with that... whatever it was that broke."

Santa waves as he walks away laughing, a jolly 'ho ho ho' laugh that he must've spent months perfecting. I can't help giggling at the idea that one of those huge, muscled men who were carrying things could ever be an elf.

Somehow a feeling of calm has come over me and I don't feel as bad as I did earlier. I guess even at the worst of times, Christmas still makes me feel better.

I glance through the doors as I walk away and see all Santa's gear in a heap in the staff car park outside. How strange that he's not unloading from a vehicle. It would have made much more sense to drive up to the door and unload from a van or something. That stuff doesn't exactly look light or easy to carry. I shrug as I walk past. It's not important, just an observation.
CHAPTER 8

It's still only four-thirty pm so I still have time to kill. I wander past some more shops and all I keep thinking of is that Santa. Something about him sparkled and not in the sparkly vampire sort of way but in the "I'm spreading joy and happiness" kind of way. Oh god, that doesn't make sense. All I know is that I look forward to coming back here tomorrow and seeing him properly set up. He brought so much stuff with him that it will be kind of cool to see what he's going to do with the place. And I look forward to Pippa seeing it all at the weekend. Or on Friday night when we come for the big Light Up.

I can hear an engine running outside, almost like a motorbike is zooming around the car park, which is very much not allowed, and if I can find out where it's coming from then I can go and tell Dad.

I'm on my way to the south entrance. It's the one that all the delivery drivers use so they're not getting in the way of the customers, and the car park is very off limits to anyone other than staff. I'm sure that's where the revving noise is coming from. I haven't even got there when I see something very strange. It's a few planks of wood, nailed together like a shelter and decorated with tinsel. It almost looks like the Santa's grottos we usually have from the Santas that don't put any effort into the role. But it must be for some other purpose, because it's tucked away in a back hall that only people using the back entrance would ever see, and Santa is always in the middle of the mall where everyone will see him. And this looks nothing like the grotto I've just seen Santa carrying in.

I get the feeling that I shouldn't be caught spying around here, so I take my security hat off and keep to the shadows. There's no one around, but I can still hear the revving noise coming from the parking lot, so I sneak towards the door and take a peek out. To my surprise, outside there is another man dressed as Santa, this one standing on the pavement in the parking lot, waiting for someone who is driving a motorbike towards him with a big sack on the back. It doesn't look like safe driving practices.

I watch as the man on the bike pulls up and hands Santa his sack, and hear Santa growl something at him—I can't make out the words but I can definitely pick up the growling—and the man on the motorbike speeds off again. Then Santa starts stomping towards me, well, towards the door but I happen to be in the doorway, and I take that as my cue to move. I slink back into the shadows but I can still hear Santa growling into his mobile phone at a volume barely below yelling. Whether he is outside or inside the mall, that's no way for a Father Christmas to act. I can just about make out what he's saying as he comes closer to the entrance. He's having a moan about someone who was supposed to pick him up and how he had to get a lift with Henry on the back of a bloody motorbike because someone (I assume the person on the other end of the line) was too busy spending time with their bloody girlfriend to do their job. This Santa is, well, horrible. I wonder if he's going to be working here too, but surely he can't be. There can't be two Santas in one mall. It simply wouldn't work. Maybe he's working somewhere else and they're just letting him use this corridor in the mall for, I don't know, storing his things? Yeah, that could be it. Maybe they're letting him store his things here overnight. Or maybe he's come to the wrong place.

Santa bangs his way through the door, slamming it behind him like it says not to do on all the signs as it's a fire exit and the handle rattles too much and causes a disturbance. He's just slipping his phone back into his pocket and walking up the corridor when he stops and looks around. I press myself as far back into the wall as I can get. I don't want him to see me. Somehow I don't think he's in a very good mood. He's standing still now and looking around. It's like he knows I'm here. I can see his nose moving. He's standing still and sniffing. It's like he can smell me. Sure enough, when he starts walking again, it's pointed and with purpose until he slows down and stops directly opposite me. He turns slowly with a sneer on his face.

"Little girls who eavesdrop get coal for Christmas," he growls.

"I'm not eavesdropping," I say, stepping out of the shadow. "Actually I work here. I was just, er, cleaning up."

"I'm sure you were," he says. But it's obvious that he thinks otherwise. "Little liars get coal in their stocking too. You think I don't know that shopping centres don't hire little girls?"

"I'm not a little girl," I say. "My dad works here and I help him out."

Santa snorts.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Seriously, kid, what do you think it is?"

I roll my eyes. "Not that it's important or anything. Besides, I think you might've got the wrong place, we already have a Santa working here. We don't need another one."

He laughs at that, but it's not a jolly 'ho ho ho' like it should be. It's a highly practised evil 'mwha ha ha ha'. I don't like it.

"Well, this year you have two. If children don't like the other Santa, they can come to see me instead. I'm far more interesting than the old fellow with the beard, as you'll find out."

Isn't it funny how you can take an instant dislike to someone? This Santa, for example, I already know that I don't like him. I've said three sentences to him, and I already know that I don't like standing here alone with him, that I don't want to bring Pippa to see him, and especially that I don't want him working in this mall.

"Well, you can't set up here," I say. "It'll confuse the children."

"Oh, boo hoo, the poor little children won't believe in Santa anymore. Listen, kid, the children will come to me, you'll see. Your old, fat, bearded man will be a thing of the past."

"That's not true," I tell him. "Christmas is about tradition."

"Christmas is about getting presents and drinking too much. The sooner you learn that, the happier you'll be. Then maybe you can stop moping around darkened hallways hoping for something better."

"What?" I ask, but secretly I'm thinking _how did he know that_? How did he know that I was moping? It's not that obvious. I was careful to school my face in public.

"You're moping. What ten-year-old hangs around dark hallways in shopping malls? If you were normal, you'd be out there dragging Daddy into toy shops to look at Barbie dolls. Instead, you're lurking and trying to make yourself feel important by helping Daddy out. Trying to make yourself worth something in case Mummy thinks you're expendable like she did with Daddy."

I stare at him. I open my mouth to say something, but I have no words. How dare he speak to me like this?

"Don't worry, Kaity, Mummy still loves you. She won't suddenly stop and make you leave like she did with Daddy."

"I... You... You have no idea what you're talking about. How do you even know my name? I didn't tell you."

"I'm Santa, Kaity. I see you when you're sleeping. I know when you're awake. I know when Mummy divorces Daddy and Kaity cries herself to sleep every night."

"That's not true," I lie.

He smiles, but it's more like a smirk than a smile. "I'm sure it's not. Maybe I've got you mixed up with some other K-A-I-T-Y. Yeah, that must be it."

I simply stare at him. I have absolutely no words to respond.

"Maybe you should run along and tell Daddy, Kaity Kait. You—"

" _Don't_ call me that," I snap.

This is freaking me out. This whole encounter is freaking me out. Who the hell is this guy and how does he know all this stuff?

"Look, Kaity, it's been lovely to meet you," he says in a sickeningly fake sweet voice. "But as you can see I'm very busy and I have lots of work to do to set up for business, so please, give my regards to your father who, by the way, is on the naughty list this year, and come back to see me when I'm all set up and handing out presents and toys to everyone who passes, 'kay?" He gives me the fakest grin in the history of the world and walks away.
CHAPTER 9

As he leaves, I realise I'm shaking. My knees are knocking together and trembling. God, who was that guy and how on earth did he know all that stuff? How did he know my name? How did he know that Mum and Dad got divorced? And did he... _smell_ me standing there? I give my armpits a quick sneaky sniff, and nope, they're fine. I don't smell at all. He's really creeped me out. He's going to be working here? No way. I have to do something about that, and fast. I spin around and stride back into the mall itself, careful to avoid the corridor where he is setting up. I pass the nice Santa's grotto on my way back to Dad's office. His men are still setting things up there but it already looks awesome. I don't see any sign of Santa himself though, so I keep walking. I wonder if he knows that there are two Santas this year. I can't believe the mall would do this. I can't believe that Dad would let them, let alone ignore the fact that Santa2 is a complete jerk.

"Dad," I burst into the office. "Did you know there are two Santas this year?"

"Oh yeah, Kaity Kait," Dad says dismissively. "They hired the main one first, then this other one came along, offered to pay good money for a spot so they hired him too."

"But... but..." I try to protest. "Don't they care that the children will be confused?"

"Kaity, no one really believes in Santa anymore," he says. "Even from a really young age, kids are aware that the parents are buying the presents and that Santa, although a cool concept to believe in, is nothing more than a bit of fun."

"Pippa still believes in him," I say.

"Well, even Pippa is nearly old enough to know better. It won't be long before she knows what we all know, but I agree that it's nice while it lasts." Dad looks straight at me and he must notice the look on my face because he says, "Don't worry so much, Kaity. The Santas aren't even that close together so the children probably won't even notice. And the second Santa is tucked away in the back hall. Why he wanted that spot I don't know. He probably won't get many customers, but from what I hear, he was quite keen to spend the season here, and he actually paid good money to buy a spot to put his grotto. Usually we pay Santa to come here. Except this year. Funnily enough, this year's Santa is voluntary. It's quite strange really. One pays us, and the other one doesn't want any money. Must be the Christmas spirit going to their heads."

I sigh.

"You met Santa though, I see? I saw you talking to him on the CCTV. Nice fellow this year, eh?"

"Yeah," I say distractedly. "I met the other one too, did you see that?"

"Hmm, no," he says. "Must be out of camera range. Oh well."

"Can't you do something?" I say.

"Well I could adjust I suppose, but—"

"Not about the camera range, Dad. About the second Santa."

"Well, what do you want me to do about him, Kaity? It's nothing to do with me. The mall hired him, end of story. I doubt he'll get a very good trade and I have no idea why he wants to spend Christmas playing Santa in a back hall but apparently he does and he was willing to pay for it, so there you go."

"But he's not very nice," I say.

Dad spins in his chair. "Why not, honey? Did he say something to you?"

"Well, I..." I have no idea how to voice all the things he did say, and I really don't want Dad to know that I still cry myself to sleep at night.

"He just wasn't very nice," I say eventually. "He was revving his motorbike in the car park—"

"Oh yeah, I saw that. Well, that wasn't really him. It was someone delivering something to him. I mean, I'll have a word, make sure he tells them not to do it again if they're going to come back, but chances are it was just a one-off courier delivery and it really had nothing to do with him. Is that all it takes for you to dislike him? A bad delivery driver?"

"No," I say. "He just wasn't very nice. He was acting weird. He said some really weird things and he knew my name."

Dad laughs as if it's a joke.

"Dad, this is serious."

"Well, he's probably been talking to some of the guys, they probably told him to look out for the curious little girl in her dad's security hat."

"Would everyone stop calling me a little girl," I almost scream. "I'm not little anymore."

"Okay, okay," Dad holds his hands up mockingly. "Okay, Kait, what other 'weird' things did he say?"

I shrug and bump one toe against the other.

"Well, he said he sees me when I'm sleeping and he knows when I'm awake. Quite frankly, he struck me as a bit stalkerish."

Dad stares at me in horror, and I think that finally we're getting somewhere. Finally Dad will realise what I'm trying to tell him and sack this Santa2 bloke sharpish.

Then Dad bursts out laughing so hard that he doubles over in his chair. "Oh Kaity, you crack me up so much," he giggles. Yes, that's right. My dad is actually giggling. At me.

"Honey, I know we haven't sung it since last year, but don't tell me you've forgotten the _Santa Claus Is Coming To Town_ lyrics already? He's just quoting a song, Kaity. He was probably trying to be nice. Don't worry about it so much, you're overreacting."

Arrrgh. Don't you just hate that when an adult tells you what you're doing even though you're not? And they always make it something to make you feel immature and like they know better, like saying you're overreacting, even though you're clearly not.

"Dad, please will you go and talk to him? See if you can persuade him to leave?"

"Kaity, what has gotten into you today? It's not up to me to keep or fire the man. I had nothing to do with hiring him, and as far as I can tell, all he's done to upset you is sing a Christmas song."

"He didn't sing it, he said it," I protest.

Dad sighs. "Look, Kaity, like it or not, kids are growing up faster these days and they're old enough to know that the Santa they visit in the mall is a man in a dressing up costume. We could have six Santas and it doesn't change anything. Santa is just an idea these days, not a belief. Kids want these fandangled new things like iPhones and MP3 players, and they know very well that it's not a bunch of elves in the North Pole making them."

"You know earlier when you said something about giving Santa the keys? Does that mean the second Santa will have keys too?"

"Yeah," Dad says. "Whether you like it or not, the Santas are regular mall employees during December and they have to be able to let themselves in."

"I don't think you should give the second Santa a set of keys, Dad," I say. "He doesn't seem trustworthy to me."

Dad rolls his eyes again. "Kait, look, there's a night security guard on most of the night. He's not gonna break in and rob the place blind, okay? And he works with children. Keith wouldn't have hired him unless he'd passed all the security and police checks, you know that. Now, if for whatever reason you don't like him then just stay away from him. He's not going to do any harm, and even if he is thinking about it, then there are plenty of my men here to stop him. So just stay out of his way and leave him to do whatever he wants to do. We'll keep an eye on him and make sure he's not doing anything wrong, okay?"

I shrug.

"Well, I saw you meet the main Santa, did you like him enough? Did he meet with your approval?"

"Yes, but he's normal," I say. "He looks like a real Santa. The new one is all scrawny and skinny and way too young."

Dad laughs. "It's just for a month, Kait. Don't worry about it. It's time to go anyway, I hope your mum's home by now otherwise you'll have to come back to mine for a bit."
CHAPTER 10

The next day is much like the first. I walk to the mall from school, Don gives me a glacier mint, and I go to do my homework in my dad's office. I try to keep my mind off the nasty Santa. My dad is right. I have enough on my plate right now, what with school and getting rid of Seth that I don't have time to worry about some creepy man playing Santa for a month. I simply won't go near his spot in the mall, won't take Pippa to see him, and let him get on with it. Dad is right, there are plenty of security guards and people around, they'd stop him before he got a chance to rob anyone blind.

After I finish my homework, I pinch Dad's hat again and go for another wander around the mall. I'm determined to stay away from the nasty Santa, but at the same time I'm curious about what he's up to. I decide to peek down his alley, just for a look. Everything is empty when I get there though. The grotto, if you could call it that, is all set up, but it's empty apart from a chair where I assume the nasty Santa will sit to meet the children. There's no sign of the nasty Santa or any of his accomplices though, so I creep away, hoping that Dad wasn't watching from the security cameras. I wander back towards the main part of the mall. As much as I love this mall and love the fact that my dad works here and I pretty much have the run of the place, I kinda wish I was curled up in my armchair watching rubbish TV and waiting for Mum to come home with Pippa.

I wish there was no Seth, no divorce, no anything different from how it's always been. Things are quiet at this time of day as most people are at home making tea now. It's almost the close of business and some of the vendors are outside sweeping the storefronts or fixing their window display after a day of customers picking things up from it. I know most of the long-term vendors and shopkeepers here, although there are a few new shops springing up here and there, things tend to be pretty traditional and unchanging around here. On the one hand, it's boring. Nothing new or exciting ever happens, and on the other hand it's comfortable and familiar and safe. I mean, I'm ten-years-old and I get to wander around the mall freely. And yes, my dad is watching every move I make from the monitors in his office, but I know that in a bigger city, a bigger town even, I wouldn't be allowed to do this. The same as the way Mum lets me walk Harry in the mornings. Everything is so close and familiar around here that it feels safe. It wouldn't be like this in a bigger town, and while sometimes I feel like it's all so boring, I also appreciate the freedom that feeling safe gives me.

When I get back to the main square of the mall, I see the nice Santa is there, decorating his grotto. It's not even half-finished and already it looks so much better than the nasty Santa's one. There is tinsel everywhere, lamettas hanging over the door like a sparkly curtain, fake felt snow, which Santa is nailing to the roof, and sparkly fluffy looking fake snow that a girl is tossing out of a bucket into realistic looking piles on the floor. I stop and stare for a moment. The girl looks about my age, maybe a little older, but her hair is what stands out the most—it's a very bright, almost electric red with chunky white strips on either side. I would kill for my parents to let me dye my hair, any colour, but especially that colour. Come to think of it, her hair perfectly matches Santa's suit. I have no idea how long I'm standing there, but when I next look up, Santa is turning around on his ladder and beckoning me over.

"Well, hello there again, Kaity," he says kindly.

"Hi," I say suddenly feeling shy. I walk over and end up standing near the girl with the bucket of snow, and I feel so dreary standing next to her. My dull and limp hair is hanging in frizzy rats tails after it got wet in the rain at lunchtime in school, and her perfectly straight bright red beautiful hair is parted in the middle and hanging all shiny and pretty down her back.

"I was hoping I'd run into you again today," Santa says. "I brought someone to meet you. This is Blizzard," he indicates towards the girl beside me. "She's going to be helping me out while I'm working here but we don't know anyone in town and I thought maybe you could both use a friend."

"Blizzard?" I say, stunned from my shyness.

"Blizzard," she nods as I turn towards her. "And you're Kaity, right?"

"Yeah," I nod. Even my name sounds dull and boring compared to hers.

"Hi." She pulls her hand out of the bucket of snow and thrusts it at me.

I shake it, surprised by how cold she is.

"Oops, sorry I've got snow all over you now," she says as we drop hands.

"It's okay," I say, dusting my hand off on my trousers. "Who doesn't like a bit of snow?"

She grins at that.

"Kaity's dad works here," Santa pipes up from where he's gone back to nailing the felt snow to the roof. "He's the one who came by to see us earlier."

"Oh right," Blizzard nods. "Seems nice. It must be cool to have your dad running a place like this."

"Well, he doesn't exactly run it," I say. "Just head of security. But yeah, it's pretty cool."

I suddenly remember I have his hat on my head and I feel stupid. Blizzard is beautiful and everything that I wish I could be and I know that just by standing next to her for all of three seconds. I bet my parents would never have got a divorce if I was like Blizzard. I take the hat from my head and stuff it into my pocket, noticing there's still glitter on my hand from where I shook hers. I'll have to remember to brush Dad's hat off before I give it back to him. A security guard with a glittery hat just doesn't work.

"So what do you think of the grotto?" Santa asks.

"It's awesome," I say.

"We're going for the gingerbread house look," Blizzard says. "I made fake sweets to stick to the roof when he's done," she points towards Santa on the ladder.

"Now now, give an old man some time, girls." Santa grins in our direction. "I can only do one thing at a time."

"The snow is supposed to look like sugar too, that's why there's so much glitter in it."

"Did you make that too?" I ask, half sarcastically.

"Of course I did," she says completely seriously. "I can't leave it to Daddy, he'd blow the house up."

"Now now, I do have my uses," Santa winks at her.

"Oh," I say, suddenly falling in as I glance between the two of them. "Is he your father?"

"He is," she says. "That's why I get to be his helper all month."

"Well, you're the one who says I'd burn the place to the ground if left to my own devices," he says good-naturedly.

"Parents!" Blizzard says to me and rolls her eyes.

I grin.

"So do you need any help?" I ask. Why did I ask? I don't know, but something made me. Something about these two, about this girl, makes me not want to leave, but I don't want to stand here like a lemon making small talk either.

"Oh Kaity, that's very nice of you to offer," Santa says. "You don't have to do that."

"I don't have anything else to do," I say. "I'm stuck here until Dad finishes his shift anyway so if there's anything I can do then I don't mind. I love Christmas. Somehow helping Santa get organized sounds kind of fun."

"Oh, I wouldn't bet on it," Blizzard says, but she's smiling and I know she doesn't mean it.

"This is always the best time of year," Santa says.

"Well, yeah Santa would say that, wouldn't he?" Blizzard says to me.

"You know you love it, honey," Santa smiles at her fondly. "You know, I don't think I have enough snow here to do this roof. Why don't you two girls go and get some more from Rudolph for me?"

"No problem," Blizzard says. "Follow me."
CHAPTER 11

"Rudolph?" I ask as we walk away.

"Oh, it's just our reindeer," she says. "He keeps our things safe while we're setting up."

I'm slightly alarmed by this, half expecting to come across a real reindeer in the middle of the mall, but somehow she senses what I'm thinking.

"Don't worry, he's plastic," she says.

"So where are you from?" I ask, trying to think of something to say that doesn't make me look like an idiot in front of this stunning girl.

"Oh, um," she glances at me. "We live up north."

"Really? And you come down here to play Santa for a month? Well, not actually you, y'know, your dad, obviously."

She shrugs. "We don't usually do it in shopping malls, but Dad wanted to come here this year. Change of scenery, I guess."

"Where do you usually do it then?" I ask.

"Oh, um. Nowhere."

Well, this conversation officially got awkward.

"I love your hair so much," I say to change the subject. "I would kill for my parents to let me dye my hair like that."

She shrugs again. "Dad doesn't mind. It pretty much matches his suit so he actually likes it at this time of year. I tend to keep it blue for most of the year, but you have to be a bit more festive in December."

"Wow, your dad must be really laid-back. My dad would have a heart attack if I dyed it any colour, let alone something pretty like that."

"I don't see what say your dad has in it. It's your hair, you have a right to have it whatever colour you want."

"People have been expelled for less in my school. Doesn't your school mind?"

"I don't go to school. I'm homeschooled so it doesn't matter what colour my hair is. I still don't see how any parent or school can tell you how to have your hair."

"Believe me, they can. Uniform is really important in my school. Apparently coloured hair is non-uniform so it's not allowed."

Blizzard snorts. "Well, that just makes me glad I don't go to school."

"How old are you?" I ask. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking. You seem really mature."

"I'm twelve," she says. "But I've been around. I've seen a lot of places."

I nod, but really I don't know why she's being so cryptic.

"So, homeschooled, huh? What do you do all day?"

"Well, in the mornings I study like normal people. History, maths, science, all that rubbish. Then in the afternoon I just help my mum and dad out, y'know, help them run things, keep track of the elv... er, books and accounts. I help my mum in the kitchen, and study how my dad works as one day I'll take over his business."

I nod. Again with the cryptic.

"So what does your mum do?"

"You heard of Mrs Claus's Cookies?"

"Of course," I say. "Who hasn't?"

They're like a world famous brand of cookies.

"Well, she makes them. And she feeds all the workers because she's a really good cook, so she spends like all day in the kitchen."

"Wow, that's really cool. If my mum did that she'd never have any cookies left because I'd eat all the dough."

"Mum makes extra batches of dough just for me," Blizzard says like it's nothing.

Wow. I can't work out if she's really spoiled or just really lucky. I can't imagine my mum making extra dough just for me or Pippa to eat. She gets mad if we steal just a spoonful of the dough she's making anyway.

"So what does your dad do when he's not being Santa for a month?"

She glances at me before answering, almost like she's measuring me up and deciding whether she wants to answer or not.

"He runs an organization," she says eventually. "He keeps things on track. Everyone listens to him."

"And no one minds him playing Santa for a whole month, miles away from his job?"

"It's not exactly a problem." She sounds like she's laughing.

I get the impression that I'm asking too many questions so I think I had better be quiet for a while.

"So how old are you?" Blizzard asks after a moment's silence.

"Ten," I say. "I'll be eleven in January."

"Cool," she says. "So what's it like around here? Any fun things to do? Do you get special privileges because your dad works here?"

I shrug. "Not really. I guess I get treated nicely by the shopkeepers because they know me, they often give me, like, a free ice cream or chocolate or something, which is cool. I like coming here."

"And you have a little sister, right?"

I nod. "How'd you know that?"

She pauses for a moment. "Oh, uh, I guess your dad mentioned it when he came to see us earlier."

I get the feeling that there's something she's not telling me, but I think it's best not to push my luck right now.

It feels weird suddenly, like Blizzard and her dad know too much about me, like the nasty Santa did, but I don't feel creeped out by Blizzard or the nice Santa.

"I would love a little sister," she says. "I'm an only child, and although there are lots of people to talk to where we live, I sometimes wish I wasn't on my own so much."

"Pippa's five," I say. "We don't really like the same things or have much in common yet but I suppose we will as we get older. I love her though. It's kind of awesome because she looks to me like I'm the best thing in the world even though I'm not."

"Oh, I don't know, Kaity, I think you're pretty great."

I stare at her. "Why?" I ask before I can stop it coming out. Of course I know that you're not supposed to refuse a compliment but still. I don't see how this perfect, beautiful girl could think there was anything good about a dull person like me.

She laughs. "Because you're innocent and fun and think that everything will be all right in the end. Right?"

Again, I get the feeling that she knows more than she's letting on. I feel like she's talking about my parents divorce, even though there's no possible way she could know about that, and even if somehow she did, she wouldn't know how I feel about it.

"I guess," is all I say in reply.

"Don't underestimate yourself," she says. "Santa knows a good person when he meets one."

I don't know what to say to that. But I do know that it makes me feel warm inside and like maybe things really will be all right in the end.

"Here we are. This is Rudolph," Blizzard says as we turn the corner nearest the staff only entrance.

We've come across a giant plastic reindeer, almost as tall as I am. Underneath the reindeer are sacks and boxes, which I assume are full of supplies.

"Don't you worry that this stuff will get stolen?" I ask, as although this is a staff only part of the mall, it's just left sitting in the hallway where anyone could nab it.

"No one would dare to steal from Rudolph, would they boy?" She asks the reindeer apparently, patting its thigh as we stand next to it. "Besides, he wouldn't let them."

Okaaay. In the grand scheme of things, I guess chatting to a plastic reindeer isn't that weird. Really. I walk around and look at the reindeer with his huge antlers, which admittedly do look pretty scary, even in plastic, and his glowing nose. I can see why people wouldn't pinch anything he was standing over.

"Here," Blizzard says, pulling felt snow out of a bag. "Grab this for me, will you?"

I take it from her.

I notice that Blizzard smells of cookies. On anyone else, smelling of food would be gross, but on Blizzard, it's nice. It's a warm and homely comforting smell, and somehow I don't think it's perfume.

"Look, these are the sweets I made. What do you think?"

She's holding out a bag to me, and as I peer inside it, to be honest, I can't believe the sweets inside aren't real. It looks like a Pick 'n' Mix she just picked up in a shop.

"Wow," I say. "You really made these?"

She nods.

"You didn't just varnish real sweets?"

She laughs. "No, I made them. Copied from real sweets, obviously, but they're only made from clay that you stick in the oven to set. It's really easy actually, you just need a bit of patience and practice."

"I'd be worried that kids would try to eat these."

"Don't worry, they'll be glued on with super glue, no kid is getting them off without a fight."

I nod. I'm sure some will try anyway.

"Come on, we should take these back to Daddy," Blizzard says. "He'll have nailed himself to the roof by now and will need someone to rescue him."

I giggle.

"It must be pretty cool to have a dad being Santa once a year. I mean, I see the Santa that the mall hires every year and it looks like a really fun job to do. I love Christmas time, you know, I like everything that goes with it. But I don't think I've ever met his family before, sure the occasional grandkid that pops in, but there's never been someone like you here to help him out. Are you going to be here every day?"

"Sure I am. It's my job to be here every day. Just think of me as one of Santa's elves."

"So does your dad do this every year?"

She doesn't answer me straight away and I think that maybe she's not going to. Eventually she says, "He does... something like this every year, yeah."

I decide not to push any further.

"So you don't believe in Santa Claus then?" Blizzard asks, and it feels like a loaded question. I get the feeling that maybe she and her dad are taking their roles a little too seriously.

"Well," I start carefully. "Everyone knows that Santa isn't real, I mean apart from little kids, obviously, they still think he's real. Like my sister Pippa, she still believes in Santa and the elves and the North Pole and all of that, but obviously now we're older we know that it's nothing more than a Christmas story, but that's okay because it's a nice Christmas story and I really believe in anything that helps to spread Christmas cheer. My dad used to tell me that anyone who helps encourage Christmas spirit, like the guys who dress up as Santa in the mall each year, that even though they're not the real Santa, they're one of his elves here on his behalf because he can't be everywhere at once, and I think that's a lovely story. That's what we tell Pippa even to this day." I realise I'm babbling and snap my mouth shut quickly, worried I've made a total fool of myself. Something about Blizzard makes me want her to like me. If she's here every day then maybe we could be friends and I'd like that. She seems so much more mature than most of the people I know.

"That's... lovely, actually." Blizzard says. "I've never heard that one before but it's really nice. Most people just tell their kids something completely unimaginative like Santa is magic and of course he can be everywhere at once, like how stupid do they think kids are, you know?"

I nod even though I have no idea why she's upset about it.

We're back in the main part of the mall, and Santa is still up on his ladder, but obviously waiting for us now rather than doing anything.

"Oh, there you are," he says as we approach. "I thought you'd got lost somewhere between corridor A and B."

"Don't worry. If there's one thing I do know, it's my way around this mall," I say, even though I know he wasn't being serious, and god why do I have to open my big mouth?

Santa is grinning down at me though. "That I'm sure of," he says, somewhat cryptically. I see where Blizzard gets it from.

"Here you go, Dad," she hands him some of the felt snow I was carrying.

"So," I say, more to Santa than to Blizzard—and yes, it feels strange referring to him as Santa all the time, he should just tell me his name and be done with it. "Do you know that you've got a bit of competition this year? You know the mall has hired another Santa?"

I wasn't sure if I should even bring it up—partly because I'm trying to forget about the other Santa, and partly because it really is nothing to do with me—but fair is fair and he should at least know that there's more than one Santa competing for the children's attention this year.

Something strange happens then. The atmosphere around the grotto changes—it was sparkly and Christmassy, but suddenly my question takes all the sparkle out of it. Santa and Blizzard both draw in a breath and share a look.

"We are... aware," Santa says eventually. "We're aware of the problem. Don't you worry about it though, Kaity. We'll be keeping an eye on him." Then he stops and draws in another breath before smiling suddenly and the tension in the atmosphere eases a bit. "It's Christmas, there's always room for more than one Santa. We'll just have to tell the children they'll get two gifts this year."

My dad appears next to me then. "Hi there, Kaity Kait," he says. "You've certainly kept yourself occupied this afternoon. I hope she hasn't been a bother to you, Santa?"

"Not at all," Santa says, sounding jolly again. "It's been a joy to have her. I need more little elves like this one."

And again, I feel all warm inside. I know that I probably haven't done anything at all to assist Santa apart from annoy him and Blizzard with too many questions, but I feel nice that he would say that.

"Kaity, anytime you're bored, you pop right on by to see me and Blizzard, we love having you around, don't we, honey?"

"Yep," Blizzard says. "It's been so great to meet you."

And even though I don't feel like it has, and I've probably done nothing but irritate her, I feel that she is being completely genuine when she says it. It's not just an act because my father is here, but that she really means it. And that Santa does too. And I know I'm blushing from head to toe.

"I must say the grotto is looking excellent, sir," Dad says to Santa. "Very good work on that."

Santa smiles. "I do my best. And Kaity has been a grand help to us both."

I feel honoured. I really do, and I know it's kind of silly and really what a stupid thing to feel honoured about, but I do anyway and I can't hide the smile that creeps across my face anymore than I can hide the blush.

"We've got to get going," my dad says. "We'll catch you tomorrow though. Night-night both." He says cheerily, putting an arm around my shoulders and leading me away.

"Thanks for having me," I say. "See you tomorrow."

"C'mon, Kait, we've gotta pop back to my flat before you go home because I've got a surprise for you."

"Oooh, what is it?" I ask.

"If I tell you now then it won't be a surprise, will it?"
CHAPTER 12

When we get to Dad's flat, he lets me in and in the corner of his living room is a Christmas tree. It's a real one and I can already smell the pine from the other side of the room.

"It's for you guys," he says. "I know your mum isn't very big on Christmas and without me there she probably wouldn't bother to buy one, but I knew my girls would want one so I got it for you. We'll take it back with us tonight," he says proudly. "What d'ya think?"

"I love it," I say, feeling tears spring to my eyes. "Thanks, Dad."

I suddenly feel so sad I don't know what to do with myself. Dad brought us a Christmas tree because he won't be there. For the first time ever, he won't be there at Christmas and I don't know what to do.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Dad asks worriedly when he sees my face. "What's wrong? Is it the wrong tree? Because I can take it back and get a different one? I know it's not very big but I didn't think your mum would want a big one..." He trails off.

"It's not the tree, Dad," I sniffle. "The tree is great. But I want _you_ there at Christmas, not some stupid tree. And not the idiot that Mum's with."

"Well, I'll see you at Christmas," Dad says. "I haven't arranged it with your mum yet but you can come and see me on Christmas day too. I'll even get a tree for myself so you girls won't miss out."

I sniffle, wipe my eyes and stand up tall. Because it's not Dad's fault and I shouldn't take it out on him. He's only trying his best after all. And I've had an idea.

We drag the tree outside and down the elevator that smells of pee and possibly other even more disturbing things and I help Dad load it into the boot of his car. Luckily it's not the biggest tree in the world and it fits in nicely.

When we get back to Mum's house—and god, how did it go from being our house to being Mum's house—Dad walks up the steps and knocks on the door and I have to remind myself that he doesn't live here anymore and he can't just let himself in. It's really weird to see your dad knocking on the door of his own house.

When Mum answers, Dad scowls at her and says, "Is that prick here?"

"No, Andrew, Seth is not home right now," Mum says over pleasantly. "Why were you enquiring and what exactly has it got to do with you?"

"What, apart from the fact you've let a psycho move in with my children? Oh, absolutely nothing, dear," Dad replies in that horrible pretend sweet voice too.

"Well, luckily I threw out the psycho that's been living with them all their lives earlier this year. My Seth is a lot less of a psycho than you ever were, you horrible little—"

"Dad brought us a present," I interrupt, practically throwing myself between them before they have a screaming match on the doorstep for all the neighbours to hear.

Also, "her Seth"? Bleurgh.

Mum rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Fine," she mutters, throwing her hands up and going back into the kitchen. I kind of hate her right now.

Dad and I get the tree out of the car and carry it into the living room.

"DAAAAAADDY!" Pippa screams at ear drum shattering volume when she sees us, jumping off the sofa and throwing herself at Dad so hard she almost knocks him, me, and the Christmas tree over. As Dad hugs her, I stand there wishing Mum hadn't gone back to the kitchen and that she was standing here watching this and seeing how much Pippa misses her father. I wish she could see how much we miss him.

I go to get the Christmas tree bucket from under the stairs where it lives when it's not in use, pointedly ignoring Mum as I pass the kitchen.

Dad, Pippa and I get the tree into position, where the tree usually goes right in the middle of the front room window, and I go to get water from the kitchen.

"Come and see what Dad brought us," I say to Mum coldly.

Dad and Pippa are standing in the living room staring proudly at the tree.

"I know it's not very big, and we can't decorate it until after the Light Up, but I wanted to get you all something," Dad says.

"Oh, for god's sake, Andrew, it looks half-dead already. And it's smaller than we usually have," Mum moans from the living room doorway.

"Well, I didn't think you'd want a big one," Dad says icily. "And it's not like I could afford anything bigger anyway. Besides, it's not for you, it's for the girls."

"And we love it," Pippa says obstinately. "Daddy, will you come round to decorate it with us on Saturday?"

"No, he won't," Mum says at exactly the same time that Dad says, "Yes, I will."

Mum glares at him.

"Guys, stop. Look, I need to talk to you." I wait until I have their attention. Time to put my plan into action.

"I've been thinking," I start. "About what I want for Christmas this year, and do you know what I want? I really want a nice family Christmas. I know you guys aren't very happy at the moment, but what I want more than anything in the world is for us to all sit down around the table and eat. I want to cook, the whole thing, all by myself, and I want us to sit down like we used to and just put all the nastiness and upsets aside for one day and be a family again. What do you think?"

"I think..." Mum starts.

"Yes!" Pippa shouts suddenly. "Yes! That's what I want too."

"I thought you wanted a Barbie doll?" Mum says.

"I want to be a family again," Pippa says. "I want that more than I want a doll."

Suddenly I'm struck with the urge to lean down and squish the life out of her. She's awesome sometimes. Honestly, I couldn't have coached her better. If I'd have thought about this, and had time to plan it and make sure they agree, I would have told Pippa to jump up right at that moment and tell them she wanted it too. But I didn't coach her. I only just got this idea in Dad's flat just now. And yet she did it anyway. Maybe this whole thing has affected her more than I thought.

"Look," Mum starts again.

Dad sighs. "I'm willing if you are," he says quietly. "It is Christmas after all. And you're always complaining about having to cook. If Kaity wants to do it in exchange for us being civil to each other for a couple of hours on Christmas day, then why not? It would be nice to see them open their presents like normal."

Mum stares at him and eventually huffs and throws her hands up in the air. "Fine, fine. He can come here on Christmas day if he promises to behave himself."

"I promise," Dad says solemnly.

I want to tell Mum that she should promise to behave herself too, but I don't. I figure they've just about agreed on this, I don't want to jeopardise it by being sarcastic. So I keep my mouth shut, and when Dad leaves I do a little happy dance in my room. This is the beginning of my plan to get them back together. Things are going to be okay.
CHAPTER 13

I hear Seth coming in before I see him. The limousine always makes a heck of a racket pulling up, and as if that wasn't enough, all the grunting and scraping noises would have attracted our attention anyway. When I go for a peek out of the window, I can't quite believe what I'm seeing.

Seth is dragging a tree up the garden path. Not just any tree, but the hugest tree I've ever seen that wasn't standing in a forest. The tree dwarfs him. The tree dwarfs the limo. I have no idea how he ever got it in the car to bring home. "Oh good," he says when Mum opens the door. "I could do with a bit of help."

"You got us a tree?" She asks, sounding way too happy about it.

"Of course I did, sweetheart," he says. "It's the least I can do."

"It's a big 'un, isn't it?" Mum asks him. "I do hope it'll fit in the living room."

"It is rather on the large side," says Seth. "But it's Christmas, we've got to have a tree."

"We don't need a tree," I say abruptly. I'm standing with my arms crossed inside the door. "We already have a tree, so you can take it back."

"Kaity, don't be so silly," Mum says. "This is a much nicer tree than the one we have. It'll just fit in the living room window nicely. I always like a big tree."

That is such a lie. Mum never likes a big tree, or any tree at all for that matter. She doesn't even like Christmas. She says it's a load of commercialism and does nothing but add to her stress levels. The whole reason that Dad bought us a tree this year is because she wouldn't have bothered. But I figure the way to make Mum mad at me and possibly not let Dad come over for Christmas day is by calling her a liar in front of Seth and Pippa so I keep my mouth shut.

Mum stands aside as Seth wrestles the tree through the front door. "You could help him, Kaity," she says pointedly.

"So could you," I say to her. "Besides, it's pointless," I continue. "It's not going to fit in the living room, so you may as well save yourself the trouble and leave it outside."

"Oh, it'll fit," Seth says, and his tone of voice is not the nice hoping it will fit kind, but telling me it _will_ fit kind. I don't like him, and I don't like his stupid tree. It's probably seven feet tall. Who needs a tree that big? The one Dad got us is like four feet and that's perfectly fine.

"What's wrong with Dad's tree?" I ask when I realise that they aren't going to stop getting this massive tree into the house.

"Have you looked at it, Kaity?" Mum asks. "It's half-dead already. And it's tiny. Be a dear and go and take it out of the bucket will you, then we can get this lovely one up before dinner."

Seth grins at her and she smiles sickeningly back at him.

"No," I say suddenly. "Dad bought that tree. Just this afternoon in case you've forgotten. We're not getting rid of it."

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?" Seth says condescendingly.

"Kait, I don't want that horrible thing in my living room, dropping its pine needles everywhere as it dies long before Christmas. Seth has gone to a lot of trouble to get this lovely healthy-looking giant for us, and me and Pippa appreciate it even if you don't, don't we Pips?"

Pippa looks up from where she's sitting on the sofa and shrugs. "I prefer Daddy's tree." Once again, I want to hug her right there and then. I couldn't have coached her better.

Mum mutters something under her breath and I can tell she's getting angry now. "Girls, please. Kait, can you go and get your father's tree out of the bucket right this second, please."

"No," I say.

"Fine," she growls. "I'll do it my bloody self then, shall I?"

"No, don't," I say, feeling suddenly close to tears and trying to will my body not to betray me and cry in front of them over a stupid Christmas tree.

"Look, Kaity, you can be as awkward about this as you want. You can turn the waterworks on as much as you want. You're the one who loves Christmas so much and wants it to be a happy time so stop making it so difficult. This tree is going in the living room whether you like it or not."

My eyes are watering and I can see the smug grin on Seth's face as he stands in the open doorway with his perfect tree.

"Wait, what are you going to do with Dad's tree?" I ask quietly.

"Oh, I could think of a few things," Mum mutters mostly to herself. "I don't care, Kaity," she says eventually. "Put it in the garden if you want."

I perk up a bit at that suggestion.

"The back garden," Mum adds.

"But Mum..."

"No. No 'but Mum-ing' me. I've had just about enough of this. If your dad had bought us a decent tree then we could keep it. As he bought us a mostly dead, no doubt on clearance sale tree, it can go. If you want to get upset at anyone then get upset at your dad for being as useless at Christmas tree buying as he is at everything else."

"I like Daddy's tree," Pippa says.

"Well, you bloody have it then!" Mum yells at her. "Enough, the pair of you. It's barely December and I never want to hear about Christmas again. Here." She picks up Dad's tree, bucket and all, and shoves it at me. It's small enough for me to carry by myself. "The pair of you can take this damn thing into the back garden and put it somewhere out of sight. If I see it, I shall pick it up and chuck it in the skip on the way to work, so if you want it, take it. And the pair of you can get out of my sight until you can learn how to treat your mother. And say thank you to Seth for getting us such a nice tree for Christmas."

Pippa walks over to stand next to me. Seth is grinning at us from the doorway.

"There's a fairy for the top in the car. I'll go and get it in a minute and save it for you. You can have the honour of crowning the tree."

I pointedly ignore him as Pippa and I walk to the back door and get out coats and wellies on.

"How come Mum is so mean?" Pippa asks as we stomp up the back garden path.

"I..." Honestly have no idea how to answer that. "She's not mean," I say eventually. "She's just a bit stressed out I guess. Don't worry about it too much."

"But I liked Daddy's tree better," Pippa says. "Why couldn't we have put that big thing in the garden instead of Dad's?"

"Well, Mum just wants to make Christmas nice for us," I say. "She thinks the bigger tree is better, even though we know it's not. We'll just have to make this one look pretty out here and then we can appreciate it and it'll be our little secret. It'll be like our own little tree just for us."

"Can we leave presents under it?"

"I don't think we should because they'll get wet when it rains or snows. We'll have to put the presents under Seth's tree, but you and I will still know that our own tree is out here. How does that sound?"

She shrugs.

"And don't forget that Daddy will be here on Christmas day. It will be like a proper family Christmas again and everything will be great. We won't even be thinking about the tree then. Besides, maybe Seth will leave before Christmas and then he'll take the tree with him and we can bring ours back in."

"You think Seth will be leaving before Christmas?"

Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that to a five-year-old. "Um, I don't know," I tell her.

"I wish he would," she says. "I don't like him."

"I know, sweetie," I say. "I don't like him either, but Mum likes him and I guess we just have to put up with that for a while. But you just keep remembering that it's only for a little while and he'll be gone soon enough and by next Christmas maybe we won't even remember that he was ever here." And maybe we can all pretend that this entire horrible year never happened, I think to myself.

"Make sure it doesn't die before you've even got it up properly," Seth says, making me jump out of my skin from where he has appeared on the path that runs alongside our garden.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Just getting the fairy from the car and stretching my legs," he says. "It's a lovely place to go for a walk."

I ignore him until he heads back towards the house.

Ugh. Stretching his legs, yeah right. There's nowhere to go for a walk around here, just overgrown old fields and a ramshackle allotment. Clearly he had come out to spy on us.

Pippa and I set the tree in its bucket next to the fence. We can't decorate it until everyone else decorates theirs at the weekend, after the big town Light Up, but I promise her we'll come out with tinsel and garden lights then.

"And a big star for the top," she says. "I don't like that angel that Seth brought."

"I think it's a fairy," I say. "I didn't even think fairies were supposed to be on Christmas trees."

Pippa shrugs.

"It's cold and dark. We should go back inside," I tell her.

"I like Daddy's tree," she says again.

"I know, sweetie. Me too," I say. "But we're just going to have to be brave and put up with Seth's for a while, okay?"

When we get back inside, Mum and Seth are standing in the living room admiring the tree that has taken the place of Dad's one. Even I have to admit it's a pretty impressive sight. It's huge, and fills up the living room window completely. To be honest, it's the kind of tree I've seen in other people's houses and wished ours looked like that. Well, now it does, even though it was Seth who brought it and it makes my heart hurt because Dad went to all that trouble to get a tree for us, and he probably couldn't afford it, but he did it anyway. So maybe it wasn't the best tree in the world, but it's always the thought that counts, especially at this time of year. It's like when grandma buys us a present we don't like; it doesn't matter that we don't like the actual thing, what matters is that she was thinking of us and that she went to the trouble to get us anything at all. Like when she always sends the tin of biscuits that Dad is allergic to, and every year Mum tells her that Dad is allergic to them, and every year she forgets and sends them again. Okay, Dad would probably die if he ate one, but the fact that she goes to the effort to go out to the shop and buy them, wrap them and post them off to us is important. That's what Christmas is all about, not material things like gifts or the size of trees, but the thoughts and feelings behind it.

"Here," Seth says, springing me back from my thoughts as he thrusts the new fairy in my face. "You can put this on if you want."

"I don't want," I snap. "It's supposed to be an angel anyway, not a fairy."

"Who cares, it's a doll in a dress either way you look at it."

I roll my eyes. "Christmas isn't about dolls."

"I bet you won't be saying that when you get one on Christmas morning."

"I'm a little too old for dolls, don't you think?"

"I don't know, seems to me you act younger than Pippa when you don't get what you want. Hey Pips, you want to put the fairy," he glares at me. "Sorry, I mean the angel, on the top of the tree?"

"I can't reach," she says.

"That's why I'll lift you up," he says smiling at her.

She glances at me, as if for confirmation that it's okay and I nod minutely so Mum or Seth don't see.

"Okay then," Pippa says and Seth puts his arms around her waist and hoists her onto his shoulders. She takes the fairy and even on Seth's shoulders she has to stretch up to sit it on the top branch which is bending over where it touches the ceiling anyway.

I can't believe Mum just replaced the tree Dad bought with this tree. This tree doesn't mean anything. It's just a stupid tree. Usually we all go and get the tree together, and even though we didn't this year, it still meant something that Dad got us one. Not this stupid man who I don't want in my house. Him or his perfect giant tree.

The thought makes tears threaten my eyes again and I mutter something about needing the bathroom but I run up to my room instead and throw myself face down on the bed and let the tears come. People underestimate the value of a good cry.
CHAPTER 14

Sometime later when my stomach is telling me I've missed tea, and my tears have dried up, I glance at the clock and realise that I've been here for hours. It's nearly eight pm, way past Pippa's bedtime, and I can't believe that no one came to get me. I figure I'll go downstairs for some cereal or something to tide me over until morning. I open my bedroom door quietly, not wanting to disturb Pippa if she's sleeping already and I try to determine where Mum and Seth are before they hear me. My face is probably red and puffy from the tears, and they know I was upset and "having a temper tantrum" as Mum calls it to make me feel stupid, and I just don't feel like facing them right now.

I creep out onto the landing and I can see under Mum's bedroom door that her main light is off but her smaller lamp is on, which means she's probably sitting up in bed reading or something. Good. Let's hope Seth is safely tucked away in the basement and I have the downstairs to myself to eat in peace. But as I pass Mum's room, I hear voices that make me stop in my tracks. Or, more specifically, Seth's voice. In my mum's room. He is not supposed to be in there. Mum said very clearly that he was staying in the basement. And that he was definitely sleeping in the basement. He should not be in her room.

I feel confident that they haven't heard me so I stop for a moment to listen. And when I finally catch what he's saying, it makes me go cold and freeze on the spot. My heart starts hammering so hard in my chest that I'm sure they can hear it.

"What have you got to keep you here?" He says it in a low sultry voice and I have a sudden mental image of him lying in bed next to her. I fight the urge to be sick.

What has she got to keep her here? Why the hell is he asking my mother that?

"Seth, I..."

"Seriously," he says in that same sultry voice. "You and me, we're good together. You haven't got anything worth staying for. I've got a nice place that you and the kids could use as your base when we're not travelling. You're always saying how stressed you are here. It's so peaceful up there. And you can find another job. And there are plenty of very good schools nearby that the girls could go to."

"I'm not sure I can just leave, Seth. Jobs aren't easy to find in this day and age, and I've been working at the nursing home for over ten years. Plus I'm not sure how the girls would cope with being away from their father. Especially Kait. She's taken the divorce really hard and as much I don't like it, the only thing making it easier on her is being able to see him regularly. Moving across the country, they'd only see him maybe once a year, if that."

"Well, perhaps that would be a good thing. And they'll adjust in time. Right now they probably think that you two are going to get back together. That's something you want to nip in the bud before it gets started. Trust me on that."

"I don't know, Seth," Mum says in a whiny voice that almost sounds like a petulant child.

"Have a think about it, okay? It's quiet and peaceful and so beautiful back at home. I know you and the girls would love it there."

"It does sound lovely," she sighs. "Let's just get through this Christmas first. Kaity seems determined to make everything awkward right now and I guess you can't expect anything less at that age with just divorced parents. But I'll think about it, Seth. Maybe a change of scenery is exactly what we need. Leave this place and all its memories behind once and for all."

And that's it. I can't hear anymore over the rushing in my ears. My knees start to give out and I have to grab onto the wall to stop myself falling down. I force myself to wobble quietly back to my room for fear of Mum or Seth coming out and finding me listening. I fall onto my bed and muffle my scream in my pillow.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

This can't be happening.

I can't even begin to process everything I've just heard. I'm not sure I even want to, but at the same time I know I have to because this is our future we're dealing with here.

Seth is asking my mum to move away with him. No, scratch that, Seth is trying very hard to persuade my mum to move away with him. And she's actually considering it. The woman really has had a lobotomy. That can be the only explanation for it. How could she even think about giving up her job, her friends, and her life here and moving away, not to mention destroying mine and Pippa's lives in the process and taking us away from our dad? I can't even wrap my head around the idea that she might do that. How could she even think that moving away with Seth is a smart idea? How could she even think about doing that to us and our family—what's left of it?

Also, me? _I'm_ determined to make everything awkward? How on earth am I doing that? I haven't done a thing, and it's not very fair that she's telling Seth I have. Apart from wanting my dad's tree instead of Seth's, what exactly have I done to make anything awkward? I can't believe my life has come to this. I can't believe that in a few short months, we've gone from being a happy, normal family, to living across town from our dad with our mum thinking about moving us halfway across the country to live with a man she met on the internet. It could even be further than halfway across the country. No one seems to have mentioned where Seth actually lives. If I saw this in a movie I'd think it was far fetched.
CHAPTER 15

"Kaity, get out here!" Mum yells outside my bedroom the next morning.

"What?" I ask groggily.

"Don't play innocent with me, young lady! I know you didn't want Seth's tree, but was that really necessary?"

"What?" I ask again. "I haven't done anything."

"Do you know what a mess you've made? We're going to be hoovering up pine needles for weeks!"

"I haven't done anything," I say again.

"Get dressed and come downstairs and help us tidy up. NOW, please!"

"I haven't done anything!" I shout after her as she walks away.

When I get downstairs, Seth is in the living room trying to hoist the tree off the carpet and Mum is on her knees with a dustpan and brush.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I think you know perfectly well what happened," Mum says.

"No, I don't."

" _Someone_ knocked the tree over in the middle of the night," Seth says.

"Well, it wasn't me. Maybe it was Harry."

"Kaity, you're not as clever as you think you are," Mum says. "Someone didn't knock the tree over. _Someone_ took the tree out of the bucket and laid it down."

"Maybe it just fell over," I say. "It's far too big for that bucket anyway."

"If it had just fallen over, or if Harry had knocked into it, we would have heard it."

"Oh yes," Seth agrees. "This is definitely deliberate. Someone laid the tree down quietly so it wouldn't wake us up."

"That's ridiculous."

"If it had been knocked over, the bucket would have gone too and the water would be all over the floor. Someone took the tree out and laid it down," Seth says again.

"You're the only person in the house who didn't want the tree," Mum adds accusingly.

"Pippa didn't want it either."

"Pippa's too small. She couldn't have done this."

"Neither could I. Even Seth is having trouble lifting it. What makes you think I could?"

"You didn't want it in the house, Kait."

"No, I didn't, but what on earth would I get out of knocking it over?"

"Clearly you were trying to damage it," Seth says. "But luckily it's only lost a few needles. No lasting damage. This tree wasn't cheap, Kaity. I'd appreciate it if you left it alone. Your mum and sister like it, even if you don't."

"I didn't do it," I say. "I promise I didn't."

"Funnily enough, I don't believe you," Mum says. "Go and get some breakfast and get out of my sight for a little while. And keep your sister out of the living room, I don't want her getting pine needles in her feet."

I roll my eyes and stomp back upstairs.

Mum has become a nightmare since Seth got here. She agrees with everything he says and doesn't even listen to me. I can't believe they don't believe me. I didn't touch that horrible tree. I swear I didn't.

My face feels powdery and tight where the tears from last night have dried on it, the memory of what I overheard in the bedroom comes back to me in a rush, and if I had been standing up my legs would have given out.

I can't believe this is happening. That's the only thing I can think, above all else. I cannot believe this is happening. I can't believe my life has come to this.

I know that I have to do something about it. And fast.

But the more pressing problem is that I have to go downstairs and face Mum and Seth. How am I supposed to sit and eat breakfast and pretend nothing is wrong when I know she's thinking about moving away? When I know he's trying to make her move away and they both think I knocked their stupid tree down? How can she even consider something like moving away? And how can I sit there and pretend that I don't know?

I do though. I get dressed, get my school stuff together, run downstairs pretending to be running late, grab Harry's lead and take him for a quick walk around the block.
CHAPTER 16

As I'm walking him, something lands in the snow in front of us. Harry runs over and picks it up. When he comes back and presents it to me, I realise that it's a carrot.

A carrot? Where on earth does a carrot come from in the middle of the street? I glance around. There is no one else around to throw a carrot. And that's when I realise that the snowmen have carrots for noses. The snowmen are still lined up perfectly in every garden, showing no signs of melting or decomposing even though we haven't had a good snowfall for days.

They are increasingly eerie, and the longer they stay there with their perfect bodies and smirking faces, the creepier they get. No one seems to notice that none of them are in the position they started in.

I throw the carrot away and tell Harry not to go after it and carry on walking, until something else hits me in the back. This time it is a snowball. I look around for who threw it, but again there is no one.

I shake myself off and continue my walk until something else hits me in the shoulder. It bounces off my jacket and lands in the snow. I bend over to get a closer look. It's a lump of coal. I stop and look around, trying to ignore the snowmen, and wait. Whoever is throwing this stuff must be hiding behind something. If I look for long enough, they will have to move eventually.

I survey the street for about five minutes, but there is no sign of anyone. Mum will start worrying if I dawdle for too long, so I give up and keep walking.

Another snowball hits me in the back almost immediately.

I spin around but there is still no one there.

"Come out," I say quietly. I really want to shout it, but it's early and I don't want to wake the people who live in this street.

No one comes out. There's no movement anywhere.

I carry on walking but my pace speeds up. Another carrot glances off my arm. I look over my shoulder but I don't expect to see anyone and I don't.

I walk faster until another snowball hits me in the leg, and then I break into a jog. Harry keeps up nicely.

I know it's crazy, but I think it's the snowmen. I think they're pelting me with their body parts. I know it's madness, and I know that it's probably just some little kid following me down the street, but if it is, then he's very good at hiding and at keeping up with me as the hits keep on coming no matter how fast I go.

None of the objects are hard, and none of them hurt me, and I don't think they're meant to. I think they're meant to scare me even more than those horrible snowmen already do.

The attacks stop as I get near my house. I can't help but glance at the snowman in our front garden. I wish Pippa didn't like it so much. It would make me so happy to kick it down.

When I get back, I wash my hands, grab my school stuff and steel myself to go into the kitchen. Seth's standing against the counter drinking what smells like coffee, Pippa's at the table eating a bowl of Cheerios, and Mum's bustling around getting Pippa's packed lunch together. How can they all act so normally when our lives are falling apart?

And why does no one but me seem in the least bit concerned about the possibly sentient snowman in the garden?
CHAPTER 17

I'm a wreck the whole day at school. Mrs Platkin has to tell me to concentrate four different times, and I still don't get the equation she's trying to explain. Tammy asks me what's wrong at lunchtime, but I can't tell her. I have no idea what to do. I can't talk to Tammy because she wouldn't understand. I'm not jealous of her, but she doesn't know how lucky she is to have a mum and dad still together. What could she possibly know about your mother trying to upend your life?

Eventually, school lets out and I'm heading towards the mall. I know that I can't tell Dad because he'll flip out and make Mum mad, then she won't let him come over for Christmas, and then everyone will know that I sneak around in the nights trying to eavesdrop. Okay, it was only the one time, I wasn't really trying to eavesdrop exactly, but that's what everyone will think. And even though I have two hours here with Dad, all I'm thinking about is how I have to go home and face Mum and Seth and somehow pretend that I don't know what she's thinking about doing.

Dad is in his office as usual when I get there, and I can't fight the urge to march over and give him a huge hug.

"What was that for?" He asks when I pull back.

I shrug. The truth is that it was because if Mum goes through with this then I'm not going to be able to do that ever again.

"I love you, Kaity Kait," Dad says.

"I love you too, Dad," I reply around the lump in my throat. Trying to change the subject and stop myself crying, I say, "I don't have any homework tonight."

"They're letting you off a bit easy, aren't they?"

I shrug and try to smile.

"Santa was looking for you earlier. He said Blizzard wanted your opinion on something and wanted to know when you'd be here. You can go and find them if you want."

I nod, just because being close to my dad is making me want to cry and never stop. How can Mum even think about making us leave?

It makes me feel good that either Santa or Blizzard want to see me though, so I leave the office, and stop outside the door for a moment just to feel. I look back at my dad through the glazed window in his office door, look around the mall below me, and I'm hit by the fact that Mum could take this all away and I have no idea what to do about it. The tears are threatening to come again so I walk away as I try to hold them back.

When I get to the main square of the mall, I see Santa in his grotto, crouched down on the floor, fiddling with a mini Christmas tree in the corner. I'm just about to greet him when he turns around and says "Good afternoon, Kaity," like he had already seen me coming and was expecting me, even though his back was turned as I walked up.

"Hi Santa," I say. I'm trying to sound cheerful but even I know that it doesn't quite work. But Santa's grotto is supposed to be a happy place and I don't want to bring my doom and gloom here as well. Who knows, maybe I'm even worrying about nothing and Mum will see sense before anything happens. And maybe it's the fact that she'd even consider it that hurts the most. I can't believe she wouldn't just say no. I can't believe she'd even think about taking us away from our dad and our home and this place we love.

"Someone's down today," Santa says. He tries to sound jolly, but it's like he knows. And how could he possibly know?

"I'm... okay," I say eventually.

Santa stands up from what he was doing and turns to study me for a moment. He looks me straight in the eyes. "Don't give up hope, Kaity."

I stare at him. I have absolutely no idea what to say.

"Thanks," is what I mumble eventually because I don't know what to say when a man dressed as Santa Claus instantly makes you feel better than you have all day, and makes you feel like sitting on his lap and sobbing your eyes out at the same time.

"Dad said you were looking for me," I say, swallowing around yet another lump in my throat.

"Blizzard wanted your opinion on the elf outfits," Santa says. "She's out the back somewhere, sorting out the delivery of chairs we just had for the Light Up fest on Friday. You can go and help her if you like, I just need to make this tree play _Santa Claus Lane_ like it's supposed to," he adds seriously as he shoots the tree a glare, and now I know I'm losing the plot because I could swear I just saw the tree cower into the corner.

"Okay, thanks," I say distractedly, worrying about my own sanity.

"Kaity?" Santa says as I go to walk away.

I turn back.

"Blizzard's a really good listener," he says kindly. "Maybe talking about it will help."

I nod, stunned into silence once again. It's like he _knows_. I don't know how he could possibly know, but I feel like he does, but instead of creeping me out, it's comforting in a way I can't explain.

I stumble along until I find the back entrance, glancing at Rudolph as I pass, half expecting him to move, but his red nose just glows a bit brighter as I walk past and I figure it must be motion sensitive. Clever for a Christmas decoration.
CHAPTER 18

It's almost dark but not particularly cold for a December evening as I go outside and see Blizzard fighting to get one plastic chair from on top of another in one of the stacks of chairs that are all around her.

"Need any help?" I ask, trying to smile.

"Oh thank god, I was just about to give up," she says. "And hey, what's wrong with you?"

I hadn't realised it was so obvious.

I shrug. "It's a long story."

"Good job we've got plenty of time then." She pauses for a moment. "I had a feeling something was wrong all day. I wasn't sure you'd show up this afternoon."

"No choice," I mutter.

"Come on, I'm sick to death of these chairs. Let's go inside for a break."

I follow her as we go back into the hallway and Blizzard sits down on the floor next to Rudolph and pats the spot next to her for me to join her. I do, and Blizzard pats Rudolph on the rump again and says "On guard, Rudolph," to him like he's real.

"Don't worry, no one will bother us now, so come on. Spill."

I stare at her blankly for a moment, wondering how she can possibly think that telling a plastic reindeer to be "on guard" could stop anyone bothering us, but I decide not to ask. Instead I sit there and tell her the whole sorry story of this year, from Mum and Dad splitting up and Dad moving out to Mum meeting this awful man on the internet and letting him move in with us.

"He's why I have to come here," I tell her. "Because my dad doesn't want me to be alone in the house with him, so I have to stay here until Mum is home too. Not that I really mind, but usually I'd be home watching TV by myself right now."

"Well, I'm glad you have to come here," Blizzard says. "I wouldn't have met you otherwise."

I nod, feeling that familiar warmth they make me feel with comments like that spreading out gently.

"But then last night I overheard them talking," I say. "Seth was asking Mum to move away with him. And she was considering it. And I just don't know what to do. I can't leave this place, I love it here, and I love my dad and my school and my friends and I just don't want to leave."

"Have you told your mum?"

"No, of course not. If I told her, she'd know I was eavesdropping outside their room. And it wouldn't make any difference anyway. She must be completely blind if she doesn't already know how much we love it here, and yet she's still thinking about taking us away."

"Can't you stay with your dad?"

"I don't think so. I mean, he moved out of our house and got a flat, and the flat is hardly big enough to breathe in. We can barely go there for an afternoon, let alone live there. And I don't think he can afford anywhere bigger, and he probably couldn't afford to look after us either."

"How come? I mean, I'm not trying to be nosy, but it seems like your dad has a pretty good job. He must be making a bit of money?"

I shrug. "I've heard him say that Mum took it all in the divorce. I know he bought the house years ago and he was broke for years because he put so much into that, and now the house is Mum's. The man is nearly fifty-years-old and working overtime and extra shifts like a teenager because he has no money. I don't think he'd want us to stay with him all the time anyway. He works too much to look after us."

Blizzard nods.

"I don't think I realised how serious it is between Mum and Seth," I continue. "I was going to try and get rid of him. I don't even know how, just annoy him and play some practical jokes on him, anything to make him so annoyed he goes to stay somewhere else, but I didn't realise Mum was serious enough about him to consider moving away with him. I thought she was just doing it to make Dad jealous, but if she really likes him that much then I don't think any of my plans are going to work."

"What about you?" Blizzard asks. "What do you think of him? I get that you don't like him, but is he, like, a decent bloke apart from being in the middle of this situation or is he just a bit of a jerk in general?"

Once again, I wish I could be more like Blizzard. She's beautiful and mature. Even the way she talks is mature, and I feel like a little girl next to her. And with most people that would make me not like them, but it doesn't with her. She doesn't treat me like I'm a little girl even though I feel like I am sometimes.

"I don't like him," I say. "He's... secretive. Like he's got something to hide. And he's just a bit strange and creepy in general. Like, he drives this huge limousine, says that he's a chauffeur for a very important man who is only in town this month but when we asked him, he wouldn't say who his boss was. And he wouldn't let Pippa go inside the car because he said he'd just cleaned it but it totally looked dirty to me. And he works really strange hours and seems to spend most of his time lying on our sofa with his feet on the coffee table saying his boss hasn't called yet. There's just something about him, you know? I don't trust him."

"Sounds like your mum would be better off without him anyway," Blizzard says thoughtfully.

"Definitely. It's just a shame that she can't see that too."

"Well, I could always help you with that, you know?"

I look at her, and unbelievably she blushes. "Well, being Santa's elf all day will get a bit boring, helping to get rid of your mum's evil boyfriend could be fun," she grins.

"You think it will work then? If I—we—were to annoy him so much he leaves?"

"You're looking at it from the wrong angle," Blizzard says. "We don't have to annoy him into leaving, what we have to do is find a way to get your mum to see what you and your sister see in him. Playing pranks and trying to annoy him is going to achieve nothing but to make him annoyed. Getting your mum to see that's he's not all that is a bit more complicated but ultimately more rewarding. And I happen to have a few getting rid of an evil boyfriend plans up my sleeve." She winks at me and her red hair swishes as she turns her head.

"How do you know all this stuff?" I ask. "I mean, your dad looks like the happiest person on earth and your mum is the maker of Mrs Claus's Cookies, they can't be unhappy. You can't have done this yourself, so how do you know so much?"

"I told you. I get around. I travel. You pick things up."

"Things like how to get rid of unwanted boyfriends?"

"I work with elves, Kaity. They're cheeky little gits, but they know all the tricks."

There's a moment of silence and you could cut the tension with a knife. Blizzard is obviously realising that something she shouldn't have said has slipped out.

"I... Wait... You work with elves?" I ask. Right, Kaity, because you couldn't just keep your mouth shut and not get involved, could you? If she wants to believe she works with elves, let her. What's the harm in it?

Blizzard sighs. "Kait, look... We're friends, right? And you can keep a secret, right?"

I nod. "Yeah, of course. On both counts."

"Okay," Blizzard says. "Then I'm going to have to tell you something that no one else knows. Something that you can't tell anyone else, no matter what, okay?"

"Okay," I say, wondering just where she's going with this.

"Kaity, this whole Santa thing, me and my dad. It's real. My dad is the real Santa Claus."

I just stare at her. Quite frankly, I'm getting a little worried.

"But that's..." I don't even have words to finish that sentence. Insane? Impossible? "There's no such thing as Santa," I finish lamely. "It's just a myth."

"It's not a myth," she says. "We don't know how that rumour started, but we're actually quite glad it did otherwise the paparazzi would never leave us alone. But it's all for real, Kait. We live in the North Pole, with elves who work throughout the year making toys for children. My dad and I deliver them every Christmas Eve."

"But that's impossible," I say. "And I suppose you fly around the world in one night on a sleigh with a magical reindeer?"

"With eight magical reindeer actually."

I snort. "Oh come on, you can't really expect me to believe that there is a Santa Claus. It's too impossible for words."

"But I thought you'd understand," she says. "You're always going on about the magic of Christmas, and I know how much you love this time of year. I thought if anyone would believe in it, it would be you."

"Well, yeah, but... How do you know I'm always going on about the magic of Christmas? Yeah, I believe it, but I barely say that out loud to anyone."

"I'm Santa's daughter," she says. "I know a lot of things. We can keep an eye on people throughout the year. We do have to do the naughty and nice list after all."

"Riiiight," I say. "And I suppose that's really Rudolph?" I wave my hands towards the plastic reindeer we're sitting by.

"Pfft, of course not, don't be silly," Blizzard says.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Rudolph's in the stable at home, that's just his spirit."

"Riiiiight," I say again.

Blizzard shrugs. "Okay then. Well, I thought you were open-minded enough to believe in us, but I guess I got that wrong. It was nice meeting you." She goes to stand up but I put my hand on her arm to stop her.

"Wait, please," I say. "I am open-minded. It's just a lot to take in, just give me a minute, okay?"

She seems to relent and settles back down against the wall.

"So you're... really Santa's daughter?"

She nods.

"And he's really Santa?"

She nods again.

"And you live in the North Pole? With elves? And Mrs Claus of Mrs Claus's Cookies fame is _actually_ Mrs Claus, wife of Santa Claus?"

"Affirmative," Blizzard says, rolling her eyes.

"But how is it possible? How is it possible to live in the North Pole? I thought it was uninhabitable for anything besides penguins and polar bears? No humans can survive there... Can they?"

"I already told you, it's the magic of Christmas. And it's not the North Pole of the physical realm..."

I decide not to even ask.

"So," Blizzard says. "You think I'm crazy?"

I shrug. "Not crazy exactly. But you've got to admit it's pretty hard to believe. If Santa is real how come everyone believes he's just a myth?"

"Because it's too hard to explain rationally. People aren't open to things that don't work from practicality and logic. When people first got wind of our organization back in the 1920s they started looking for us and our jobs became extremely hard. When people didn't find the evidence they were looking for, they decided that if it couldn't be explained by logic then it must be a fairy story. We decided not to correct that assumption so we could get on with our jobs in peace. It works. No one comes looking for Santa. No one tries to catch him out and throw him to the paparazzi because no one believes he's real, so we get on with making toys in peace and quiet and every Christmas Eve we fly out and deliver them. One time in the 1940s, the government sent military helicopters, trying to catch Santa on Christmas Eve. They nearly got him and all the reindeer killed trying to avoid them. As long as we let everyone carry on believing that we're nothing more than a fairytale, then we're safe from that kind of thing."

"But don't... Don't the parents buy the presents? How do they explain the presents just appearing under the tree?"

"Well, Santa only provides one present. And we make sure it's something the parents haven't already bought. Of course the children know who it's from, but it's usually just explained away by the people old enough to not believe in Santa. Even you must've had a random present under the tree that says 'love from Santa' on it, but everyone just assumes it was put there by a visiting relative or neighbour or someone else who's forgotten to mention they put it there?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I shrug.

Thinking about it, every year Pippa and I get a present that Mum and Dad don't seem to know about. Mum always says it must be from your grandpa, and Dad always says it must be from Uncle Steve or maybe Bob across the road slipped it in, but no one really knows who to thank so you just open it anyway and it's usually something quite cool and almost handmade-looking like a model train or a Russian doll. "Those presents are really from Santa?" I ask.

Blizzard nods.

"But why? Why go to all the effort to make a present for all the kids in the world when no one knows you exist and no one ever says thank you?"

"Because it makes people happy," she says. "Not everyone can afford lots of Christmas presents or the most expensive toys. We make something simple for every child, and those that don't get much from their families hopefully realise that there is someone else out there who cares about them. And those who can afford the moon hopefully come to realise that sometimes simple is better than the ten storey three thousand piece doll house they got from their mum and dad."

What she's saying somehow makes sense, even though the logical part of my brain is screaming at me to get away from the crazy chick, I start adding things up. The way Santa knew my name the first time I saw him. The way he always seems to know when I'm near even though he can't see me. The way I'm almost positive the Christmas tree cowered into the corner when he told it off. The way he's really going all out with his decorations and stuff, and the way Blizzard seems almost too ethereal to be completely normal.

It's like she senses when things fall into place in my brain.

"You believe me," she says. It's a statement and not a question.

I sigh. "I don't know. I mean, it kind of makes sense but..."

"But you've spent your whole life thinking it was only little kids who believed in Santa and now you're wondering if you don't too."

I shrug. "Well, you certainly seem to know more than you should do."

"I told you, we see things."

"Okay," I say finally. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why everything? Why tell me? Why come here? Why now? Why does the real Santa want to pretend to be Santa in a shopping mall for the month of December? If he's really Santa, doesn't he have better things to be doing at this time of year, and if—"

"Okay, slow down," she says. "First of all, yes he has things to do in December but nothing that can't be delegated to the workforce. Some elves have been promoted from the production line to take over Santa's duties this month. Of course the main job is to deliver the presents on Christmas Eve night and only Santa and I can do that but we'll be finished here by then anyway."

"There are really elves?"

"Yup," she grins. "Probably exactly like you imagine them to be too. Shorter than most people, petite in general, fondness for wearing green clothes and pointy shoes and hats with jingle bells on."

"And you," I say. "You're really Santa's daughter?"

She rolls her eyes. "I thought we'd covered that."

"Well yeah, but," I glance around. "Not to sound rude or anything, but isn't he a bit old to have a twelve-year-old daughter?"

She laughs. "He's not as old as he looks and I've been this age for seventy years."

"Okay," I mumble. "So why? Why come here? Why tell me who you are?"

"I told you for three reasons. One is because you need my help. Two is because we need your help. And three is because I like you and I'd like us to be friends and how can we be friends if I'm keeping this huge secret from you?"

"Okay," I say. "Okay. So why come here and dress as Santa for a month when you really _are_ Santa? Doesn't that defeat the object?"

"Well, first of all, Dad loves children. He loves nothing more than meeting children and sitting with the snivelling snot bags on his lap rattling off their wish list for Christmas, so he does pop into malls around the world when he gets a chance, but it's usually only a one or two day stop. This year, well, that's what I want to talk to you about. You see, there's this guy. He's got a bee in his bonnet about Christmas. He doesn't like it and he wants to ruin it for everyone else. Every year for the past three years he's been setting up as a Santa in a mall, and while we're not a hundred percent sure of what exactly he's been doing, what we do know is that the town he chooses has a pretty rotten Christmas that year. We heard a rumour that he was coming here this year, so Dad and I decided that the only way to stop him was to come here and catch him in the act. So here we are."

"Oh no, really?" I ask. "Is he here? Have you found him?"

"We've found him, so have you unfortunately, but there's not much we can do about it yet. He's here but he hasn't done anything wrong. As of yet, anyway."

"So have I?" I ask, repeating her words almost to myself.

And then I realise who she's talking about.

"Oh my god, the nasty Santa," I say. "He wants to ruin Christmas for us?"

Blizzard shrugs. "That's him. He calls himself Anti-Claus."

"God," I say. "No wonder he wanted to pay for his spot in the mall. Dad said that even though his bosses had already hired your dad as the main Santa, this guy came along and wanted to pay for a spot, even the crappy little alleyway he's set up in now. I thought that sounded a bit odd."

"That's Anti-Claus all right."

"So what are we going to do about him?"

"Well, that's the hard part and the part where you come in. There's really not much we can do about him, other than keeping a very close eye on him and catching him in the act if he does do something wrong. In January, Dad and I went to the town where he struck last year and tried to find out exactly what he'd done, but we didn't get much out of them. Most people wouldn't talk to us. In fact a few flat out ran away when they saw Dad. The ones we did talk to, well it was mainly incoherent mumbling about things that didn't make any sense, so we gave up. We tried to track him throughout the year, but he dropped off the grid sometime mid February. One of the elves heard a rumour from someone who knows someone who works with Anti-Claus that he was heading here this year, so Dad decided prevention is better than cure and here we are. It's definitely the nasty Santa as you call him, just walking down that alleyway you can feel it, and his habits make sense anyway. No one sensible would want to be Santa Claus in a back alley where no children will ever see him. He's obviously there for other purposes. We're just here to try to make sure those purposes don't come to fruition, and if they do, then maybe we can help. And that's why we might need you too. You have access to the security cameras, don't you?"

"They're in Dad's office," I say. "I can watch them but I can't manipulate them or anything."

"No, but you can keep an eye on him from there, maybe better than we can. Dad is still completely committed to being the mall's Santa so he expects to be busy a lot of the time with the children, but I'm acting as his elf, so I can slip off and keep watch on what the Anti-Claus is doing, and you can watch him from the cameras and tell us if he's up to anything. Maybe your dad will even let me come into his office and watch too seeing as we're friends."

"There's one snag with that plan," I say. "When I met him the other day, Dad said he didn't see because the cameras don't cover that far into that corridor."

"Well, I suppose it's possible Anti-Claus moved the camera or covered it or something. We could get your dad to check it."

"I don't know, I guess I can ask him to have a look at it. I'll tell him someone was screaming down there or something and he needs to check it out."

"I was also wondering if you wanted to be one of my dad's helpers too sometimes. We have to wear elf outfits, but we basically just have to get the children to queue up nicely and help the parents, stuff like that, but we also have to keep a sneaky eye on the Anti-Claus. It wouldn't have to be every day, just on weekends or something, whenever you're around and not doing homework."

"I'd love to actually," I say. "I really like your dad. I guess you can't fail to like him seeing as he's Santa Claus and all that, but yeah, I'd love to help. Maybe it'll take my mind off all the stuff with my mum and Seth too, and I'll get to be here with my dad."

"Right," she says. "And in return, well not really in return because I'll help you with your Seth problem anyway, but hopefully together we can stop this guy with any plans he might have of ruining Christmas."
CHAPTER 19

"So what's it like in the North Pole?" I ask as we stand up.

"Cold," she says. "Snowy. The snow melts for about two months in July and August, but even then it's still cold enough that you have to wear a jumper. It's probably not much different to what you've seen in the movies. It's a big village where all the elves live and work in the factories. Mum, Dad, and I live in the middle of the village. One of the elves is my school tutor and he comes over for three hours every morning, and then the afternoon is free. Sometimes I help Mum or Dad, or I pick up the slack if one of the elves is off sick."

"And you make toys literally all year?"

"Sometimes we make Christmas decorations too. And there's a whole department dedicated to making the packaging for Mrs Claus's Cookies. And since we knew we were coming here for December, Dad and I spent November making all the arrangements and I made those sweets I showed you yesterday and all the tinsel and snow for the grotto. November was a busy month this year."

"And what do you do on Christmas Eve?"

"As soon as the clock strikes midnight in Australia, which is the time zone furthest ahead of ours, Dad and I load the sleigh up and set off. By the time we get back from that side of the world, it's midnight here and then by the time we're done here it's midnight in America so we go there. We get back to the North Pole just as you're waking up. Then we have the day off. So you see it's not all magic, some of it is just pure luck with the time zones. I'm Dad's navigator. I drive the sleigh. He couldn't fly it without me."

I nod. To be honest, I can't believe I'm having a completely serious conversation about how Santa Claus flies around the world on Christmas Eve. There are so many more questions I want to ask, but I still have no idea if I really believe what Blizzard is saying, so I decide that maybe now is not the time to ask them.

We go back outside and get a stack of chairs each, and start walking back to the main part of the mall.

"It's okay if you don't believe me," Blizzard says. "I guess it is a lot to take in. But I do appreciate that you're willing to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"I appreciate that you're going to help me get rid of Seth and I don't want to let Anti-Claus spoil Christmas for everyone anymore than you do."

Santa is in his grotto when we get back, and I see the tree he was telling off is now standing proudly in the corner playing a tinny little tune of _Santa Claus Lane_.

"Daddy, I told Kaity," Blizzard says when we go inside the grotto.

And I have to admit there's a zing in the air. Whether I believe Blizzard or not—and judging by Santa's smile, if it's a joke he's in on it too—but it can't be denied that there is something special about this man. About both of them.

"Oh good," he smiles at me. "I suspected she knew anyway. You had guessed, right?"

"Well, I hadn't guessed that, but I guess I knew there was something different."

"And you've not run screaming for the hills which is always a good sign," he jokes.

"I love Christmas," I say. "If you're really Santa Claus then, um, that's great."

Santa smiles a big wide grin.

"So what's the deal with this Anti-Claus guy then?" I ask.

"Ah yes, I heard you met him the other day."

I nod. "He wasn't very nice. And he knew stuff that he really shouldn't have known. Come to think of it, you do too, don't you? But it doesn't feel like a bad thing with you."

"I do have certain... privileges. You have to keep an eye on things to know how to divvy up the naughty and nice list, but I know you've had a hard year, and I know that you still have faith that things will turn out all right in the end. Anti-Claus wasn't so nice, I take it?"

"He just... Said things he shouldn't have known. And he said my dad was on the naughty list, which doesn't make sense at all. He gave me the creeps."

"I can't give out information about who is on which list, Kaity," Santa says.

"It's okay," I say. "There's no way it can be true anyway, he was just making stuff up to get to me. What's the deal with him anyway?"

Santa sighs. "Sadly he's nothing more than a disgruntled child. He was a very _very_ naughty boy when he was younger. It seemed to get worse over the years, and one year when he was thirteen-years-old, I decided I had no choice but to put him on the naughty list. I don't like to do that, you understand. I believe that every child deserves a second chance and that every child should have a present to open on Christmas morning no matter what. But this boy was really pushing things and had been on second chances for nigh on six years by then. I had no choice but to leave him with nothing but a lump of coal in his stocking. I hate to do that, but I thought it might be the jolt he needed to break him out of his harmful ways. Unfortunately it had the exact opposite effect and did nothing but make his behaviour worse. The next year, instead of leaving milk and cookies out for me, he left arsenic and poisoned cake lying about. Since then he's just hated Christmas. He's been the complete opposite of everything I stand for. A few years ago, we got word that someone had set up an Anti-Claus grotto in a mall down south and was doing his very best to destroy the Christmas spirit. We've been trying to track him. It's taken a couple of years but we finally pinned him down to here. Now we just have to find a way to stop him."

"So what kind of things does he do? To ruin Christmas, I mean? How does he do it?"

"We don't know for sure. We just know that he turns up somewhere and becomes that mall's Santa, and then somehow things go from bad to worse and he disappears on Christmas Eve, leaving lots of people very not happy for the rest of the festive season."

"And how do we stop him?" I ask.

"Honestly, we don't know," Santa says. "I just figure that being here, seeing what he's doing, keeping and eye on him, maybe we can stop him before he gets any ideas, or maybe we can help to sort out what he's done."

"So does he know who you are?" I ask.

"I wouldn't imagine so," Santa says.

"But he knows that Santa is real?"

Santa thinks about this for a moment. "He believed in me as a child," he says eventually. "I would think that he still does. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he's just so hell-bent on spoiling Christmas for everyone that it doesn't matter to him whether I'm real or not and—oh look, Kaity here's your dad so we must change the subject. You do know that no one must ever know our little secret, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," I say quickly, turning and smiling as Dad comes over.

"Well, haven't you been a busy little bee today," Dad says. "I've hardly seen you at all. Hope she hasn't been too much bother, Santa."

"Oh, none at all," Santa grins at my dad. "In fact, Blizzard was just telling me that Kaity's going to be an elf for me when I need extra assistance. Only when she's free of course."

"Oh how lovely," Dad says. "Kaity does love Christmas, don't you, hon?"

"You know I do," I say, caught between cringing and hiding. I love my dad but he can be really embarrassing sometimes.

"Well, I'm off duty and it's time to go, so we'll both have to see you tomorrow. Have a good evening both," Dad says as we walk away.
CHAPTER 20

"You're really fond of that Santa, huh?" Dad asks me as we get in the car.

"I like him," I say. "Blizzard too. She's really nice."

"Kaity, I want to talk to you about that actually," Dad says. "Look, I... You're not going to like what I've got to say but I think you should hear it. I'm not sure you should be spending so much time with that Santa. I mean, he's nice and all, but he's a little weird. Did you know he's got a sleigh parked on the roof?"

"Well, he's just getting into the role," I say.

"Yes, but that's the strange part. I can understand putting a sleigh on the roof for everyone to see, if the Santa we hire happens to have one handy then sure, why not put it on the roof so all the children know that Santa is there? Now here's the weird part. His sleigh on the roof is out of sight. No one can see it."

"Maybe he just hasn't got around to putting it up properly yet?" I interrupt Dad.

"Nope. I asked him, and he just said that he was keeping it out of sight in case it got stolen. So what's the point? What's the point in having a sleigh on the roof if no one can see it?"

I shrug.

"He's just a bit weird. Don says he doesn't know how he gets to work in the mornings. He doesn't seem to have a car or a van, but every morning he and his daughter let themselves in the back entrance, completely in costume even at seven o'clock in the morning."

"Maybe they walk in," I suggest.

"I don't know. Don says they're always carrying their equipment, and they bring that great big plastic reindeer in every day instead of just leaving it here overnight. Don thinks there's no way they could've walked very far with it. We were curious so we rewound the overnight tapes, and I swear Kaity, there's no sign of them walking across the parking lot. One moment it's empty and the next moment, both of them are there at the door with this pile of Christmas stuff, but there's no sign of where they came from. It gave me the creeps to be honest with you. Don and I had a little joke that maybe he was flying in on the sleigh every morning and climbing down off the roof." Dad laughs like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"I don't think it's anything to worry about, Dad," I say. "I think he's just a harmless old man who loves this time of year and is getting into the spirit of things. Don't be so uptight."

Dad laughs again. "Now you sound just like your mother. Seriously, Kaity, I know you like them both and I know I can't stop you spending time with them, I'm just telling you to be careful. There's something a bit odd going on there. And another thing, he is very old to be her father. The man is at least twenty years older than I am and yet he has a daughter the same age as you. It's very strange."

"But not impossible, right?"

Dad shrugs.

"Blizzard is older than me anyway," I say.

"Look, I'll be careful," I add when Dad doesn't respond.

The truth is that I don't even know what I think about Blizzard and her whole crazy story myself yet, let alone what my dad thinks. I like her though. I can't help it. There's something about her that just makes her instantly likeable. Her father too, you can't help but warm to him. And okay, the whole 'I'm the real Santa' thing is a little dodgy, and honestly the fact I'm even considering that it might be true is like walking insanity, but it's undeniable that there's something special about him, and Blizzard too. Something in the air feels different, almost magical, when they're around, and I thought that before I heard what Blizzard told me today. Am I crazy for even considering it might all be true? Maybe. But Blizzard made it all sound so logical, the way she explained it, with the time zones and the paparazzi. And all these stories have to originate somewhere. Who's to say that Santa isn't really just a man who wanted to do his very unusual job in private?

That night I pluck up the courage to ask Mum if Seth will be coming to the Light Up fest with us. Dad will already be there as he's working anyway, but he won't be with us because, well, Mum would probably stab him with a reindeer antler. And he gets paid extra to work through it in case anybody tries to steal something while everyone is distracted.

"Of course not, honey," Mum says. "Seth is working that night."

I keep my sigh of relief to myself.

"Kaity wait," Mum says as I go to walk out of the room.

I turn back.

"Honey, I know he's not your father but you should really give Seth a chance. He's really very nice when you get to know him."

"I was under the impression that if you had to get to know someone to prove they are nice then they're doing something wrong."

"There's no need to be like this, Kaity. You're making all of this much harder than it has to be. Your father and I are over, Kait. We're not going to get back together, and the sooner you accept that then the easier it will be. Sooner or later your dad will start dating someone else too and you'll have to cope with that as well. I have no idea how you're going to manage if you can't even deal with me dating Seth."

"Yeah, well maybe Dad will date someone who's not a complete jerk," I counter.

"You don't know him well enough to judge him like that," Mum says sternly.

"Neither do you," I fire back.

"Kaity, I've had just about enough of all the cheek from you lately. I understand that this year has been hard on you but you have to stop taking it out on me. Your dad isn't an innocent little angel that big bad Mummy threw out. It was a mutual separation. We both agreed that it was for the best and your dad was the one who volunteered to move out. You have to learn to accept that."

"But you brought _him_ here," I say. "You don't even know him. You met him on the internet for god's sake. He's so secretive and sneaky. He's just a jerk and you can't even see what's in front of your face."

"Seth is not a jerk, Kaity, and you shouldn't use words like that, it's not nice. You know, of all people, I thought that you would be the one mature enough to give him a chance."

Great. Thanks Mum. Always go back to maturity when you know it's a constant battle of mine to get you to treat me like an adult. I hate that. If the grown ups are losing an argument, they always go back to your age like it somehow makes you less of a person than them.

"At least I wouldn't put my children in danger by inviting in a mad man," I snap.

"You can't judge someone like that when you've barely spent any time with them," Mum says. "Seth is a very nice, very decent guy, and he'd love nothing more than to get to know you, and—"

"I don't want to get to know him," I yell. "I want him gone. He's horrible."

"He's not horrible, Kaity. You just don't like him because he's not your father."

"I don't like him because he's a creepy jerk."

"Kait, you've got to give him a chance," Mum sighs.

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have. Because I love you, Kaity, and I think I might love him too. You and your sister are the most important things in my life, and Seth is very important to me too. I don't know how I'll cope if you can't get along."

"You can't love him."

"Why not?"

"You just can't," I mutter, and I turn and walk away before I start to cry in front of her.

She can't love him because she has to still love Dad.

She has to.
CHAPTER 21

"KAITY!" Mum is bellowing outside my door again the next morning. "Get out here! How dare you do this?"

I bet this is about the Christmas tree again. I bet it's fallen over again and they're all blaming me.

I open the door blearily. "What now?"

"Don't you 'what now' me, young lady. How dare you write that on the bathroom mirror? Your sister is really upset."

"What? Do what with the bathroom mirror?"

"Don't play innocent again. You might think you can get away with the tree business, but you can't deny this one. I just wish Seth or I had seen it before Pippa did, it's really upset her."

"What are you talking about?"

"And with my new lipstick, no less. Do you know how much that lipstick cost me?"

"Mum, I haven't touched your lipstick. What are you talking about?"

Instead of replying, she grabs my wrist and pulls me across the landing and into the bathroom.

"This!" She gestures angrily at the mirror. "Don't even pretend it wasn't you."

I stare at the mirror. There are words scrawled across it in bright red lipstick.

_We wish you a scary Christmas and a crappy New Year_. There are three kisses underneath it.

"I didn't write that," I say.

"Well, perhaps you could explain to me who did then, because it wasn't me or Seth, and your sister's writing isn't that good yet, and I don't think it was Harry, do you?"

I shrug.

"So that just leaves you, Kaity. Not only have you snuck into my handbag, stolen my new lipstick which I showed you last week, so you knew it was my best one, and ruined it, but you've made your sister cry as well. I hope you're proud of yourself."

"But I didn't do it," I protest.

"Then who did?"

"Maybe someone broke in and did it."

"We have a burglar alarm, and nothing has been stolen. I don't think someone broke in, without us knowing, just to write something nasty on the mirror, do you?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"You're the only person who could possibly have done it, Kaity. You and I both know that."

"Maybe Seth did it."

"Seth didn't do it."

"You don't know that. He probably did it and now he's blaming it on me."

"Or, and a far more likely scenario I think, is that you did it and you're trying to put the blame onto Seth because you don't like him."

"Why do you always take his side?"

"Because Seth isn't that immature, Kaity."

"I'm not immature!" I shout. "It's not fair. I didn't write this. I didn't touch your lipstick!"

Mum sighs. "Help me clean it off."

I take the cloth she hands me and swipe at it angrily. "You do believe me, don't you?"

"Kaity, I... I guess so," she says eventually.

It doesn't feel like she believes me.

"Where's Pippa?" I ask, biting my lip to try to stop the tears from spilling over.

"Seth's making her breakfast in the kitchen. She was really upset, you know. She thinks Christmas is going to be scary now."

"I didn't do it," I mutter again, turning and going back to my room before the tears fall.

It's so unfair. I know that's an immature thing to say, but I can't think of any other way to describe it. I didn't write that on the bathroom mirror, and just because I don't know who did, it's automatically my fault. That is not fair.
CHAPTER 22

At the Light Up Fest, Santa is in the centre of the mall square. He is the star attraction after all. I don't see Anti-Claus around anywhere, but judging by the way Blizzard is looking around, I would think he's here. She expects him to be here.

Santa is sitting in his grotto, 'Ho ho ho-ing' happily while he does a photoshoot for the local newspaper. Blizzard is in her full on elf costume, trying to get the crowd into some form of order.

Soon the boss of the mall will come down and do a speech, and Santa will get up and say something, and then he'll push the big red button to turn on the Christmas tree lights and light up the mall and all the surrounding streets. The big red button is a lie though. It does nothing, it's just for show. Really, there's someone in radio contact with one of the mall staff, and when Santa pushes the button, the guy in the basement gets radioed and told to put the plug in, which he does in perfect timing with when Santa presses the button, and that's how the Christmas lights get lit. You learn a lot of things when your dad works at the mall. I would never have suspected the button wasn't for real unless Dad told me.

Blizzard seems to give up on her task and comes over to stand by Pippa and me. "Hi there," Blizzard says, smiling at Pippa. "You must be Pippa. I'm Blizzard."

"Wow," Pippa says, staring at her in undisguised awe.

God, I wish someone would look at me like that. Even Pippa.

"Your sister has told me all about you," Blizzard tries again.

"Hi," Pippa says shyly. "I like your hair."

"Thanks," Blizzard twirls a stand of hair around her finger, like she's self-conscious, but there's no way she can be. Someone who looks like Blizzard couldn't be self-conscious of anything.

"I wish Mum would let me do my hair like that, what do you think, Pips?"

"Mum would kill you," Pippa says.

"Yeah, she would," I agree sadly.

"You know, I didn't even realise what a big deal hair colour was until I came here. People keep looking at it. Some of them have even said stuff like 'how festive' or that they can't believe I dyed my hair just for this. Some of them look very disapproving. Up in the North Po— Er, up North," she corrects herself quickly with a glance at Pippa. "Up North, everyone has bright hair. It's totally normal there. All the elv—workers have green or red hair. Some have white or pink. It's the done thing."

"Yeah, it's pretty much brown or blonde round here."

"There's a ginger kid in my class," Pippa pipes up.

Blizzard laughs and I roll my eyes.

"Hey, what are you up to tomorrow?" Blizzard asks suddenly.

"Nothing," I say. "Why?"

"Have you done your Christmas shopping yet?"

"Nope, no chance to shake the parental units yet," I grin and Blizzard smiles.

"I have to work with Daddy tomorrow, but he said I can have a couple of hours off in the morning if you want to come here and do a bit of shopping?"

"Sure," I say. "Sounds great. I know my mum won't mind. We're not exactly on the best of terms at the moment, so yeah I'd love to."

"Don't you know you should never buy a Christmas present for someone when you're mad at them?" Blizzard asks. "It's like going to the supermarket when you're hungry."

I shrug. "Don't worry, it won't be an issue. Wait, you have to buy Christmas presents?" I ask incredulously.

"Sure," she says, seemingly aware of Pippa's presence the whole time. "I mean, only small things, but I like to get something for everyone. Even just a huge bucket of sweets to put in the factories, that will keep the elv— workers, happy until Easter."

I giggle. And I still have no idea whether she's completely crazy or whether she really does work with elves.

The boss of the mall is on the makeshift stage (a milk crate and two phone directories) making a speech. I never really pay much attention to him. Usually what he's saying is something about being kind to others and to yourselves, but he's just a money hungry millionaire who wants people to buy what's sold in his mall so his annual Christmas message never really means much.

Instead of paying attention to him, I notice a movement out of the corner of my eye, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My eyes scan the room, and when I glance at Blizzard, I see she's doing the same. Thankfully Pippa and everyone else seem to be enthralled by the mall guy's speech, and no one notices when Blizzard knocks her shoulder against mine and nods to the left. As she glances over there I follow her gaze, and I'm so shocked by what I see that my knees nearly give out.

Right on the outskirts of the crowd, near the back and looking like he's come from the entrance nearest where his grotto (if you could call it that) is set up, is Anti-Claus. He's dressed in his full on Santa gear, but it doesn't work for him because he's young and skinny and seems to have a permanent sneer on his face. Doesn't he know that Santa is supposed to be a jolly old podgy guy?

Standing right behind Anti-Claus is Seth.

He's dressed in his chauffeur gear, a double-breasted suit, with a chauffeur's hat tipped to the side, arms folded, glaring at the man on stage. Sure enough, it's Seth.

Crikey.

He must be working for Anti-Claus. He says he's a chauffeur, well, Anti-Claus must be his boss. No wonder he was being secretive.

"What's wrong?" Blizzard asks, looking at me worriedly.

I look down at Pippa who is standing in front of me but seems to have all her attention focussed on the stage. I motion for Blizzard to put her head closer to mine so I can whisper. "See that guy standing behind Anti-Claus?" I hiss.

"Yeah, that's his chauffeur," she says. "Seen him around a couple of times now. I've clocked him making mysterious deliveries to Anti-Claus, haven't been able to figure out what they are yet though. Why?"

"I know who _he_ is," I say. "That's Seth."

" _That's_ Seth? As in your mum's boyfriend Seth?"

"The very same," I sigh.

"Wow," Blizzard says. "I had no idea."

"And he's working for the bad guy," I say. "He's helping the guy who wants to ruin Christmas. I _knew_ he wasn't trustworthy."

"Okay, so now we know he's bad news," Blizzard says. "Hey Kait, what's he like at home? Does he hate Christmas?"

I shrug. "I don't think so," I say. "He hasn't said much about it actually. In fact he brought us a Christmas tree, so he can't hate it that much."

"Well, he must know who Anti-Claus is. He must know he's working with the guy who wants to ruin Christmas."

I shrug.

"I can't believe that's been him all along. That's something I should have known." She sounds disappointed and I don't know why.

I wonder if Mum has seen him. Although even if she has, I doubt she knows who Anti-Claus really is. And she doesn't particularly like Christmas herself so maybe she'd support him anyway. Who knows with her anymore?

Soon enough, Santa takes to the stage with the important-looking red button in hand. Blizzard whistles when he gets up and Santa grins and waves to us both. Loads of people in the crowd turn around to look at us and see who Santa is waving to. I blush and I see that Blizzard is too.

"Christmas is a time of love and joy and peace," Santa says into the microphone. "A time to put all the struggles of the year behind us and enjoy the moment for what it is. Christmas can be magic, but only if you make it so." He holds the pretend red button up and I can't help looking around for the security guard on the radio, telling the guy in the basement when to push the plug in. "Happy Christmas Everyone," Santa says in his loud jovial voice that doesn't even need a microphone to carry right to the other end of the mall. He pushes the button and right on cue the giant Christmas tree behind him lights up like a wave from bottom to top, millions of tiny multicoloured lights sparkle in unison, all followed by a ping as the star on the top is the last thing to light.

Turning around to glance through the nearest window, I see all the streets are lit up too. Every lamppost has lights wrapped around it, with hanging decorations strung up between every two posts, lit up depictions of Santa and his reindeer. I suddenly wonder why there has never been any mythology written about Blizzard. I mean, they write about Santa and the reindeer and the elves and Mrs Claus baking cookies, but none of the Christmas stories ever mention Santa having a daughter.

When I look over, Anti-Claus and Seth are still standing at the back of the crowd, wearing matching scowls on their faces. I knew Seth was untrustworthy. I _knew_ it. Of course, the only issue now is how to make Mum see it too. I can't exactly tell her that Santa and his daughter told me about the guy who wants to ruin Christmas and that Seth is working for him, can I?

After the big light up, all the excitement seems to die down a little. All the people start bustling and moving to get away and without me even noticing, Anti-Claus and Seth have managed to slip away.

"Don't worry too much," Blizzard says in my ear. "This doesn't change anything. We can still use my plans to get rid of him."

I sigh.

"Hello girls," Mum says as she comes over to us. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Blizzard," I say. "Blizzard, Mum, Mum, Blizzard. Blizzard is the daughter of this year's mall Santa so she's hanging out here for a while this month."

"Nice to meet you," Blizzard says politely.

"What a pretty name that is," Mum says. "Were you conceived in a blizzard?"

And just like that, I'd like the ground to swallow me up, thank you please. God, parents are so embarrassing. They just haven't got a clue how to behave in public.

"Probably," Blizzard replies sweetly, and in all honesty she seems completely unfazed by the question.

"How romantic," Mum says.

"I think we should go," I say quickly before this conversation gets anymore gross. "Can I have my pocket money in the morning?" I ask Mum. "Blizzard and I are going to do some Christmas shopping while she's not working with her dad."

"No problem," Mum says.

"So I'll see you tomorrow," Blizzard says. "And nice to meet you both," she says to Mum and Pippa.

"What a nice girl," Mum says as we leave. "I'm glad you've made such a nice friend."

I'm glad Mum likes her, but that's not so important in the face of learning who Seth works for. I have to do something about it, now more than ever.
CHAPTER 23

The next day, I look forward to getting to the mall to see Blizzard. Okay, yes, I need to find a Christmas present for my mum, my dad, Pippa, and Tammy, all without them seeing it, which is quite hard when your dad spends most of the day watching security feeds of people buying stuff. Well, more specifically of people _not_ buying stuff, but you know what I mean. Usually I have to run off on my own to find presents, but going with Blizzard is kind of awesome. Plus, she's Santa's daughter, she must be pretty good at choosing presents for people, right? More than that, I want to talk to her about Seth. I can't believe that of all coincidences, the guy playing errand boy for an evil Santa Claus is living in our basement and trying to persuade my mum to move away with him.

"Good morning," I say brightly when I get to the main square of the mall and find Blizzard and Santa.

"Hi." Blizzard quite unexpectedly comes over and gives me a hug. It's surprising but nice and I hug her back as best I can.

"Morning Santa," I say, surprised when he comes over and gives me a hug too.

"Blizzard told me all about this Seth person," he says quietly. "Try not to worry too much, Kaity. Your mum loves you and your sister very much and will always put you two first when it comes down to it, even if it doesn't seem like it at the moment."

I appreciate his reassurance even if I can't quite bring myself to believe it yet.

"Thank you," I say to him, hoping that it's enough to convey how grateful I am for his attempts at comfort, even though I have no idea how to put it into real words.

"Before we all get mushy," Blizzard says. "Shall we go and do some shopping before the crowds come in?"

I nod in agreement, and Blizzard and I leave Santa with his cup of coffee, which he really seems to love. Apparently they don't have Starbucks in the North Pole.

"I hope you didn't mind me telling my dad," Blizzard says when we're out of sight and earshot. "I mean, he's the one who has come here to stop Anti-Claus, he did have a right to know."

"It's fine," I say. "I like your dad. He's so..."

"Santa-ish?" She offers.

"Yeah," I say in agreement.

"So did you say anything to your mum last night?" She asks. "About Seth?"

I shake my head. "What am I supposed to say? She's hardly going to believe that he's working for a Santa who wants to ruin Christmas, is she?"

"Who does she think he works for?"

"I don't know, to be honest. When I asked him about his job, he was totally secretive. He didn't want to tell Pippa or me anything. I just assumed that it was because we were kids and that he'd told our Mum. I don't think she'd just have let him stay with us without knowing what this work was, but now I'm starting to wonder."

"He's probably told her something," Blizzard says. "Just not the truth. He isn't going to go around advertising the fact that Anti-Claus is here to ruin Christmas, is he?"

"No, I guess not. I just don't know how we didn't put two and two together until now. Y'know, the whole only being in town for December thing should have given it away."

"So has he said anything that might give us some clues to Anti-Claus? I mean, I know you won't agree with me, but it's actually a good thing that he lives with you. You might be able to find out stuff that no one else knows, you know? And we have the advantage because he has no idea who we are. Has he mentioned much about his boss at all? Has he said what he does for the rest of the year?"

"Not that I can think of. He's so secretive. He has no intention of telling us anything."

"Do you think he's with Anti-Claus all year round, or do you think he does something else and just works for Anti-Claus in December?"

"I don't know. I mean, from the way he was talking I got the impression that he's worked for this boss for a long time, not that it was a one month only deal. And he said he travels a lot. When I overheard him trying to talk Mum into moving away with him, he definitely said that he has a house we would use as a base when we're not travelling."

"I guess that would make sense," Blizzard says. "I told you Anti-Claus tends to drop off the radar sometime mid-February, I guess he could be travelling somewhere else. I know we have to get rid of him from your mum's life, Kait, but in the mean time, you can really help us with this. But you aren't gonna like my suggestion," she says warily.

"Go on..." I'm apprehensive, but somehow I trust Blizzard in whatever she suggests.

"I think you should give him a chance. I mean, not really give him a chance, just act like you're giving him a chance. Your mum wants you to, right?"

I nod.

"Well, tell her that you will. Tell her that you're willing to try being friends with him. Act like you're trying. You don't have to do much, just do something like go and sit in the living room with him when he's watching sports and ask him how he is, how his day has been... Anything like that. You could also casually ask your mum 'where does Seth work?' Feign interest in him, maybe that will give us a clue to how much your mum knows. In the meantime, you'll be in your mum's good books, and we can use it to our advantage in getting rid of him. Right now, your mum knows you hate him and will probably see right through any attempts at getting more information. Act like you're making an effort to be nice and it will work better."

"How?" I ask. I'm not so sure I like this plan, but overall I do trust Blizzard.

"For example, you said you like to cook?"

I nod.

"So after a couple of days of feigning interest in Seth, offer to cook them a meal, but cover his with salt. Your mum's will be fine, but Seth will either have to say it's awful and risk upsetting you both, or he'll have to eat it and look like he's enjoying it. It's an old trick but still a good one. And you won't be on your own in anything because I'll help you obviously."

"How do you know this stuff?" I ask. "I mean, you're Santa's daughter, you must have an amazing life, I bet you've never had to do this."

"I work with three hundred elves. I've had to help them get rid of an unwanted admirer or two."

"Aren't you supposed to be a goody two shoes? I mean, surely Santa's daughter should be top of the nice list? All this sneakiness can't be good, right?"

"It's judged on a situation-by-situation basis. It's not being nasty if the ultimate cause outweighs the suffering."

"Wow, you've really gone into this."

"I'm Santa's daughter. It would be the scandal of the century if I got myself put on the naughty list, wouldn't it?"

I nod like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Just try and be civilised to him," Blizzard says, going back to the original topic. "At this point, any words or info you catch is extremely helpful. Try to be friends with him and he makes himself look like a jerk by turning you away. Make sure your mum is there when you ask him anything, because either he'll have to answer, or your mum will see that's he's not making an effort with you. Any way we can paint him in a bad light to her, especially when it looks like you're really trying to get along with him, that's what we need. Telling her you don't like him and he works for evil won't make a bit of difference except to annoy her. If she sees he's not trying to be nice to her kids, then she'll have to think about what kind of man he is, and that's when she'll realise that maybe he's not all she thought he was."

I nod. "I can't believe how mature you are. You just seem to know everything. I wish I was more like you."

"Oh Kait, don't say that. You're perfect the way you are. Everyone is."

I smile at that.

"I love talking to you," she says. "I never get to hang out with real people like this, it's really fun. I'm so glad I met you."

I blush at that. "I'm totally glad we met too," I mumble.

She grins, big and bright. "Thanks. I'm really glad we're friends."

"Me too," I say.

"And I can't believe we haven't gone into a shop yet, come on."

"So how come you have to buy presents then?" I ask Blizzard. "I thought you made everything yourself with the elves."

Blizzard smiles. "I don't _have_ to buy presents anymore than anyone else does, but I like to. Imagine that you're Santa Claus, and you spend the whole year overseeing the making of presents, and then you spend almost a whole day every Christmas Eve delivering these gifts to every child in the world. When you finally get home on Christmas Day, you settle down in your chair and put your feet up, and you've delivered a present to everyone in the world who needs one, but no one has thought to get you a present of your own. I always think of that. I mean, Christmas is kind of a big deal for us all year round, but we still have Christmas Day. After Daddy and I get back from the deliveries and have a nap, Mum makes a stunning dinner, and we sit around the table and eat and open a few presents. The elves always make us something different and make the effort to keep it totally secret from us all. That's no easy task seeing as Dad has to keep track of every single thing that gets made, but they do it anyway and somehow they manage it every year. I like to get them something in return, especially when we go somewhere different, like here. The elves will love to open something from the 'real world' as they call it. Mum too, she loves everything that goes on here."

"That's really nice," I say.

I can't even try to imagine where Blizzard is from, what their house and the rest of her family are like, and what it's like to buy presents for three hundred elves.

It turns out she only buys a couple of presents, sweets mainly as elves love sweets, and Blizzard buys a couple of bucketfuls of various candies for them. She gets her Mum some cookbooks, and she gets her Dad a pair of slippers that you can heat up in the microwave. Even I know he will love them.
CHAPTER 24

When we get back to the main square, after stashing our bags with Rudolph to guard them, it's quieter than I thought it would be. To be honest, we'd rushed back as we thought Santa would be snowed under but he's sitting alone in his grotto watching the crowds go by.

"Huh," Blizzard says. "I thought you'd be busier than this."

"It's quiet," Santa says.

"But the mall is busy," I say.

"I've seen lots of kids," he says. "No one wanted a photo though."

"Wow," Blizzard says. "Is the spirit of Christmas really that dead?"

"I don't think it's that," Santa says. "I'm just sitting here watching people go by, and—look, there's another one, you see?" He points out a small child hurrying along with his mother, the child carrying a huge teddy bear that's almost bigger than he is. "That's the fifth one I've seen with a bear like that. And some have been carrying dolls or boxes."

"Well, people are Christmas shopping," Blizzard says.

"But don't you think it's strange that children are getting toys now? Wouldn't you think that the parents would keep them until Christmas?"

I shrug.

"Yeah, I kind of see your point," Blizzard says. "What are you getting at?"

"This has Anti-Claus written all over it," Santa says.

"You think he's selling toys?" I ask. "I'm pretty sure he can't do that, he doesn't have a traders licence."

"Oh, I somehow doubt that he's selling them," Santa mutters.

"You think he's giving away these toys for free?" I ask. "Really?"

"I wouldn't put it past him. This could be how he's getting visitors to his grotto, by offering every child a free toy. I don't know what the catch is, but this is Anti-Claus we're dealing with so there's got to be one."

"But his grotto was empty just now," I say.

"We looked like an hour ago," Blizzard adds. "There was no one there. You think he's had time to get all these toys and kids in since then?"

"An hour or so is plenty of time to set up," Santa says. "You know, girls, I fear we may have some serious competition on our hands this year. If Anti-Claus is giving away giant toys, all the children are going to want to go to him. I have nothing as interesting to offer."

"But you're Santa," I say. "People will want to come and see you just for that. You don't need to rely on some cheap gimmick or giant toys probably manufactured by sweatshops in China to bring children to see you."

"I'll sneak over and have a look at what he's doing," Blizzard says. "Kait, you stay here and keep an eye out."

Blizzard walks off and I sit down on the floor of the grotto beside Santa.

"I should have realised he would try something like this," Santa says quietly, and it almost feels like he's talking to himself instead of me. "What I have to offer children is nowhere near as interesting to them as a new toy."

"What do you offer them?" I ask.

"I give all children a Christmas wish," Santa says.

"Do they come true?" I ask.

"Wishes and belief in something that can grant wishes is so important to children, but unfortunately it's not as tangible as a giant teddy bear. And working here like this, it's the parents you have to attract, not so much the children, and the parents are going to be far more attracted to a toy they don't have to buy for Christmas than a wish that requires belief in the spirit of Christmas to feel."

"But you're Santa," I say. "There's something about you that's different. You're not like all the other Santa's in the world. Kids can feel that."

As if on cue, a mother and her daughter walk up to us. I smile brightly and stand up to help them, and Santa stands with a smile and a 'Ho ho ho'.

"What are you offering?" The woman demands.

"I beg your pardon?" Santa asks kindly. Kinder than I would have been, given her attitude.

"The other guy down the road is giving away toys. What are you giving away?"

"Well, ma'am, I am giving away Christmas wishes. Far more valuable than toys any day," he winks at the daughter.

"Pfft," The woman rolls her eyes. "No gifts and charging 50p for a photo. Nonsense. You, sir, need to get your act together. The other Santa has a queue a mile long. We'll be joining it." With that, she spins on her heels and storms away, dragging her little girl behind her. The little girl looks sadly over her shoulder as she's whisked away and she waves shyly to Santa before the mother tugs her arm again.

"She knew you were different," I say.

"Unfortunately, Kaity, it's the parents who control these things. And you heard her. Anti-Claus is giving away toys. He has a mile long queue. I'm giving away belief in the magic of Christmas and I have no one."

"You have me and Blizzard," I say. "We'll do something. Try to generate some interest or something. I'll bring Pippa to see you and she'll tell all her friends to come too."

"Well," Blizzard says as she slips into the grotto. "You wouldn't believe it down there."

"Let me guess. Queues a mile long and a free giant toy for every child?" I say.

"Yes, we heard," Santa says to her. "A very rude woman was kind enough to tell us."

Blizzard sighs. "There's got to be a catch."

"Maybe not," Santa says. "Anti-Claus is sneaky like that. He's giving away toys with no catch, just hoping that people will remember and go back to him, but next time there will be a catch."

"We've got to do something," Blizzard says.

"I'm in," I add. And I realise that I am in. I really do want to help Santa and Blizzard get this whole mess sorted out.
CHAPTER 25

The next day I'm back at the mall helping Santa and Blizzard. Blizzard has given me an elf hat to wear but I'm not in full elf costume like she is. Mum has even promised to bring Pippa by later to meet Santa.

"Any news on the Anti-Claus front?" I ask.

"Nope, he's still there but he's been pretty quiet. He's not bothered us at all."

"Glad to see your dad's visitors are picking up," I nod towards the small but steady queue of children and parents lining up to meet Santa.

"Yeah, apparently Anti-Claus is not doing photos with children," Blizzard says. "They go to him for their free toy and then come to Dad for their photo. I don't like it, but we can't exactly turn them away. I wish we could tell people it's one or the other and they have to choose to go to us or him, but everyone would choose the free toy over us. I don't know how he can afford to do it, but he's certainly got a good thing going with giving out free toys."

I nod.

"Did you find out anything at home?"

"No, not much luck on that front. Seth has been out at work a lot lately so I haven't had much chance to ask him anything. And I asked Mum about his job, and she just told me he's a chauffeur for a businessman."

"Is that what he's calling himself these days?" Blizzard mutters.

"Hi girls," Mum says, unexpectedly appearing next to me with Pippa in tow. Pippa is looking around in awe at the grotto and surrounding area. Blizzard has worked hard to make it look like a proper little winter wonderland.

"Hi Blizzard," Pippa says shyly when she spots Blizzard standing there.

"Kait, be a dear and keep an eye on Pippa while I go and grab some shopping, would you?"

I go to object but Mum has left before I have a chance.

"Hey Pips," Blizzard says, crouching down so she's the same height as Pippa. She looks over at her Dad who is just finishing up with the last child in the current queue. "How'd you like to go and meet Santa?"

"I'd love to," Pippa says.

Blizzard takes one of her hands and I take the other, and we stand in the queue.

Santa laughs when he looks up and sees us.

"Well, well, well, who have we got here then?" He asks.

"This is my little sister, Pippa," I say.

"Hello there, Pippa. Your sister has told me all about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Pippa grins from ear to ear at that, and even though I don't think I've actually said that much about her, I think it's really nice of Santa to make her feel important.

"Do you want to come and tell me what you want for Christmas?"

Pippa bounds over and climbs up on his lap.

Blizzard is standing behind the camera ready to take a picture. "Say cheeeeese," she says brightly and both Pippa and Santa grin as the flash goes off. Another picture to add to the Pippa with Santa collection from previous years, but this one's different. This one is the real thing.

"Now then, Pippa," Santa rumbles. "What do you want for Christmas this year? Have you thought about it yet?"

"Yes," Pippa says happily. "I wrote a letter to you the other day. Did you get it yet?"

"Do you know, I'm not quite sure. I'll have to check with my elves. I had to come and work in the mall this year so my elves are handling my letters for me. I'll give them a ring tonight and find out if they got your letter. I'm sure they have it by now. How about you tell me what was in the letter, and then I can make extra special super sure that you get it on Christmas day?"

Pippa giggles as she rattles off her list of various Barbie dolls and Polly Pockets, which I know Mum already has a few of hidden in the attic.

"Make sure you check under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning," Santa says. "Blizzard and I will deliver something extra special just for you."

Pippa bounces on Santa's knee at that.

"Now, how about your wish?" Santa asks her. "What do you _really_ want for Christmas, Pippa? Something that might require a bit of magic to ensnare. Can you think of anything like that?"

Pippa nods.

"Lean over and whisper it in my ear then. You know wishes won't work if everyone hears them."

Pippa clambers up and whispers something in Santa's ear. Judging by the soft smile on his face, I think she wants the same as me.

"Well then," Santa says, patting her arm gently. "You keep believing in the spirit of Christmas and we'll see what magic we can do. How does that sound?"

"Thank you, Santa," Pippa says happily. She climbs off his lap and runs back to me, almost vibrating with joy.

"How about you, Kait? You want to come and tell Santa what you want for Christmas?"

"I'm a little old for sitting on Santa's knee," I say.

"Nonsense. You're never too old for Christmas," Santa says. He pats his knee. "Come on."

"Yeah, go on, Kaity. Have a go. Gooo ooooon," Pippa whines, tugging on my hand.

I look helplessly towards Blizzard who's just standing there giggling.

"You know you want to really," Santa says with a smile.

"Okay, okay," I say.

I walk over and position myself on Santa's knee.

"Say cheese," Blizzard says and I can't help but smile as the flash goes off. Even though I feel dumb for sitting on Santa's lap at my age, I tell myself it's different because I know him now, and really, he's just my friend's dad.

Pippa is standing watching with a smile on her face.

"So, Kaity," Santa says. "What can I get you for Christmas this year?"

"I want... I don't know," I say after a while.

"Haven't you asked for anything yet?"

I shrug. "I've had a lot on my mind lately. Presents don't seem so important anymore."

"Well, we can't have that," Santa says. "Everyone needs a present on Christmas Day. Let's see... Well, I think you're too old for Barbie dolls and teddy bears. And I don't think you're into cars and sports, are you?"

It's all good-natured so I smile and go along with him.

"I bet you like reading though, don't you?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Plenty of people actually. They don't know what they're missing though. Now let me think... I can picture you curled up on your window seat, wrapped in a big fluffy blanket and a pile of books, how does that sound?"

I smile. "Sounds lovely."

"Well then, you'll have to make sure you check under the Christmas tree on Christmas Day, okay?"

I nod.

"Not the one in the living room though. Check under the one in the garden."

I stare at him. "How on earth did you know about that?"

"I'm Santa," he taps his nose and smiles.

Like being Santa explains everything, including practically psychic powers.

"Do you have a Christmas wish, Kaity?" he asks.

I think about it for a moment. Let's face it; my family needs all the magic we can get. I lean over and whisper in his ear.

"I want my parents to get back together."

When I pull back and look at his face, I see the same sad smile he had after Pippa told him her wish.

"I can spread a bit of magic, but I can't change fate, lovely," he says quietly and he sounds so sad that it makes a lump form in my throat. "Keep your faith in them, and don't give up on love, Kaity, but realise that sometimes relationships end for the right reasons even if it doesn't seem so at first."

I nod and swallow around the sudden urge to bawl my eyes out. I had expected him to say something like that.

"If I try," I say. "Will it work?"

I know I don't need to explain it any further. I know that he already knows.

"I don't know, lovely. But no harm ever came from trying."

I nod.

"Okay then, you had better give me a hug because we're holding up the queue."

I glance behind and realise there's a few children waiting for Santa's company now. I quickly hug him and jump down, batting uselessly at my eyes, which are determined to water. In public.

"Fun, huh?" Pippa bounces over and grabs my hand.

"You have no idea," I say.

We stand for a while and just watch as the steady stream of children clamber onto Santa's lap, smile for Blizzard while she takes the photograph, and whisper their Christmas wishes in Santa's ear. I can't help but wonder how many of them are going to be disappointed come Christmas morning.

Mum comes back after a while, loaded up with shopping bags. She drops them at my feet.

"Quick, Pippa, there's something I want to show you," she takes Pippa's hand and drags her off down the corridor. "Kaity, keep an eye on those bags for me. And don't even think about looking inside, they're Christmas presents," Mum calls over her shoulder.

The truth is that Mum knows she can trust me with Christmas presents. I'm not one to go snooping around trying to find what she's bought me. I prefer the surprise on Christmas morning. That is half the fun after all.

A while later, I see Mum and Pippa walking back. I'm horrified to see Pippa is pulling along a life-sized doll.

"Where on earth did you get that?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

"The other Santa. I know you like this one for some reason but the other one is giving away free toys. This one should consider doing something similar if he wants to make any money at all this season. That guy has a queue a mile long."

"He's not in it for the money," I snap. "Besides, this Santa is giving away something far more valuable than some stupid toy."

"My doll is not stupid," Pippa interrupts.

"What?" Mum asks me.

"He's giving away the spirit of Christmas," I say defensively, even though I know she won't understand. "Magic and wishes are more important to children than useless toys."

Mum rolls her eyes. "This Christmas thing really is a load of rubbish, isn't it?"

"Urrrgh." I don't even care that I said it aloud. Mum will never get why my dad and I love Christmas so much. Thankfully, Pippa is taking after us too.

"Come on, Pips, let's go home and put the shopping away."

"No," Pippa says. "I want to stay."

"You mind bringing her home with you, Kait?" Mum asks.

"Course not, she's welcome to stay with me."

"Good, that'll give me more time to hide the presents," Mum grins at us. "Don't stay too late. I'm going out on a date with Seth tonight so if you're not home before tea you'll have to do something for yourself and feed your sister too. Mrs Johnson from next door will be round at seven to keep an eye on you both."

I don't respond. Ugh. Somehow the thought of Mum going on a date with Seth makes me feel physically sick. It's even worse than her thinking I need a babysitter. I wonder if Dad is watching. I mean, thankfully he doesn't get sound, but I know he's up in his office watching his security feeds. I wonder how he feels watching his wife do the Christmas shopping that they always used to do together. I wonder if he hurts as much as I do.

"Kaity, do you like my doll?" Pippa asks.

"No," I snap. Then I realise I shouldn't have snapped at her.

"Sorry, Pips," I say. "I didn't mean that. It's a very nice doll."

"She's called Ivy," Pippa says. "Like in _The Holly and the Ivy_ because it's Christmas."

"Very clever," I say.

The doll is quite creepy actually. It is literally life-size, out of the corner of my eye it looks like I have two children standing next to me. It's one of those momentum walking things. You know the kind that you pull the arms forward and it propels the bottom half along so it looks like it's walking. It's creepy. Very creepy.

"What did you think of the Santa that gave it to you?" I ask innocently.

Pippa screws her nose up in thought. "I didn't like him. He smelled funny and he kind of growled when I got on his lap. And he wasn't old enough either. He was just a guy in a suit. Blizzard's dad is much nicer."

As if on cue, Blizzard appears next to us.

"Hey," she says. "Nice doll."

"Mum took her to see Anti-Claus," I explain.

"I've wanted a doll like this forever," Pippa says. "Mum would never get me one though and now I have one."

"Cool," Blizzard says.

"Mum said he was still packed out down there," I say to Blizzard.

She sighs. "I know. I don't know what we're going to do about it. We can't compete with him."

"We'll think of something," I try to reassure her, even though I have no idea what that something might be.
CHAPTER 26

That evening Pippa and I are walking home from the mall together. Pippa is dragging her doll along with her, and once again it feels like I'm walking along with two kids as the doll is almost the exact same height and size as Pippa is. It's really freaky.

"How come Blizzard's dad is really Santa Claus?" Pippa asks suddenly.

I stare at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say eventually.

"You don't have to treat me like a baby," she says. "I know he's different. The others have all been men playing dress up, but he's not the same. You can tell he's different. I know that you know, Kaity."

"He's just a guy who loves Christmas, Pips," I say. The last thing anyone needs is Pippa going to school and telling everyone that he's the real thing. "Besides, don't you think Santa is super busy this month at the North Pole? No way does the real Santa have time to stop in a shopping mall in December. Think of all the presents he has to prepare."

Pippa rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue like I'm being incredibly dense, and it would be annoying on anyone other than my five-year-old little sister.

"Do you think Mum and Seth have gone already?" Pippa asks, changing the subject.

"Probably," I glance at my watch. "Which means I'm in charge of tea. What do you want?"

"Peanut butter," she grins. "Peanut butter and banana sandwiches and Ribena. Can you do that, Kaity?"

"Not a problem," I say.

"I don't like Seth," she says out of the blue. "I want Daddy back."

"So do I, honey," I say. "But we have to be patient. Dad hasn't gone very far for now and we're lucky that we can still see him. I'm sure he'll move back in soon so we just have to be patient until then."

Even as I'm saying it, I realise how much doubt is forming in my mind. Maybe that's what Santa was trying to say to me today. I briefly wonder if maybe getting Pippa's hopes up is the right thing to do.

"I hope he does," Pippa says. "I don't like Seth living in our house. The bathroom always smells after he uses it."

I can't help the snort of laughter. "I know, sweetie, it does."

"Kaity... Do you think these snowmen are weird?" Pippa asks after a pause.

We're almost on our street now, there's a snowman in every garden, and it still feels like they're watching us. Also, as if things couldn't get any weirder, we haven't had any more snow since yesterday morning, and the sun has been out and shining today, and yet these snowmen are just as perfect as they were days ago. You would think they would have started to melt or something by now.

"A little," I say to Pippa. "They just sort of sprung up, didn't they?"

"It's like an army," Pippa whispers. "I feel like they're watching me."

"I know. I feel it too. But the important thing is not to worry. The fact of the matter is that they're just snowmen. They can't move. They can't actually do anything. They're inanimate objects, so try not to worry too much, okay? They can't hurt you."

"I know they can't hurt me, Kaity," she says like I'm the stupidest person in the world. "They're _snowmen_. They're just kind of creepy."

Says the girl pulling the life-size walking doll along the road with her. Because walking dolls are way creepier than an army of snowmen all right.
CHAPTER 27

When I go to take Harry for his walk in the morning, the first time I know anything is wrong is when I'm on my bum by the garden gate with my legs in the air.

"Mum!" I yell, but she's already opening the door. She must have heard my screaming and Harry's barking as we slid down the garden.

"What's wrong?" She asks worriedly. "What happened?"

"Don't come out, it's all slippery." I struggle to get to my feet, holding onto the gatepost for support.

Mum stands on the doorstep and looks. "It's all... Ice."

I look around as I cling to the gatepost. It's true. The whole garden is covered with ice. It's like our very own ice rink.

"This is crazy," I mutter.

"Stay there, I'll put the kettle on," Mum says.

I'm not sure how a cup of tea will help in this situation, but I stay still while she goes back into the house.

I can't help but glance at the snowman. I swear he has a smug smirk on his face.

Mum comes back out with the kettle, and instead of making tea as I'd thought, she pours the boiling water down the steps and over the garden. The ice starts to crack and melt under the heat of the water. Mum does this three more times before it's safe to walk on the path.

"Well, look at this," Mum says as she comes out. Just at the corner of the house, she picks up the end of the hosepipe. There's water trickling out. "Someone's gone and left the hosepipe running. It's probably been running all night. No wonder it's frozen over."

"Who?" I ask.

"I don't know, Kaity. You haven't touched it, have you?"

"Of course not," I say indignantly.

"Maybe Pippa was playing with it. I'll ask her."

"Why would Pippa be playing with the hosepipe in the middle of December? It's not exactly paddling pool weather, is it?"

Mum shrugs. "Well, it didn't get pulled out and turned on by itself, Kait."

"I bet Seth did it."

"He may have washed his car, I suppose. But I'm sure he'd have had the sense to turn it off and put it back after himself. Besides, I don't remember him washing his car last night, do you?"

I shrug. I try not to think about Seth and his whereabouts too often.

"I'm going to take Harry before I'm late for school," I tell Mum.

"Be careful in case there's any more ice," she says.

I give the snowman a wide berth as I pass it. I don't think it was Seth who left the hosepipe running last night.

I think it was the snowman.

Mum is in the living room when I get back from my walk.

"Kait, do you know who that card is from?" Mum points towards a Christmas card standing on the sideboard. "It isn't signed."

I walk over and pick it up. _Jingle Bells_ plays out of it and makes me jump. Written inside is "To Isabelle, Seth, Kaity and Pippa," and the card itself reads 'Merry Christmas', but there is no signature on the bottom.

It's quite weird actually. Who would write a Christmas card to our family and include Seth? He's only been here a few days. And he is _not_ staying, no matter what the sender of this card thinks.

I study it, trying to work out if I recognise the handwriting, and _Jingle Bells_ continues playing. Most musical Christmas cards stop after one round to conserve the batteries for the next unsuspecting opener.

That's when I hear it.

It sounds like... Screaming.

And it's coming from the card.

"Mum, do you hear that?"

"What?"

"The card. It's screaming."

"Don't be so silly."

"It is! Listen." I hold it open towards her.

"I don't hear anything, Kaity."

"It's really faint," I say. "But I swear I can hear screaming over the _Jingle Bells_. Listen to it, please."

"You're imagining things, Kait. Leave it on the sideboard. I'll see if Seth knows who it's from."

Maybe I am imagining things.

I sigh and go to put it back. Come to think of it, that reindeer on the front looks completely terrified. And the cartoon Santa in the chimney doesn't look too happy either.
CHAPTER 28

When Tammy and I go to collect the infant school children for the morning assembly on Monday morning, we really can't help but overhear a bit of the conversations they're having. What's different about this morning is that they all seem to be having the same conversation.

"What's with the bruise, Sarah?" One little boy is asking.

"My skipping rope got caught around my neck," the little girl with a nasty looking bruise on her neck replies. "It was like a snake, I couldn't get it off."

Another little boy with an arm in a plaster cast is saying, "It just zoomed across in front of me and tripped me up on the top stair. I don't even know how because there was no one using the remote control."

"My bear keeps staring at me," one girl is saying to another girl. "It watches me wherever I go."

"My doll moves," the other girl replies. "I left it on the chair but when I woke up it was sleeping next to me in bed."

"My Etch A Sketch said something bad," another girl says. "I wasn't playing with it. It was on the desk and I hadn't touched it, but my mother came in and got really mad at me for writing bad words with it."

"My dad says my Jack in the Box is trying to give him a heart attack. It keeps jumping out by itself even when it's turned off."

"My remote control car doesn't listen to the remote. It ran straight into my mother's ankles the other day and she got angry at me so I put the remote down to prove I didn't do it, and the car carried on running into her ankles."

"My—"

"Everyone stop a minute," I say loudly.

They all stop. It's good to be a junior sometimes.

"Where did you all get these toys from?"

I have my suspicions.

"Santa," they all chorus in unison.

As I thought. Except they don't know he's not really Santa but is in fact Anti-Claus, and I would think he has got a hold of some possessed toys. No wonder he was giving them away. I can't wait to tell Blizzard about this.

Dad is standing in the main square of the mall when I get there, talking to Blizzard and Santa. They wave brightly when they see me.

"Oh good," Dad says. "I was starting to worry."

"Why?" I ask. "I'm not late."

"No, but there's something a bit funny going on today. I was a bit worried about you walking around by yourself."

"Why?" I ask. I suddenly realise that the mall is almost completely empty. Many of the shops are closed and there were hardly any cars outside. "Where is everyone?" I ask Dad as I look around the scarily empty building.

"It's the strangest thing. Seems there's some sort of blockage on the motorway. The main road has been shut down since this morning, and there's so much black ice on the B road that police have advised not to use it. Except those of us who live within walking distance, no one can get into town. I'm the only security guard here. As of an hour ago, Don had been sitting in his car on the motorway in the traffic jam of the century since nine o'clock this morning."

"Wanna know what the blockage is?" Blizzard asks, and I recognise her 'I know something you don't' grin.

"Sure," I say.

"Snowmen."

"Snowmen?"

Blizzard nods.

"Yes," Dad says. "That's the most sense I could get out of Don. He seems to think that there are snowmen lined up across the motorway and nothing is shifting them. Mad, eh?"

"Er, I guess?"

"I think something's got lost in translation somehow," Dad says. "I don't think he means actual snowmen made of snow. It's probably a nickname for a terrorist group or a herd of cows or something."

Blizzard minutely shakes her head.

I take this to mean that the blockage is actual snowmen made of snow.

"He can't mean actual snowmen," Dad is continuing. "I mean, firstly we haven't had any snow since last week, and secondly the sun is out and it's actually quite toasty for mid-December. Snowmen would have melted by now.

Eventually Dad walks away, still muttering about a group of protesters who might call themselves snowmen.

"I take it that they are actual snowmen," I say to Blizzard as soon as he's gone.

"Yup," Blizzard sounds almost gleeful. "We've worked it out. They're Anti-Claus's snowmen of course, but this is what he does. He's a Santa, so he has elves, just like we do, except our elves are good and spend all their time making presents, and his are bad and are here, controlling fake snowmen and god knows what else."

"So the snowmen are fake then? The ones that have popped up in every garden?"

"Half fake, half real," Santa chimes in. "Funnily enough I've seen the prototype, but not with the intention of being used for evil purposes obviously. Basically the outside of the snowman is real snow, and inside is a hidden cavity where the elf hides. The outer layer of the cavity is kept frozen so the real snow on the outside stays cold and stays put. The elf can then control the snowman from the inside, and from the outside it looks like a real snowman so no one ever suspects a thing."

"I took Rudolph out for a fly," Blizzard says. "Just to see what was really going on. Obviously I couldn't get too close or they'd have seen me, but you should see the motorway. There's literally just a wall of snowmen, it's no wonder the cars aren't going anywhere. There must be at least two hundred snowmen, just lined up in rows."

"Can't they snow plough these snowmen?"

"They're trying from what I could see, but there's only one snow plough in the whole county, and it looks like the snowmen are pretty firmly attached to the ground."

I nod. "Well, I found out something interesting in school today too."

"Oh yeah?"

"So you know all those fabulous toys that Anti-Claus was giving away? Turns out they're all possessed or something. The infants classes in my school were talking about all the harm these toys have been causing. There's a kid with a broken arm, another kid with a skipping rope that tried to strangle her, and one with a Jack in the Box that jumps out of it's own accord. One boy was saying that his remote controlled car started ramming his mother's ankles by itself. Another one said their doll moves in the night. I asked them where they got the toys from and they all said from Anti-Claus."

"Ahh," Santa nods. "I knew there would be a catch. It's just a shame that the children have to suffer for it."

"Didn't your sister get a doll from him too?"

"Oh crikey, yes she did. I wonder if that's behaving itself. Are the elves in the toys too?"

"No," Santa says. "They're ordinary toys with a chip in them. The chip is remote controlled. Somewhere the elves will be gathered controlling the toy by remote."

"So is there anything we can do about it?" I ask.

"I wouldn't think the snowmen on the motorway will stay there long. Elves don't have a very long attention span. No doubt they will get bored and toddle off by morning."

"Are these the snowmen from the gardens?" I ask. "I mean, when we had snow the other night, first thing in the morning all these snowmen popped up in everyone's garden and I was suspicious because there's no way there was time for the people to actually build the snowmen. If I go home now, will the gardens be empty because the snowmen are on the freeway, or are there more snowmen?"

"Probably the same ones. Anti-Claus doesn't have an unlimited supply of elves so he has to make the best use of the ones he does have."

I nod.

"So what else are his evil snowmen likely to do?"

"Well, that's the problem, we don't know until they do it. I guess just keep out of the way of snowmen, Kaity, and if you see a group of them together it might be a good plan to walk very fast in the other direction."

"Oh, you don't need to tell me that," I say.

Dad comes back then. "Just been on the radio," he says. "They're saying that it's actual snowmen blocking the roads. What a complete nightmare. And how have they not got rid of them yet? Who in their right mind would build snowmen in the middle of the motorway for god's sake? What is this country coming to?"

"Probably just kids playing?" Santa says gently.

"In the middle of the night? In the middle of the busiest road this part of the country has?"

"I suppose..."

"I'm thinking of shutting the doors early," Dad says. "There's no one here and no one coming by the looks of it. You two can go home if you want. Kait, you want to go get a McDonalds or something with me?"

"Sure," I say.

Who can say no to that?

"Take care, both of you," Santa says as we all get up to leave.

"Remember what we said about walking in the other direction," Blizzard adds.

"Oh, I will," I say. "They creep me out enough just by standing there. I really have no desire to go up to one."
CHAPTER 29

I'm standing in the kitchen, looking out over the back garden. Daddy's tree looks gorgeous. Pippa and I decorated it by ourselves with tinsel and holly-shaped lights. And contrary to what Mum said, it's not dead yet and still won't be by Christmas.

The strange thing though is Pippa's life-size walking doll, which is tied to the post of the swing by a rope, and currently getting very, very wet in the rain.

"Pips," I say casually, going into the living room. "Pips, what's your doll doing outside?"

Pippa shrugs but keeps her attention riveted on the TV.

"Seriously Pippa, why is it in the garden? I thought you liked it."

Pippa shrugs again but doesn't seem in any hurry to offer an explanation.

"Did Seth put it out there?" I prompt her.

"No," she says finally. "I put it there."

"Why?"

"You've got to promise not to tell Mum. Or Seth. Or anyone. Because they'll think I'm crazy."

"Okay," I say gently. The truth is I already have my suspicions as to what she is going to say. "You have to tell me though, because if Mum sees it out there she's only going to go and bring it back in and be really mad at you for ruining it."

I sit down next to her on the couch.

"I don't like it, Kaity," she says quietly. "It did weird things. You know you saw that bruise on my knee yesterday and I told you I tripped?"

I nod.

"I did trip, but I swear that the doll stuck its leg out as I walked past."

I nod. Given some of the things I've heard in school, this doesn't seem that far-fetched.

"And I think it did things in the night. I put it in the closet when I went to bed, and when I woke up it was sitting in the chair looking at me. And last night, after you'd all gone to sleep, I crept downstairs and shut it in the freezer."

"And this morning Mum yelled at you for leaving it on the stairs," I add, remembering that particular argument from earlier today.

"And that toy car that Seth trod on and got mad about? I think the doll put it there. The toy car wasn't even mine. I don't like cars and I know it wasn't yours, but Seth was convinced we'd put it there on purpose."

"I wouldn't worry too much about what Seth thinks," I say.

"Do you think I've gone crazy?" Pippa asks shyly.

"No, sweetie, but you know that nasty Santa at the mall, the one who gave you the doll? I think he just got a bad batch of toys, faulty ones, and that's why he was giving them away for free. He was just trying to seem nice, but really he was giving toys that don't work properly. Don't feel bad though because I don't think you're the only one complaining."

Pippa nods unhappily.

"We shouldn't leave it out there though, because Mum won't understand and she'll just be mad at you for leaving it outside in all this sleet. I'll go and get it, and we'll stick it in the cupboard under the stairs in the basement and tie it up. That way if it's going to bother anyone it will bother Seth, and you won't have anything to worry about, okay?"

Pippa nods again.

I don't bother getting my coat. I just run outside to get the doll. I notice there are footprints in the path alongside the garden. Seth must have been lurking again. No one else uses that path.

I look into the doll's creepy bottomless eyes as I untie it.

"Creeeeepy," I say to it, as if it was in any doubt. I grab the rope Pippa used to tie it in the first place, and when I get back inside Pippa gives me a wide berth as if the doll is suddenly going to come to life and attack her.

I go downstairs and into the cupboard while Pippa watches warily from the top step.

"Tie it tight," she calls.

So I do. I find a solid water pipe and loop the rope around the doll's waist and feel like I'm tying up a kid instead of a doll because it's so life-like. I tie six knots and loop the rope twice more, before locking the door behind me as I leave.

"There," I dust my hands off. "She'd need a hacksaw to get out of that."

Pippa doesn't look so sure, but when I go up the stairs she flings herself at me and wraps her arms around my waist.

"Thanks, Kaity," she says. "You're the best big sister ever."

"Don't worry about it," I say.

"I thought I was going mad. I thought you'd all be angry at me for being crazy."

"Don't be silly," I say. "It's just a fault with that batch of dolls. We'll get rid of it after Christmas."

Is it wrong of me to secretly hope it will get out and scare Seth for me in the middle of the night? I shall go to bed hoping for screams.
CHAPTER 30

Screams do wake me up in the night, but not Seth's. I'm on my feet before I realise it is Pippa screaming. I'm the first to get to her room, and switch the light on before Mum and Seth come bursting in behind me.

"Pippa, what's wrong?"

"My hair," she whines. "My hair."

We all look, and sure enough, Pippa's long blonde hair is tied around the bedpost. Divided in half at her scalp, tied around the bedpost and finished with a ribbon.

"How on earth have you managed to do this?" Mum asks as she crouches down to untie it.

"I didn't do it," Pippa cries.

"Well, how else did it get done? Kait, you didn't do it, did you?"

"Of course not! I was asleep."

"Pips, you must've done it in your sleep or something. I didn't even know you were this good at knots."

"I didn't do it," Pippa cries. "Ow! It hurts."

I sit down on the bed next to her and try to comfort her while Mum tries to undo it.

"You've done a bloody good job," she mutters under her breath as she struggles with it.

"Shall I get the scissors?" Seth asks from the doorway where he is leaning.

"Don't cut it," Pippa wails. "I'm growing it. Pleeeeease, Mummy, don't cut it."

"I'll try not to," she promises.

"Just cut it off at the scalp," Seth continues. "It'll grow back soon enough."

"Noooooooooo," Pippa screams.

"Why don't you go back to bed, Seth?" I ask in my sweetest voice. "You're not helping."

Mum fixes me with a glare but I don't care. He isn't helping. He's just upsetting Pippa more.

"Yeah, good idea," Seth mutters as he slopes off.

Eventually Mum gets Pippa's hair untied from the bedpost but it's still a tangled mess. Pippa clings on to me where I'm still hugging her, and when Mum says it's time to go back to sleep, she clings even tighter.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" She asks Mum pitifully.

"No, absolutely not."

"I'll stay if you want, Pips," I say instead.

Pippa nods enthusiastically.

"Okay, but no messing around. You both need to get back to sleep. It's a school night."

I nod and Mum leaves.

I crawl into Pippa's bed and get comfy.

"Want to tell me what happened?" I ask after I'm settled and the lights are off again.

"You won't believe me," she says quietly.

"You'd be surprised at the things I've been believing lately, Pips," I tell her. "Try me."

She is quiet for a moment. "I only saw her briefly."

"Saw her? Who?"

"You won't believe me."

"Yes, I will, Pips. I promise."

"The fairy," she mumbles eventually. "It was the fairy off the top of the Christmas tree."

"The one Seth brought in and made us put up?"

She nods. "I woke up and I swear I saw her flying out the door. Then I felt my hair pulled and started screaming."

I think about this for a moment.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"I do believe you," I say. "I promise I do. I was just thinking. It explains a few things."

"Like what?" She asks.

"Like the tree being on its side in the living room one morning, and that writing on the bathroom mirror. I got the blame for those, even though I didn't do it."

"You think the fairy might have done it?"

"Why not? It's obviously some kind of magical fairy. It probably comes to life when there's no one around and does naughty things that we get the blame for. And don't forget that Seth brought it in. Seth is trying to get us in trouble."

"I thought Seth liked us."

"Seth is pretending to like us so Mum will like him. You know you can't trust Seth, don't you?"

She nods.

The next morning, I climb up on the chair in the living room and get the fairy down. I hide it in the sleeve of my jumper, and when I take Harry for his walk, I chuck it into a dustbin on the next street.
CHAPTER 31

It's early morning on December the twenty-fourth, when I'm woken up by a very loud and urgent pounding on the door. I lay still for a moment trying to get my bearings, but Mum yells up the stairs.

"Kaity, it's, er, for you! Can you come down here please?"

I throw myself out of bed and hurry down the stairs even though I'm busting to use the bathroom first. I have no idea who would be knocking for me this early in the morning on Christmas Eve of all days.

I'm very surprised to see Santa standing in the doorway, looking out of breath and worried. And Mum is standing there looking perplexed, like she doesn't quite know why there's a Santa knocking on her door or what she's supposed to do with him.

"Santa?" I ask surprised.

"Oh Kaity, thank god."

"Is everything okay?" I ask worriedly.

"I don't know," he says. "Is Blizzard with you?"

"Blizzard? No, I haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon. Why, is something wrong?" I ask, suddenly very much awake and not so busting anymore either.

"Yes, I think there may very well be something wrong. We accidentally left Rudolph at the mall last night and Blizzard went back to get him but she hasn't come back. I was hoping that maybe she had come here to see you and forgotten to tell me, but if she hasn't then I fear something has happened to her. Oh, why did I let her go out on her own?"

"Okay," Mum says calmly. "Is there anywhere else she would go? Any other friends in the area? Did you have an argument with her? Maybe she's just gone somewhere to get back at you?"

"No," Santa says. "No argument. Everything was fine between us. And I'm fairly certain that Kaity is the only friend she's made. We're not from around here, you see. You don't see her talking to anyone else, do you Kaity?"

I shrug. "I guess not."

"Have you called the police?" Mum asks.

"I was checking here first, but I think I should call them now. I don't know if there is much they can do though."

"Come in," Mum says. "Use our phone. I'll put the kettle on. You sit down and have a think if there's anywhere else she could have gone. You too, Kaity. Go and get dressed and think about anywhere Blizzard might have gone. Anywhere she mentioned wanting to visit?"

"I don't think so," I say.

"But she wouldn't go in the middle of the night," Santa says. "Especially on her own. Oh, it's all my fault. I should never have let her go back to the mall on her own."

"It's not your fault," I say firmly. "And we don't know for sure that anything bad has happened to her. She'll probably come bounding in at any minute with a perfectly logical explanation."

Santa doesn't look too convinced.

I head upstairs to take my pyjamas off and get properly dressed and finally use the bathroom. When I come back down, Santa is on the phone and Mum is setting a cup of tea in front of him.

"How awful," Mum says to me quietly.

By this time, Pippa has come downstairs to see what all the commotion is. Mum takes her into the kitchen and tries to explain what's happening to her.

"Well, that was useless," Santa says to me, hanging up the phone and taking a big gulp of his tea. "They said kids her age run off all the time, and there are no suspicious circumstances. If she isn't back within twenty-four hours they'll send someone out. Christmas will be over by then and no one will have their presents. Blizzard will be devastated if we don't find her."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't drive the sleigh without her on Christmas Eve. Blizzard is my navigator, Kaity. Without her, the magic won't work and the sleigh won't fly around the world. If we don't find her then we can't deliver the Christmas presents tonight. My elves will have worked the whole year for nothing."

"Stop," I say. "We'll find her, okay? Blizzard is... look, she knows what Christmas Eve means, right? She wouldn't have just left, so I think we have to face the fact that something has happened to her."

"Something that has Anti-Claus written all over it."

"You think Anti-Claus has done something to her?"

He nods.

"But why? Doesn't he think you're just a guy dressed in a Santa costume? Unless he's found out who you really are, then what would be the point in kidnapping Blizzard?"

"I fear that Anti-Claus suspects something. Obviously we've made his job a lot harder this year. With your help we've been able to foil a few of his plots and no doubt made him very angry. If he suspects who I am then he would know that he could ruin Christmas once and for all by kidnapping Blizzard."

"What on god's green earth is an Anti-Claus?" Mum asks from the doorway where she is standing with Pippa. "And just who are you really?"

"He's Santa," Pippa shouts excitedly. "I told you, Mum! I told you he was!"

"Pippa, stop this nonsense. There's no such thing as Santa Claus and it's about time you learned that."

Pippa's lip quivers like she's on the verge of tears, but Santa walks over, crouches down in front of her and winks. Pippa instantly smiles. She knows, just like I do.

"Unfortunately, ma'am," Santa stands back up in front of my mother. "Your daughters are right on this one, even though I don't expect you to believe me."

"Where's Seth?" I ask suddenly.

"Working," Mum snaps.

"Working since when?"

"Last night," Mum says.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"To work," she snaps again, but her attention is still focussed on Santa. "Kaity, what's with the bloody twenty questions? This is more interest than you've shown in Seth all month."

"Seth works for Anti-Claus," I tell her. "He's working for the man hell-bent on destroying Christmas, and the man who has probably taken Blizzard."

"What utter nonsense. I don't know where you get this insanity from, but judging by the people you hang around with," she casts a look at Santa. "It's no doubt you get things wrong. Seth works for the boss of a Christmas company. They provide presents to children who don't have much money."

"Unfortunately, Kaity is correct on this one too. Anti-Claus is the other Santa who's been working at the mall this year, but he's not really a Santa. He's a twisted individual who wants to destroy Christmas for the whole world, one town at a time and he's chosen this town this year. Seth is his chauffeur. We've seen him plenty of times bringing deliveries to Anti-Claus. While I'd love to stay and chat about this further, my daughter is missing and I have to find her."

Mum looks shocked but is thankfully speechless for a while.

"Let's go and get Dad," I say suddenly. "He can look at the CCTV tapes from last night. At least that will tell us if Blizzard got to the mall or roughly when she was taken. It might give us some clues."

"Oh Kaity, what a great idea. Let's go immediately."

"Thank you for your tea and kindness," he addresses Mum. "I don't expect you to believe a word I've just told you, but I have to find Blizzard now. Maybe we can talk at a later date. Kaity, please will you come with me? Your help is invaluable here."

"Of course." I'm already grabbing my coat.

"I'll stay here with Pippa for a while," Mum says. "I'll go and get the neighbours out and they can all help to search for her. It may not be the time, but you're very wrong on Seth though. He's a lovely man and he loves Christmas. You must be mistaken."

"Sorry, Mum," I say. "No one's mistaken. Seth is working for evil."

Santa pulls the door open then, and we all gasp in surprise.

Parked on the front lawn is a huge sleigh with three reindeer reined to the front. Real, live, reindeer.

"Well, how do you think I travel?" Santa asks incredulously, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Come on, get in. We don't have time to waste. Do you know how to get to your dad's house?"

Speechless, I nod.
CHAPTER 32

Santa jumps into the sleigh and motions for me to follow him. Even as I do, I realise how insane this is. It's not like the sleigh can really fly or anything, it must just be a—

"Aaaaaah," I scream as we take off. The reindeer gallop down the street and the sleigh lifts smoothly into the air.

"Take the first left," I tell him when we're about ten feet above the ground and rising by the second. I turn back and wave to Mum and Pippa, who are standing in the doorway with their mouths open in shock.

I know the feeling.

"I can't believe I'm flying in Santa's sleigh," I say.

"I'm sorry it's in such bad circumstances," Santa says. "Blizzard actually wanted to bring you for a ride. We were going to come and get you this evening as a surprise. I just didn't expect her to go missing on me."

"We'll find her," I say.

"Which one is your dad's balcony?" Santa asks as his building comes into view.

"That one," I point to it. "Three flats from the top."

"I'll pull up next to it. You hop off and get him, will you?"

"Aren't you worried about people seeing you?"

Santa taps his nose knowingly. "Trust in the magic," he says, and I figure that he must have some kind of shield or invisibility cloak on.

The surprise on Dad's face when he hears knocking from the balcony door is nothing compared to the shock when he sees Santa's sleigh and three reindeer idling in mid air outside.

"Blizzard's gone missing," I say. "There's no time to explain. You have to come with us, we need you to go through the security tapes from last night and see if they picked up anything."

Dad nods mutely.

"Sorry for the surprise, Andrew," Santa says as Dad grabs his keys and coat.

"Is that... safe?" Dad asks eventually.

"Oh yes, quite safe. I fly around the world in it every year. Please get in. We have no time to waste. It is of the utmost importance that we find Blizzard and fast."

I jump from Dad's balcony back into the sleigh and Dad closes the door behind him and follows me.

"This is too mad for words," Dad says as we take off towards the mall.

"Mum and Pippa just saw it too," I say.

"Wow, I bet your mum was happy about that. If your reindeer left hoof marks in the lawn she'll never speak to you again."

The mall isn't far and we land on the roof, out of sight of the public.

"Well, this certainly explains how you've been getting to work every day," Dad says. "You are really Santa, I take it?"

"Yes," Santa says. "And Blizzard is my navigator. Without her the sleigh won't fly around the world tonight and Anti-Claus will have ruined Christmas for everyone."

"Anti-Claus?" Dad asks.

"The other Santa. The one who paid for his spot here. He wants to destroy Christmas for us. Blizzard and Santa came here to stop him. Mum's boyfriend Seth is working for him."

"That's not a surprise," Dad says sarcastically. "I did wonder about him. We've had a few complaints about the toys he was giving out, but well, they were free, what do people expect us to do about it?"

We slide down the rain guttering one at a time and land perfectly on our feet in front of the back door.

Dad laughs. "If Don only knew how right he was. We had a little joke that you came to work in the sleigh and slid down off the roof."

Dad switches off all the burglar alarms and we all file into the eerily silent building. It's always strange being here this early because it's usually such a busy place, and to see it empty is creepy. Dad hits the switch to turn all the lights on, and we file into his office. He sits at the computer screens while Santa and I crowd in behind him. After a while he finds the right place in the tape he needs.

"What time did Blizzard leave the hotel?" Dad asks.

"Ten," Santa says. "Definitely ten."

"Okay so we'll start from there," Dad says as he begins forwarding through the tapes in slow motion. Each screen in front of Dad shows a different area of the mall, a couple of different angles on the same area. There are sixteen screens altogether.

"You two keep an eye on all of these. Here, Santa you keep watching this side and Kaity you keep watching that side. We're unlikely to miss anything then."

Sure enough, once the tape is about twenty minutes in, I spot a blaze of hair crossing the parking lot and we all turn our attention to that screen. The tape is freaky, recorded in stop motion and now going in slow motion too. It's jumpy and hard to follow, but we can easily see Blizzard walk across the parking lot. She's digging her keys out of her pocket and you can clearly see wires going into her ears where she's listening to her Ipod and not concentrating on her surroundings at all. She doesn't even seem to see the black car that she walks around, and when she stops at the door to get her keys out, she doesn't hear or see the looming figure that comes up behind her. The very familiar looming figure that steps up behind her, slips a bag over her head and pulls her backwards into a very familiar black car. A very familiar black limousine.

I knew he was trouble.

"This is the idiot your mum's been dating, I assume?" Dad says and I nod.

"And he works for the guy who's been playing Santa down the west corridor?"

I nod again.

"And they've kidnapped your daughter," he says to Santa.

Santa is staring at the now empty screen, the limo pictured on it having long since zoomed off into the distance with Blizzard in the back.
CHAPTER 33

"What are we going to do?" I ask. "Can't we take this tape to the police?"

"Unfortunately," Santa says slowly. "I don't think this is a matter for the police. This is a personal beef that Anti-Claus has with me. I fear that he knows who I am without a shadow of a doubt. I highly doubt he actually intends to hurt Blizzard at all. His crimes don't seem to involve unnecessary violence, but his goal is to stop Christmas and make everyone as miserable as he is. If he's figured out who I am, then he's figured out that I need Blizzard to deliver the presents. I'm quite sure that he'll return her as right as rain on Boxing Day, but until then he will keep her somewhere so none of us can enjoy our Christmas. The point is that we must find her before this evening or Christmas will be cancelled."

"And who knows what they're doing to her and where they're keeping her," I say. "We have to find her."

"You have to go to the police," Dad says to Santa. "We've just seen her being kidnapped. That's more than a cause for concern."

"But as I said, his intention is not to hurt her, just to stop Christmas. All we need to do is find her before tonight. Then we will turn this tape in to the police and Anti-Claus will be arrested. Sending the police in with guns blazing is more likely to make him hurt Blizzard. Can either of you think of anywhere that they may have taken her? Anti-Claus wouldn't have gone very far, it's not his style. He likes to sit and watch the festive season fall apart around him."

Dad shakes his head but my brain is ticking over.

"I can," I say. "It's just a hunch, but I have an idea. There's an old allotment not far behind our back garden. It's abandoned now, only used by kids sneaking off to make out, but there's a shed there. About three times since he came to stay with us, I've seen Seth coming down the path next to our back garden. I asked him what he was doing and he just said he'd been for a walk, but it's not really a great walking area, it's just a lumpy old field and a ramshackle old shed. I didn't think much of it at the time. It may be somewhere that's worth checking out. It's pretty well hidden by the trees now."

"That's quite a good idea actually, Kait," Dad says. "She's right. It's one of these hidden places that you only know it's there if you know it's there, if you know what I mean? Passers-by wouldn't spot it, just locals who used it in its prime years."

"Well then," Santa says. "We have no time to lose. Back in the sleigh."

"We could walk," Dad says nervously.

"No, no. We'll stop the sleigh well out of sight and then we'll carry on by foot. Can you make a copy of that footage? We'll get the police on it right away."

"Will you make a copy for Mum too?" I ask. "I think she needs to see what kind of person Seth really is."

Dad sets about doing just that.

When he's done we file out of the building and climb a rope ladder that has magically dropped out from the sleigh. I try to sit back and enjoy the ride but I'm too worried about what we might find, and even more worried that my hunch is incorrect and we're no closer to finding Blizzard than we were two hours ago. When we arrive back in our street, Santa parks the sleigh on our flat roof and we all climb back down the ladder.

"Don't worry, no one will see it there," Santa says. "Now let's go and get your mum's help and find my daughter."

We go around and knock on the door to our house, and I briefly wonder how strange we must look—a Santa, a ten-year-old girl and a guy dressed in a security guard outfit—what a sight.

Mum pulls the door open immediately.

"Here," Dad hands her the copy of the security tape that he's burned to DVD. "Watch that and then tell us how perfect your new boyfriend is. And while you're at it, call the police. We've got a pretty good idea of where Blizzard is, but we need backup and someone to arrest Seth and Anti-Claus when we find them."

Mum nods silently and closes the door. Pippa waves to us from the living room window and looks incredibly sad that she doesn't get to join in the fun.

"Is this going to be dangerous?" Dad asks. "Maybe Kaity should stay here. I don't want her getting hurt."

"Don't even think about it," I interject. "I'm coming whether you like it or not. There's no point in arguing about it."

Dad rolls his eyes. "Come on then."

Dad leads us all up the garden path. "Mum didn't like my tree then?" He asks when he sees the tree he bought us sitting in its bucket in the garden.

"Sorry," I say. "Seth brought a different one and she made us take yours outside. Pippa and I wouldn't let her throw it away though so we brought it out here and decorated it."

"That's very sweet of you, Kaity," Dad says. His voice is thick with emotion and I can tell that it means something to him.
CHAPTER 34

"Here we are," Dad says when we reach a hedge. "This leads into the old allotment. We should hang back and see what we can find out first. Just stay quiet for a moment, see if there's any signs that they're here."

We do just that.

"See the tire marks on the field?" Dad whispers. "That looks like a car has been here recently."

"Like that black limo supposedly hidden in those trees over there?" Santa asks and we follow his gaze to the far end of the abandoned allotment to a patch of trees and overgrown grass. Sure enough, in the middle you can see the sun reflecting off the back of a car. Definitely the limo.

We're crouching down in the bushes, waiting for signs of life—for any sign that they're here. Then we see a flash of red hair through the window towards the back of the shed. Blizzard's red hair.

"It could be a trap," Dad says when Santa gets overexcited.

"I have an idea," I say. "I'll go around the back while you two distract Seth and Anti-Claus. If you go to the front and call them out, I'll sneak in the back and get Blizzard out. Then hopefully the police will come and arrest them both."

"I don't know..." Dad says. "This sounds too dangerous. We should just wait for the police."

"If we wait for the police it becomes a hostage situation," Santa says. "I know you don't want to put Kaity in danger but it could be our only option."

"I'll be careful," I add. "I won't go in until I'm sure they're both out here."

Dad sighs reluctantly but agrees.

I grab a tree branch and use it as camouflage to sneak around outside the hedge. I stop behind a hill at the back of the building. I have a clear view of the back door to the shed but I'm confident the people inside can't see me. I wait for Dad and Santa's cue.

Soon enough, Santa strides up to the shed door and bangs hard enough to shake the shed itself. Then he walks backwards, obviously intending for Anti-Claus and Seth to follow him out, giving me space to get in and rescue Blizzard. It works better than I thought it would, as Anti-Claus himself throws the door open and stalks out, Seth standing mute behind him like a bodyguard.

Dad stands up then too. "We know you have her," he says. He's staying where he is so they have to come to him. "Let's negotiate," Dad continues.

This is my cue. Seth and Anti-Claus are far enough out of the shed that I can get in without being seen. I take my tree branch with me just in case I need a weapon, and I have Dad's pocket knife in my pocket to cut through the ropes if they've got Blizzard tied up.

I slip through the door. Blizzard is in a chair, a gag around her mouth, her arms tied behind her back and her legs tied to the chair legs. I'm relieved to see she's not hurt.

Her eyes light up when she sees me and I'm glad to know she didn't know I was there, because if she didn't see me then chances are Anti-Claus and Seth didn't either.

"Are you okay?" I whisper as quietly as possible.

She nods frantically as I crouch down and begin cutting through the ropes with the pocket knife.

It's a tough job and almost the moment I cut through the final rope, we hear a round of yelling outside.

"Seth's coming back," Blizzard says quickly peering through a hole in the wood. "Quick, go!"

But we don't have time as he slams his way through the door. We press ourselves up against the wall. I'm holding my tree branch up and as Seth comes in, I aim it at his head and whack him hard. He shouts in surprise and falls to the floor clutching his head and I throw the branch at him. Blizzard and I run.

"That was unnecessary," she pants as we reach safety behind the hill.

"He had it coming," I mutter.

Sirens screech in the distance, gradually getting closer as we wait.

"Girls, it's safe to come out now," I hear Santa yelling for us once the sirens have stopped, and when we peer over the hill, we see that the police are there. Anti-Claus is being held over the bonnet of the police car, already in handcuffs and being searched for weapons. Two more officers are dragging a handcuffed Seth out of the shed.

"Daddy!" Blizzard runs to him and flings her arms around his waist.

"Hi sweetheart," he says, picking her up and twirling her.

"I was so scared we weren't going to make it in time for tonight," she says.

"It's Kaity you have to thank," Santa says as my dad walks over to join us.

A few neighbours have come out to see what is going on. Police cars are not a common sight around here. The neighbours wouldn't want to miss the gossip of the century. Mum and Pippa are there too and I give them a small wave. I can't help but wonder if Mum watched the DVD yet. I assume she has, and I watch in fascination as she purposefully avoids looking at the car where Seth is being searched.
CHAPTER 35

Things go a bit mad from there on in. Er, madder even. Like things haven't been mad around here since the moment I met Blizzard and Santa. The police interview us all. Obviously Santa doesn't tell them he's the real Santa, and they assume that he's just a shopping mall Santa and that Anti-Claus is just another shopping mall Santa and that their competition for business got out of hand. It's not actually that far from the truth, just editing out the part where Santa is really Santa and Anti-Claus is out to ruin Christmas.

Eventually everything dies down, the police cars drive away with Seth and Anti-Claus firmly in the back of them, and thankfully, no one has spotted Santa's sleigh up on our roof.

Pippa comes running over and gives first me, then Blizzard, then Dad and then Santa a huge hug.

"Glad to see you're safe, Blizzard," Mum says quietly as she comes over too. The six of us are standing in a big group in the allotment. It's almost dusk by now and all of the neighbours have gone in to light their Christmas lights and there's a bit of sparkle in the night again.

"I think I owe you all an apology," Mum says. "You all warned me off Seth, you all told me I was in over my head and he could be a maniac or worse, and it turns out that he was." She gives an insane little giggle. "That'll teach me to think I know best, won't it?"

"Don't blame yourself," Santa says. "Anti-Claus and Seth would have been here anyway. Whether Seth had been staying with you or somewhere else the same things would have happened today."

Mum doesn't look like she believes him. Maybe it's a horrible thing to admit, but I'm almost glad. So she should feel a little bit of guilt. She made her own children live with a kidnapper, all because she couldn't see past the googley eyes she had for him.

"I'm just glad to know that you're safe, Blizzard, and that no one was really hurt. It could have been a lot worse," Mum says.

"Oh, I think Seth was quite hurt," Blizzard says almost gleefully. "Kaity gave him a pretty good whack with that half a tree."

"He totally deserved it," I say.

"We have a lot to thank Kaity for today," Santa says. "Without her instincts, her knowledge, and attention to detail, we would never have found you. I think it's safe to say that Kaity saved Christmas this year."

I blush from my toes to my forehead.

Pippa pulls on my sleeve. "What about the doll? You know, in the basement?"

"What?" Mum asks.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, girls. It is completely harmless now that Anti-Claus has gone. All the toys were controlled by him, so you have nothing to worry about."

"I don't want it anymore," Pippa says.

"Perhaps you could ask your mum to donate it to a charity shop," Santa suggests.

Mum nods even though she doesn't yet know that there is a life-size doll tied up in the basement.

"I wish we didn't have to go," Blizzard says. "I like it here."

"Well, we can come back for a visit. If they'll have us, that is," Santa jokes.

That's when it hits me that they're leaving. In only a month, I've gotten so used to Blizzard and Santa being around, gotten so used to Blizzard being my friend that I've only just realised that she won't always be here.

The thought makes uninvited tears prickle my eyelids.

I look over at Blizzard and she looks equally down.

"Don't look so upset, girls. You can keep in touch," Dad says. "You can write and email and call. And Blizzard is more than welcome to come down in the school holidays."

"You know, we could even find room for all of you to come and visit us in the North Pole if you want to," Santa says.

Blizzard's eyes light up. "Really?" She asks. "I thought outsiders weren't allowed in the North Pole?"

"After today, they're not outsiders, they're as good as family."

I go over and hug Santa. And I do not spontaneously hug people. "I can't think of anything nicer than a trip to the North Pole," I tell him.

Mum is standing next to Dad now.

"You're still coming for dinner tomorrow?" She asks him quietly.

"If you'll still have me, I'd love to," he says. "As long as Kaity is still up to cooking?"

"Of course," I say. "I can't wait."

Suddenly Pippa's eyes light up as she spots the sleigh hiding on the roof.

"I want to go in Santa's sleigh like Kaity did," Pippa whines.

Santa smiles down at her softly. "Well, we do have to zoom up to the North Pole pretty soon to collect the Christmas presents," he says. "But I think we have time to take you all for a quick spin. It is Christmas Eve after all."

He whistles and the reindeer launch themselves from the roof and bring the sleigh to rest directly in front of us. We all climb in—Santa, Blizzard, me, Pippa, Mum and Dad. Pippa screams in delight as the sleigh lifts into the air, and we finally feel like a family again.

Maybe there is something to be said for the magic of Christmas after all.

\- ** – The End – ** -

Also by Jaimie Admans:

North Pole Reform School

Mistletoe Bell hates Christmas. So would you if you had a name like hers. Her Christmas-mad parents make the festive season last all year, and with another Christmas looming, Mis doesn't think she can take any more. After her carelessness causes an accident at school, it seems like things can't get any worse.

Then she wakes up to find The Ghost of Christmases Ruined in her bedroom.

She is taken to the North Pole, to a reform school run by elves determined to make her love Christmas. Stuck in a misfit group of fellow Christmas-haters with a motley crew of the weird and even weirder, watched over by elves day and night, she doesn't expect to meet cute and funny Luke, who is hiding a vulnerable side beneath his sarcastic exterior. She doesn't expect to fall in love with him.

But all is not as it should be at the North Pole. A certain Mr Claus is making the elves' lives a misery, and pretty soon Mistletoe and Luke are doing more than just learning to like Christmas.

A YA romantic comedy in which Santa is the bad guy, teaching reindeer to fly is on the curriculum, and zombies have a fondness for Christmas music.

\-- -- -- \--

Suitable for older teens and upwards due to bad language.

Not Pretty Enough

"New Year's Resolutions:

**1.** Lloyd Layton will know I exist. He once said three whole words to me, so this is obviously progress. If I don't get a proper conversation out of him soon, then I'll take my top off and streak through the cafeteria, because _nobody_ could fail to notice these boobs.

**2.** I will not get expelled for streaking through the cafeteria."

Those are the words that begin her mission.

Chessie is fourteen, not pretty enough, and very much in love. Lloyd Layton is hot, popular, and unaware of Chessie's existence.

Her goal is clear: to get Lloyd to love her as much as she loves him, and she has exactly one year to do it.

As Chessie's obsession with Lloyd reaches boiling point and she starts to spin a web of lies that spiral out of control, Lloyd turns out to be not quite the prince she thought he was. Can Chessie avoid the gathering storm before things go too far?

\-- -- -- -- \--

Not Pretty Enough is a contemporary young adult comedy suitable for ages thirteen and over.

Book two in the series will be released early 2014.

Afterlife Academy

Even being dead isn't enough to get you out of maths class.

Dying wasn't on sixteen-year-old Riley Richardson's to-do list. And now, not only is she dead, but she's stuck in a perpetual high school nightmare. Worse still, she's stuck there with the geekiest, most annoying boy in the history of the world, ever.

In a school where the geeks are popular and just about everything is wrong, Riley has become an outcast. She begins a desperate quest to get back home, but her once-perfect life starts to unravel into something not nearly as great as she thought it was. And maybe death isn't really that bad after all...

Welcome to Afterlife Academy, where horns are the norm, the microwave is more intelligent than the teachers, and the pumpkins have a taste for blood.

\- - -

Afterlife Academy is a Young Adult paranormal romantic comedy, suitable for approximately ages 14 and up.

Kismetology

Finding the perfect man isn't easy. Especially when it's for your mother...

Mothers. Can't live with them, can't live without them, can't live three doors down the road without them interfering in every aspect of your life.

Mackenzie Atkinson's mother has meddled in her love life once too often and something has to be done. Mackenzie decides to turn the tables and find love for her lonely mother.

Her lonely and very fussy mother.

Surely finding an older gentleman looking for love won't be that hard, right?

Wrong.

If you've ever thought that boys grow up, here's the problem: They don't. Ever.

And Mackenzie is about to learn that the hard way.

Faced with a useless boyfriend, dressed up dogs, men who wear welly boots on dates, men who shouldn't be allowed out in public, and men who make reptiles seem like attractive company - will she ever find the perfect man for her neurotic mother?
About the author:

Jaimie is a 29-year-old English-sounding Welsh girl with an awkward-to-spell name. She lives in South Wales and enjoys writing, gardening, drinking tea and watching horror movies. She hates spiders and cheese & onion crisps.

She has been writing for years but has never before plucked up the courage to tell people.

Creepy Christmas is her second novel and she hopes you enjoyed it. There are plenty more on the way!

Website: http://www.jaimieadmans.com

Twitter: <http://www.twitter.com/be_the_spark>

Facebook: <http://www.facebook.com/jaimieadmansbooks>

Goodreads: <http://www.goodreads.com/jaimieadmans>

Pinterest: <http://www.pinterest.com/notprettyenough>

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