Christmas Fairy (5 page)

Chapter Seven

‘I’ve got something for you,’ said Lindsay.

Twink looked up. It was the next afternoon, and she was sitting perched on the doll’s house chimney, trying not to feel sorry for herself.

‘What?’ she asked, managing a smile.

Lindsay drew a hand out from behind her back. ‘Ta-da!’ she said.

Twink’s eyes widened. Lindsay was holding out a slim, gaily-wrapped package half as tall as Twink, decorated with a gleaming golden bow.

‘What is it?’ she asked in wonder.

‘A Christmas present, silly!’ Lindsay giggled. ‘I know today’s only Christmas Eve – but – oh, Twink, just open it!’

Maybe it was something to help her get home! Leaping to her feet, Twink held out both hands as Lindsay gave her the package – and then stared blankly at its clear, sticky fastening.

‘Here, I’ll do it!’ cried Lindsay. She tore open the package as Twink fluttered beside her, craning to see. ‘There!’ said the girl with a triumphant grin.

Twink’s spirits fell. It was only a comb – a tiny white one, made of that material called ‘plastic’ humans were so fond of. She smiled weakly. ‘Lindsay, thank you! Where did you get it?’

‘It’s for one of my dolls,’ explained Lindsay. ‘I just found it again this morning. Here, try it!’

Though much too small for a human, Twink still had to use both hands to draw the comb through her long pink hair. Even so, it felt lovely to groom it – she had been feeling as scruffy as an old crow.

‘Thanks, Lindsay,’ she said again, meaning it this time. ‘It was really nice of you to think of me.’

Lindsay sat cross-legged on the carpet as she watched Twink comb her hair. ‘I just wish I could help you get home again,’ she sighed. ‘Oh, it’s not fair. Wishes should always come true at Christmas!’

‘They should?’ Twink looked up with interest. This was an aspect of Christmas that she hadn’t heard about.

Lindsay nodded. ‘Yes, of course! Why, whenever Santa comes, he –’ Suddenly she stopped, her hands flying up to her mouth. ‘Twink, that’s it! Santa!’

‘Who’s Santa?’ asked Twink.

Lindsay’s green-brown eyes grew wide. ‘Santa Claus! Don’t you know? He’s the spirit of Christmas!’

Wonder tickled across Twink’s wings. ‘He is?’

‘Yes!’ exclaimed Lindsay. ‘Santa can do
anything
. All you have to do is wait up tonight and ask him to take you home again, and he’ll do it, I know he will!’

Twink gaped at her. ‘You mean he’s coming
here
?’

Lindsay’s words tumbled over each other as she explained about the red-suited, white-bearded man called Santa – also known as Father Christmas – who travelled to every human’s house on Christmas Eve, delivering presents to all the children.

‘
Flying reindeer?
’ Twink felt as if her eyes might pop out of her head. She had never imagined such powerful magic!

Lindsay nodded vehemently. ‘Yes, and the one who flies at the head of the sleigh is called Rudolph, and he has a red nose . . . though that bit might just be a story.’ She made a face. ‘My friend Sarah says it’s
all
a story, but she’s wrong. Santa comes every year, he really does!’

Hope fizzed through Twink like sparkling dew. ‘But Lindsay, why haven’t we fairies ever heard of Santa Claus?’ she asked.

Lindsay shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s just for humans. But Twink, I’m
sure
he’ll help you as well – he’s ever so kind!’

Twink spent the rest of the day in an agony of anticipation. Wouldn’t night-time
ever
come? The minute hand on Lindsay’s clock was creeping as slowly as a snail!

But at last it arrived. After Lindsay’s mother had said goodnight and closed her daughter’s door, Twink flitted across the room and hovered near Lindsay’s pillow. ‘I’m going to sneak downstairs now,’ she whispered.

She rubbed cold hands against her skirt. It frightened her to go downstairs when Lindsay’s parents were still awake, but she didn’t dare wait. What if Santa came and she missed him?

‘I wish I could come with you,’ Lindsay whispered back, propping herself up on one elbow. ‘Oh, Twink, good luck! I really hope Santa takes you home.’

Twink sat hidden in the Christmas tree, tapping her wings together nervously. When would Santa come? And what on earth would she say to him when he did?

Lindsay’s parents were sitting on one of the sofas, staring at a large box in the corner. Though Twink had kept carefully out of view as she sneaked through the room, she soon realised that she could have flown straight past them, singing and doing barrel rolls. They were far too entranced by the box to notice anything else!

Twink gazed in wonder at the box’s moving pictures. Was it magic or something else? She had never seen anything like it! The figures in the box moved and spoke so fast that it made her dizzy.

Finally Lindsay’s father stirred. ‘Is it time for Santa yet?’

Twink jerked upright. It was really true, then! If even Lindsay’s parents believed, then there
must
be such a being!

Lindsay’s mother glanced towards the stairs.

‘Lindsay might still be awake,’ she said.

Lindsay’s father stretched out his legs. ‘Well, Santa can’t come if little girls are still awake, can he?’ The two of them fell into silence again, so that the only sound was the box.

Twink’s heart galloped. Santa must be on his way right now! All she had to do was wait.

The story on the box ended, and another one began. Despite herself, Twink’s anticipation turned to yawns. She’d hardly got any sleep the night before, when she’d stayed up so late trying to contact Bimi, and now her eyelids felt as heavy as boulders.

Stifling another yawn, Twink nestled against the prickly branch and tucked her wings against her back. She wouldn’t go to sleep, she promised herself drowsily. Not without meeting Santa. She wouldn’t . . . she wouldn’t . . .

‘Look at me!’ demanded a voice. Twink awoke with a gasp. The fairy decoration was hovering in front of her, beating her sparkly green wings.

‘You’re real!’ exclaimed Twink, sitting up. ‘But – but how –’

‘Santa did it.’ The fairy laughed, kicking her feet in the air. ‘Santa can do anything!’ she called as she skimmed away.

‘Wait!’ cried Twink. She started to fly from the tree, and then fell back with a yelp as a sudden blaze of light burst through the room. A tall figure in flowing red robes appeared.

Santa had arrived.

Twink cowered against her branch. The spirit of Christmas wasn’t at all like Lindsay had described. He was almost as tall as the ceiling! His long white beard looked wild and woodsy, with a jaunty holly bow and – Twink blinked in amazement – a pair of robins nesting in it!

Santa strode forward, his red robes swirling about his feet. A hush seemed to fall as he stooped beside the tree, placing presents under it. Twink watched in a daze. All thoughts of talking to him had vanished.

As Santa rose, he caught sight of Twink and smiled. ‘Hello, little fairy,’ he said gently. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll see your family again – that’s my Christmas promise to you! Now, hop on to my hand and I’ll take you home.’

Joy burst through Twink. She leapt towards Santa’s outstretched hand – and then suddenly she was flying through her old familiar meadow, enjoying the winter chill on her wings.

She was really back! There were trees, and grass, and open spaces. With a shout of delight, Twink did a midair somersault, and then sped towards her family’s tree stump. How excited everyone would be to see her!

Twink smiled in her sleep. Home . . . everyone was so happy . . . but something was wrong. What was it?

Sleepily, she opened her eyes – and then jolted wide awake. The room was dark! Lindsay’s parents were gone. Only the soft sound of Clarence’s snores filled the air. Beside her, Twink could just make out the little fairy – a dangling decoration once more.

It was only a dream! Twink slumped against the branch as disappointment crashed through her.

But . . . maybe Santa hadn’t come yet. Surely her dream meant that he
would
come and save her. Twink dived from the tree and plunged downwards to the little box that controlled the lights.

Click!
The tree burst into sparkles as she landed on the switch. Twink held her breath, looking around her. And then she saw it, and her wings drooped in dismay.

A new pile of brightly wrapped presents was clustered under the tree. Dejectedly, Twink flew from one to the other, peering at the cards. They all said exactly what she’d known they’d say:
To Lindsay,
with love from Santa Claus.

Santa had already come and gone.

Twink sank on to the large golden bow of the last present, fighting tears. Oh,
how
could she have been so stupid as to fall asleep? This had been her last chance!

And now she was too late.

Chapter Eight

‘Mum! Dad! I love it!’ A pile of crumpled wrapping paper lay beside Lindsay, revealing a pink satin jewellery box.

‘Look inside,’ said her father, smiling.

Tired and sad as she was, Twink felt a tremor of excitement as Lindsay opened the lid, craning to see from her hiding place in Clarence’s wicker basket. It smelled strongly of dog, but apart from that was surprisingly cosy – especially since Clarence seemed very protective of Twink now, and insisted on cradling her with the curve of his tail!

The little girl squealed with delight as she held up a tiny golden locket. ‘Mum, Dad, thank you!’ she cried, launching herself at her parents for a hug.

A warm glow filled Twink as she watched. Lindsay had said that Christmas wasn’t supposed to be about presents, and she was right. It was about
family
– and that was something that both fairies and humans could understand.

Twink sighed and stroked Clarence’s soft black fur. Oh, how she wished that she could see her own family again! But Santa’s Christmas promise had only been a dream. What would her friends at Glitterwings Academy think when the new term started and she wasn’t there? They’d all be so worried!

Lindsay had been very sympathetic when she’d woken that morning and realised that Twink was still trapped. The little girl had brought Twink a small piece of something called ‘toast’ with honey on it.

‘I’m sort of glad that you’re still here for Christmas, though,’ she’d confessed as Twink ate. ‘Oh, Twink, you have to come downstairs and see! Mum and Dad are up; it’s almost time to open our presents!’

Twink had shrugged, wiping honey off her mouth. ‘I suppose so,’ she said glumly. Frankly, she thought she’d had enough of Christmas to last her a lifetime. It had already got her into more trouble than she’d ever dreamed of!

But Lindsay seemed so eager that Twink didn’t have the heart to refuse. So the little girl had sneaked Twink downstairs in the pocket of her dressing gown, and tucked her securely into Clarence’s basket when her parents weren’t looking.

And now Twink couldn’t take her eyes off what was happening! Lindsay had been right. Christmas
was
magic. The family’s love for each other, and the beauty of the tree, and the excitement of the presents – it all came together to make a spell as magical as anything the fairies had ever done.

When the presents were all unwrapped, Lindsay’s mother brought out biscuits and hot chocolate. ‘Isn’t this nice?’ she said, stretching out on the floor. ‘We should do this more often.’

‘Hey, why not? We could have Christmas twice a year!’ laughed Lindsay’s dad. ‘Let’s do it again in June, with all the trimmings.’

‘No!’ said Lindsay in alarm. ‘We can’t cut down
more
trees.’

Her father groaned, scraping his hair back. ‘Oh, here we go again. Lindsay, love, I was only joking.’

‘It’s true, though,’ said Lindsay stubbornly. She put down her biscuit. ‘We
shouldn’t
have cut down the tree. It has dryads and things living it, and – and feelings, and –’

‘That’s it!’ said Lindsay’s father, standing up. ‘It’s time!’ He strode from the room.

Lindsay looked stricken. Her mother patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry – there’s a surprise for you!’

A surprise? Twink stretched her neck to see. There was the sound of the back door closing, and then Lindsay’s father came back into the room. Twink gasped. He was holding a
tree
! He really was – a baby spruce tree, in a bright green pot that had a red bow tied around it.

‘Merry Christmas, my little eco-warrior,’ he laughed, handing the tiny tree to Lindsay. ‘Am I forgiven now for chopping down the tree?’

‘Oh,
Dad
,’ whispered Lindsay. A huge smile spread across her face as she touched one of the tree’s bristly branches. ‘I love it. It’s my favourite present of all!’ She flung herself at her father, hugging him around his middle.

Lindsay’s mother beamed. ‘We thought we’d all go to Uncle Matt’s farm this spring and plant it – to make up for the other one, since you seem so worried about it!’

Uncle Matt’s farm!
That was where home was! Twink froze as hope tingled through her.

‘Oh! Can’t we go now?’ screeched Lindsay. She jumped up and down, tugging at her father’s arms. ‘Please, please! We need to go
now
, we really do!’

‘
Lind-
say,’ groaned her father. ‘For one thing, it’s not the right time of year to plant trees, and for another it’s Christmas Day and I’ve no intention of driving all the way out there –’

‘Oh, please! It’s so important!’ Lindsay whirled towards her mum. ‘
Can
we, Mum? Please?’

‘
Now?
’ Lindsay’s mother shook her head. ‘Oh, Lindsay –’

‘
Please
,’ begged Lindsay again, clasping her hands under her chin. She turned from one parent to the other. ‘Please! It’s all I want!’

There was a pause as her mother and father looked at each other. In the basket, Twink hardly dared to move. Even Clarence seemed to be holding his breath.

‘I suppose we really should have seen this coming,’ said Lindsay’s father, rolling his eyes. ‘Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, Karen?’

Lindsay’s mother sighed, and shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘Well . . . the turkey’s in the oven, so we have a few hours before anything else needs doing. And the traffic won’t be too bad, at least.’

‘No, because everyone who’s sensible will be staying at home, enjoying Christmas!’ grumbled Lindsay’s father. ‘OK, kiddo, you’ve got your wish,’ he said as Lindsay burst into squeals of delight. ‘I’ll ring Matt and let him know we’re coming.’

‘Oh! I’m going home!’ burst out Twink in a joyous whisper, hugging Clarence’s tail. Its furry tip thumped as Clarence gave a soft, friendly
woof
.

And on the Christmas tree, the fairy decoration seemed to smile.

Twink spent her second car journey tucked in Lindsay’s soft, fleecy pocket. The strange motion of the car made her feel just as ill as before, but this time she was too excited to care. She was going home! She was really going to see her family again, just as Santa had promised!

Finally the vehicle stopped, and she felt Lindsay get out of the car. There were crunching footsteps as the family headed into the woods.

Twink’s heart raced. She could smell the evergreens, and the sharp tang of snow! It was all she could do not to dart out of Lindsay’s pocket and fly home that very moment – but of course she had to say goodbye to Lindsay before she left.

Twink felt a pang at the thought of it. She would never have imagined that she could be friends with a human . . . but that’s exactly what she and Lindsay had become. Still – still, maybe they could see each other again, somehow.

The footsteps stopped. ‘Well, here’s the scene of the crime,’ said Lindsay’s father.

‘Lindsay, shall we plant the new tree here, beside where the old one was cut down?’ asked her mother brightly.

‘Yes, please,’ said Lindsay in a small voice. Twink realised that she was feeling sad, too, and her own heart ached. How was it possible to be so happy and so miserable at the same time?

The sound of digging began. ‘Oof! The ground’s hard as a rock,’ said Lindsay’s father. ‘Karen, can you clear away that stone for me?’

Just when Twink was starting to fidget with impatience, there was a rush of fresh air as Lindsay’s pocket opened. The little girl peeked inside, her cheeks pink with the cold. ‘We’re here,’ she whispered.

‘I – I know,’ said Twink.

She flew out of Lindsay’s pocket and hovered in front of the girl. They were in a snowy forest glade, and Twink’s spirits leapt as she recognised it. Her home was only a few minutes’ flight away!

Lindsay’s parents were both busy digging the hole, their backs to Lindsay. Twink cleared her throat. ‘Well . . . I suppose it’s time for me to go.’

‘Oh, I wish you didn’t have to!’ cried Lindsay. Her brown-green eyes shone with tears. ‘I’m really going to miss you, Twink.’

‘What was that, sweetie?’ asked Lindsay’s mother, looking over her shoulder. Her jaw dropped as she caught sight of Twink. ‘Tom!’ she gasped, grabbing her husband’s arm. ‘It’s that moth again!’

Lindsay’s father turned and stared at Twink in disbelief. ‘It can’t be! It must be some other moth.’

‘It’s not a moth at all!’ burst out Lindsay. ‘She’s a
fairy –
can’t you see?’

Her mother laughed uncertainly. ‘Lindsay, don’t be silly. There’s no such thing.’

‘There
is
,’ insisted Lindsay. Her face flushed bright red. ‘She’s lived in my doll’s house for over a week now, and you didn’t even know! That’s why we had to come here, to bring her home again.’

‘But – but it
can’t
be . . .’ Lindsay’s father trailed off as he gaped at Twink.

‘Oh my goodness,’ murmured Lindsay’s mother, her eyes wide. ‘Tom, I know it’s mad, but . . . I really think it
is
one.’

As if in a dream, both parents drew slowly forward. Twink bobbed in the air, ready to dart away at the first sign of moth-swatting.

But when Lindsay’s parents were stood beside their daughter, they simply stared at Twink, their eyes round as oranges. Twink licked her lips, looking back at them. They didn’t have to stare
quite
so hard, did they? She felt like one of the animals in Mr Woodleaf’s Creature Kindness class!

Suddenly Lindsay fumbled in her other pocket. ‘Oh, I almost forgot! Here’s your comb, Twink – and I’ve got something else for you, as well.’ She held out the comb, along with a tiny package. ‘Don’t open it until later,’ she said. ‘It’s a surprise.’

Twink took the items, cradling them in her arms. ‘Thank you, Lindsay,’ she said softly. ‘I – I’ll never forget you.’

‘I’ll never forget you either,’ choked out Lindsay. She swiped at her eyes. ‘Oh, I don’t mean to cry! I’m happy that you’re going home, Twink, I really am.’

‘I know,’ said Twink. She flitted upwards and gently brushed a wing against Lindsay’s damp cheek. ‘Thanks for everything, Lindsay. I hope we’ll get to see each other again some day.’

Lindsay caught her breath. ‘Maybe we could!’ She whirled towards her parents. ‘Mum, Dad, we could come back, couldn’t we? Sometime when Twink is home, visiting her parents?’

‘Her . . . parents?’ mumbled Lindsay’s father. He swallowed hard. ‘Do – do fairies really have . . . ?’

‘Well, of course!’ said Lindsay in exasperation. ‘Mum, can we?
Please?
’

‘Yes – yes, we’ll come back,’ murmured Lindsay’s mother with a soft smile. ‘I mean – we’d be honoured to meet your parents,’ she added to Twink. She put an arm around her husband. ‘Wouldn’t we, dear?’

Lindsay’s father nodded dazedly. ‘Yes, we would.’

A sunny glow spread through Twink as she and the adult humans regarded each other. ‘Thank you,’ she said shyly. ‘I’m sure they’d like to meet you, too.’

‘Hurrah!’ cried Lindsay, bouncing on her toes. ‘Have a great time when you get back to school, Twink – send me a butterfly!’

‘I will,’ grinned Twink. So far as she knew, the school butterflies had never delivered a message to a human before – but there was no reason why they couldn’t!

Waving over her shoulder, Twink skimmed off across the glade. The last glimpse she had of Lindsay was the little girl jumping up and down, waving back as hard as she could. But her parents simply stood with their arms around each other, staring after Twink in wonder.

‘Mum, Dad, I’m home!’ shouted Twink, bursting into the stump. ‘Teena! Bimi! I’m here!’

Her words rang emptily through the house. Twink hovered, holding the plastic comb and Lindsay’s package to her chest. ‘Mum? Dad?’ she called again.

Where
was
everyone? Dropping her things on the mushroom table, Twink flitted through the rooms – her comfy bedroom with its rose-petal bedcover, her parents’ room, the cosy kitchen.

But the stump was empty.

Disappointment trembled through her. Twink slumped into the mossy armchair, fighting tears. What
now
? She had been longing so much to see her family again – it had never occurred to her that they wouldn’t be here!

Wiping her eyes, Twink glanced morosely around the stump – and spotted a petal on the table. Leaping across the room, she snatched it up.