The Girl Who Saved Christmas. Matt Haig

sack. And there will be a whole world of hope. Every human child in the world will be filled with joy and excitement today. Later, when you look at the sky you will see the hope glowing in the air. The Northern Lights will be shining brighter than ever before.’

      ‘Not to be a party pooper,’ said Mother Breer, the beltmaker, ‘but if that was the case then none of this would have happened in the first place.’

      Father Christmas felt the paper in his pocket. The letter he’d got from Amelia Wishart. Amelia had been the first child he’d ever given presents to. He looked at Father Topo, who reached up and put his hand on Father Christmas’s back. Or tried to. He could only really reach his bottom, which was a bit awkward.

      ‘Come on, elves,’ said Father Christmas. ‘You are elves. We’ve at least got to try. The humans need us. Now, any questions?’

      Little Mim put up his hand.

      ‘Yes, Little Mim,’ said Father Christmas. ‘Fire away.’

      ‘Can you spickle dance?’ asked Little Mim. A few elves laughed. It was nice to think of spickle dancing on such an otherwise miserable day.

      ‘Spickle dance? Erm, well . . .’

      ‘I’ve never seen you spickle dance,’ the little elf went on.

      ‘Little Mim,’ whispered Noosh. ‘I don’t think this is the time for such a question.’

      ‘Little Mim, I am not an elf. Look at me. Look how tall I am. Look at my big belly. I mean, yes, I was drimwicked, but I still think spickle dancing is best left to elves.’

      Little Mim looked sad. His smile faded. Even his pointy ears seemed to droop a little.

      ‘Spickle dancing is for everyone,’ chirped Little Mim. ‘That is the point of spickle dancing.’