Before I could doubt myself, I rubbed the number out. All traces removed. Decision made.

This Jingle Lady was ready to sort Grampy’s Grotto and survive Christmas.

CHAPTER

8

TO DO:

•Pack the green paint!

•Village hall form

•Check red/white socks have dried

•Order Jingle Lady Christmas card

•Remember to tell Bil the cracker joke: Why does a pony make a terrible carol singer? Because it’s a little horse.

•Start geography assignment

Outside the Portakabin window, a crowd screamed. Huge searchlights swivelled over their heads as a heap of fake snow emptied down on them. Any other time of the year having a load of freezing sludge-water poured on you would be a criminal offence, but in winter … they were actually chanting ‘More!’, waving homemade posters, chanting Joseph and Maeve’s names and filming every last second.

I leant forward in my spinny chair and looked in the mirror.

Was I really doing this?

“Don’t forget to smile.” Tess was loving every second. She flicked out my pointy collar. “And work that look. It suits you.”

The only thing this look would suit was a plant. Or a pea.

I looked down at my head-to-toe elf costume complete with body paint. I’d always thought being backstage in “hair and make-up” would be glam. I definitely never thought it would be so … green.

“The only thing I’m going to work,” I hissed, not just because I was fuming with Tess but because the green face paint had set my face semi-solid, “is how fast I can get this over and done with.”

Tess’s uni friends were waiting outside with Grace, as they weren’t allowed in the “crew” bit and Elijah had escorted me and my sister to this trailer. I was SO happy Grace was here though – last night she’d bawled her eyes out to Nativity and despite promising they were happy tears, I wasn’t so sure, so hopefully this trip could cheer her up. If it wasn’t for her being here, I would have run straight back to the car where Dad was waiting already.

Although now I was pea colour I didn’t want to run anywhere, except into a bath. Or maybe into some mashed potato to make Grace laugh.

I looked in the mirror and took a deep breath.

Don’t panic. This is what you wanted, remember?

My cunning plan. If Elijah was making me be here, making me pose with the cast on the big stage, showing the world Elf Girl, then that’s exactly what I was going to do – my way. Which is why I’d changed into a replica costume from the original video and a make-up artist was currently turning me green with the body paint I’d bought. My hope was that no one would be able to recognize me underneath it all, yet I’d still stuck to my end of the bargain.

As I stared at the horrified green face looking back at me, Tess snapped yet another picture.

“If you put this on social, I will officially kill you.”

Tess rolled her eyes. “Elf gone wild. We love to see it!” She laughed. I didn’t. “Relax. It’s going nowhere. Unless, of course, I find out you’ve been borrowing my black jacket again.” Oh, I see – she was securing blackmail material. She and Elijah should be besties.

“You should see if Elijah is looking for more people for his team,” I said, enjoying that she didn’t know I was insulting her.

“Talking of Elijah, Pankaj messaged me…” He was one of her uni friends who was working here, handing out flyers. “He’s sure Elijah was on his course but got kicked out…” The make-up artist coughed. Or maybe spluttered. Either way, Tess wiggled her eyebrows. “You didn’t hear it from me, though…”

My phone buzzed.

Grace: Transformation complete?

Then a gif of Ru Paul with the words “When you become the image of your own imagination, it’s the most powerful thing you could ever do”.

I’m not sure Ru Paul meant wearing a ginormous pointy red-and-white stripy hat with a bell on, but I took a selfie anyway.

Grace: Your elfie game is . Also don’t forget to get GOSSIP.

I laughed and sent back another of me working my angles – which are hard to find when you’re bright green and have your hair pulled up in pigtails. But messages were coming through on the family chat where Tess had just shared her half-blinking picture of me.

Mum: Going green is good for your elf!

Dad: Costume is 10/10. Maybe we should all wear them for Grampy G’s Grotto!

Mum: Proud of you, Molly Moo xxxx

Then a video of Billy from Mum. Bil always had something nice to say, so I pressed play.

“You look like broccoli!!!!” she yelled, waving with both hands.

Or not.

And there was no way Mum and Dad could wear fancy dress for the Grotto. Grace and I hadn’t told anyone about the venue change yet, as we were waiting till I’d lined up a new one. But that shouldn’t be too long. I’d already emailed our village hall and it was free, so once I’d filled in the form it would be confirmed, and we could send out the updated invite. I’d wanted to do it already, but everything had been so busy and my brain was already at risk of shutting down with too many open tabs – not exactly helped by the message I’d got late last night. That I still hadn’t replied to.

Unknown Number: What do you call a reindeer who messages someone out the blue hoping for a reply but knowing they probably won’t get one?

Unknown Number: Rude-olph.

Unknown Number: And also, a reindeer with surprisingly good typing skills.

The messages then stopped until an hour later.

Unknown Number: Already regretting that. Deeply. Down to my hooves. Can we pretend that never happened?

Not going to lie, they’d made me smile. Well, smile then frown, as I wondered how Ru had got my number. But mainly smile.

But would a Jingle Lady reply to it? I wasn’t sure. And there was no rush, as I wasn’t going to London anytime soon.

“Ready for the finishing touches, lil’ elf queen?” Jack the make-up artist twirled my chair so I was square on to the mirror.

“You mean there’s more?” He zhuzhed the ends of my pigtails.