•THINK POSITIVE
•
•Put up 200 snowflakes
For someone who had run offstage a week ago, I couldn’t believe what I was now doing. And that I was wearing my Scottish snowwoman jumper to do it. With tiny lights plaited into my hair. Billy’s horse skills had come in most useful.
One by one I moved the miniature reindeer into the hallway, the snowflakes I’d made dangling everywhere, and stepped outside, the morning air so cold my breath looked like steam. I refreshed what I’d posted last night on the Sleigh Another Day official account, my stupid grinning face filling up the whole screen, an elf hat jingling away as I chatted.
“Yup. The rumours are true. I’m Elf Girl. Me, Molly Bell. Or @mollythelolly. Nice to finally meet you. And I’m here to do what elves are meant to do best. Spread some Christmas cheer. Consider it an early Christmas present. Because if you love @SleighAnotherDay we have all the exclusive, behind the scenes prizes you could ever want! Including…”
I jingled some bells
“…giving you the chance to get to meet the cast on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Lapland! There’s no limit to the number of tickets you can buy in this exclusive raffle But be quick as it’s only open for forty-eight hours. So, take part, like, share, tell your mates, do whatever you can – because this isn’t just an awesome prize, it’s the chance to raise money for @TheHollyHospice in Bromster, all in the name of the best Christmas elf there ever was, Grampy G.”
I put my hands over my eyes as I watched me awkwardly throw a peace sign to the camera. And for the first time in seven years say the words: “Happy holidays from the cutest little elf in the whole wide world!”
I’d physically folded in embarrassment. I wasn’t sure if Grace would see it, but that wasn’t the only reason I’d done it. I’d done it because Grace was right – secrets had only ever made things worse so it was time to get it all out in the open. And what better way to do it than by helping Grampy G’s fundraiser?
I’d even taken my own profile off private. I was done hiding. The post had had over 13,000 likes already. Yes, I’d had to beg Tim for the Lapland tickets, and had to get Elijah to talk him into letting me put all the other prizes online, but I’d offered to do it along with my elf reveal video and Tim had eventually said yes – I think mainly to get me out of his office. Clearing the posts with them also meant they never needed to know Harry had given me the login details after all. What a guy, risking getting grounded for life, all to support the fundraiser and help me try and make things up to Grace.
Beep, beep, beep.
A loud mechanical noise brought me back to where I was. Watching Elijah in a high-vis jacket, next to Mum, Dad and Billy, aka a turkey, a parsnip and a tiny horse, directing empty trucks into the church car park near our house.
When the trucks started arriving at 6 a.m. the whole village had come out to stare, but two hours later and the whole place was buzzing – all our neighbours bringing tea and biscuits for the crew.
Everywhere was chaos! Would this all be done by half six tonight? That’s when I’d asked Grace to be here with her dad, after they’d finished playing minigolf for his birthday. All I’d told her was that I’d planned a big Christmas surprise and I hoped she’d like it. Not that she’d replied.
“I have to give it to you, Molly.” Elijah stepped next to me, as we watched my dad manhandle a giant snowman through our garden gate. “You weren’t wrong when you said you lived in a village that looked like a Christmas card.”
It really did. Last night’s snow had settled on the sloping cottage roofs and as more and more of the pieces of the Sleigh Another Day set got put in place, the more it looked even better than the film.
“Do you think this will work?”
Elijah rolled his eyes. “I think it has to after I dragged everyone up to Remotesville.”
I elbowed him, but we both laughed. We knew full well he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t think it was a good idea. Shooting the music video he’d been desperate for. Right here at the home of The Brussel Shouts. In our house crammed with decorations, in our garden that was as bright as Las Vegas, in our village, with all our neighbours at the ready in their Christmas jumpers. Sosig had even had a moustache and beard trim for the occasion. I wasn’t going to be in the video, my confession on social media was more than enough elf-ing for me, but this was just what I wanted.
I might have messed up things with Grace, and with Ru, but I didn’t have to mess up Grampy G’s Grotto. If Elijah wanted a music video, and Tim wanted a big final idea, they could have one. Bigger and better than they’d imagined. And once the cameras stopped rolling, I’d sorted the sets and all the lights staying on for the evening so me and my family could throw the best party Grampy G could ever have imagined. The ultimate Christmas street party. The ultimate Grampy G’s Grotto.
We had everything. Snow machines, the igloos, the archways, the trails of baubles, the mechanical robins, all of it. The only thing missing was the giant sleigh pulled by reindeers, but Elijah said London to Bromster was a long way for them to travel when they had the entire globe to do on Christmas Eve next week.
I crossed my fingers. Please let this look good. It was a simple video, The Brussel Shouts performing, a crowd cheering along, lots of hand-held-style filming, Christmas stuff in every direction. I wanted it to be good for SO many reasons, but mainly because Tim and Elijah had agreed that every single stream would raise a tiny bit of money for Grampy G’s Grotto fund.
It was so surreal seeing it all here. The night before last I’d sent out an urgent email to all the people who had originally said they were coming to Grampy G’s party, telling them it was still on, but that there had been a top secret special change of plan. I hoped at least a few turned up. I’d asked everyone to get here for half five, just in time to record the performance and big crowd scene and then stay for the party to celebrate Grampy G. I’d promised Elijah I could sort a crowd if he sorted everything else, so had invited loads of randoms too – my netball team, people in my year, anyone I could think of, and my family had done the same. I’d even asked Zaiynab and Matt. And Mia, the waitress who had recognized me in the cafe.
But there was really only one person I cared about turning up. Grace. My stomach cramped thinking about her. Grace, who still wasn’t speaking to me.
Please let her come. Please let her like this.
My eyes moved to the giant poster outside the village shop that I’d helped the art department make to cover up their real signs. A vintage poster of Grampy G as Father Christmas with Grace when she was a little girl, sitting on his lap. I smiled at him. I really hoped this elf was doing OK.
“We’ll be on camera in two hours…” Elijah flicked through some papers on his clipboard. “Midday prompt we start rehearsals. Then shoot street and details. Crowd arrive at five thirty p.m. Filming performance at six thirty p.m. Not a lot of time for takes, but rough and ready is the perfect vibe.” He peered over at our house. “Very suitable for The Brussel Shouts.”
He looked at me – and smiled.
Things with Elijah had changed since we’d had that chat. The last few days he’d worked round the clock to help me pull this off, constantly checking in that I was OK – and as grumpy as he liked to pretend to be, I could see his relief it was working out. He’d even tried to help me smooth things over with Ru.
But when I’d messaged him saying sorry and asking to chat, all I’d got back was, “Sure. When things are less busy.” And we both knew with him, things were never less busy. I couldn’t really blame him.
“Joseph and Maeve would have adored this.” Jack came and stood where Elijah had just left. “Shame they’re on a plane to Lapland.”
It really was. I’d had my chance with Ru. And I’d blown it.
“And one last time…” Jack put his arm around me. All morning he’d been hanging out with Billy, making my mum look super glam (for her tiny bit of face peeping out between the turkey legs), blow-drying Tess’s hair and being an absolute hero. “Is there any way I can talk you into making an appearance?” He squeezed my shoulders. “I left a full costume in your room. Because, who knows, in ten years’ time you might regret being the only one of your family who’s missed out?”
I doubted it. The only thing I’d regretted about the original one was being in it.
“Oh! Little Elf! Little Elf!”
The first line of the song blared out of the speakers so loudly I jumped in the air.
“Positions!” the director yelled. Harry was such a legend for talking his mum into doing this for free, although it was gutting he couldn’t come with her. “Ready for rehearsal, please…”
I looked over at the stage. It stretched right across the road from the end of our garden to the pavement opposite. It was glittery and green and looked like a giant cracker had landed in Bromster. There were lights whizzing about all over it and in the middle of it was Billy, trotting around in a reindeer suit, Mum, pinching the bum of a giant parsnip (may potentially need therapy for that image), and Tess looking like a movie star in a sequinned red-and-green dress, working a mega pout. And behind them all, on our front lawn, was Cara, all lit up. Yup, my family were all absolutely bonkers. But they were my bonkers.
And despite everything that had happened, I felt something bubbling up.
