Father Christmas and Me. Matt Haig
thought of the roasted chestnuts I used to eat every Christmas, before Mother had become poorly, and there they were, tender and warm and crumbling like a memory in my mouth. And this last taste, although delicious, also made me feel sad that I didn’t have a mother any more, so I swallowed it and didn’t ask for another one. I had some Giggle Candy instead, which tickled my tongue and made me laugh.
The shop doorbell tinkled and in walked a smartly dressed couple, both wearing red tunics. One of them had glasses and a bald head, and the other was as round as a globe.
‘Ah, hello, Pi,’ said Father Christmas to the one with glasses.
He then turned to me. ‘Pi is your new mathematics teacher.’
‘Hello,’ Pi said, chewing on some liquorice. ‘You’re a human. I’ve heard about human mathematics. It sounds most ridiculous.’
I was confused. ‘I thought mathematics was the same everywhere.’
Pi laughed. ‘Quite the opposite! Quite the opposite!’
And then I was introduced to the other elf, who was called Columbus. ‘I’m a teacher too. I teach geography.’
‘Is elf geography like human geography?’ asked Mary.
But Father Christmas answered on Columbus’s behalf. ‘No. For one thing, in human geography, Elfhelm doesn’t even exist.’
And then we ate some more sweets and bought some to take home and said goodbye to Bonbon and Pi and Columbus and headed out into the street. We walked past a newspaper stand selling the Daily Snow.
‘Oh dear,’ said Father Christmas. ‘There’s no queue . . . No one wants to buy the Daily Snow any more.’
I knew a bit about the Daily Snow. It was the main elf newspaper. It had always been run by an elf called Father Vodol. Father Vodol was a Very Bad Elf. He’d always hated Father Christmas and, when Father Christmas had first arrived in Elfhelm as a boy, had locked him up in prison. You see, Father Vodol used to be the Leader of the Elf Council and had ruled Elfhelm and made everyone fear outsiders, such as humans. But then, when Father Christmas had become Leader, Father Vodol kept running the Daily Snow for years – until last Christmas, when it became clear he’d helped the trolls attack Elfhelm. His punishment hadn’t been prison (elves don’t go to prison any more), it had been to lose the Daily Snow and to go and live in a small house on the quietest street in Elfhelm, which was called Very Quiet Street. It was seen as a punishment to have to live on Very Quiet Street because elves hated the quiet.
The only trouble with the Daily Snow was that since Noosh, the former Reindeer Correspondent, had taken over, two things had happened. First, the newspaper had got a lot better. Second, it had also stopped selling. It seemed that elves preferred it when Father Vodol made up stories and lied about everything.
I am telling you all this now, because it is important for what happens later. But at the time – stepping out of that sweet shop – I had a different worry in my mind.
‘I have never been to a school before. They didn’t teach you anything in the workhouse. All you did was work. And, besides, elf school sounds very strange. How will I fit in?’
‘Oh, but you see,’ said Father Christmas, ‘you underestimate yourself. You were good at riding a sleigh right from the start, weren’t you?’
‘But what if—’
‘Listen,’ said Father Christmas. ‘You don’t have to worry. This is Elfhelm. This is the place where anything can happen. It’s like that sweet you just ate. Whatever you hope to feel, you will feel.’
‘Is life really that simple, Nikolas?’ asked Mary, who called Father Christmas by his first name.
‘It can be,’ said Father Christmas.
And it was easy to feel as positive as him, right then, as we walked down the Main Path. Everything looked happy and bright.
Just then I noticed Father Christmas and Mary holding hands, and I thought it looked a very lovely thing. Maybe the loveliest thing I had ever seen. And I was so overwhelmed with the loveliness of it that I found myself saying what was in my mind, and what was in my mind was this: ‘You should get married.’
Both of them turned around to look at me on that happy, bustling, snow-lined street and looked shocked.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
And Mary said, ‘What a good idea, Amelia!’
And Father Christmas said, ‘The very best idea!’
And that is how Mary Ethel Winters came to marry Father Christmas.
Mother Christmas
Most of Elfhelm came to the Village Hall that day. Some pixies from the Wooded Hills even came. The Truth Pixie was there along with the Lie Pixie. The Lie Pixie said that he really liked my ears, which was a bit worrying. Father Christmas’s reindeer were all there too. He had made Blitzen promise that he wouldn’t go to the toilet on the floor during the service, and Blitzen stuck to that promise. There was also a Tomtegubb there. I had heard of pixies and elves, even when I had lived in London, but I had never heard of Tomtegubbs. There weren’t many of them apparently, and they were only found to the east of Elfhelm. Tomtegubbs didn’t have names and they were never male or female. They were always just Tomtegubbs and they came in different colours. This one glowed a kind of yellow and was a short chubby thing, and it smiled and hummed to itself the whole time. And Captain Soot came along too, nibbling dropped cake crumbs from the floor.
Oh, and there was also an earthquake. Or what felt like an earthquake. But it turned out to be just a troll walking all the way from Troll Valley to the wedding. She was such a large troll she couldn’t actually fit in the hall and had to sit on the snowy ground outside, but she peered inside the window. This was Urgula, the Supreme Troll Leader, who was larger even than all the untertrolls and übertrolls she was in charge of. I didn’t see the whole of her, but I saw her head with her hair as wild as a tree blowing in the wind.
Father Christmas opened the window at one point to talk to her. ‘Hello, Urgula, lovely to see you here.’
Urgula smiled and showed her three teeth, each one the size of a rotten door. ‘I be here to wish you and your love the biggest happiness from all we trolls.’
‘That is very kind,’ said Mary, standing by Father Christmas’s side.
The Sleigh Belles played a song they had written for the occasion called ‘You Look Beautiful To Me My Sweetheart (Even Though You Are A Human)’.
Father Topo, Father Christmas’s best friend, led the service. Elfhelm weddings, I soon realised, were slightly different to human ones.
‘Look into each other’s eyes,’ said Father Topo, ‘and try not to laugh.’
They both managed that very well until Father Topo started telling some terrible jokes.
‘What’s the best Christmas present?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mary.
‘A broken drum! You just can’t beat it . . . Get it?’
‘Yes,’ said Father Christmas, ‘I told you that one!’