The Battle for Christmas Read online

  Ellie grasped Max’s arm. ‘I know where we are! What were we doing when everything vanished and we were swept off our feet?’

  ‘Looking at a picture on your stupid pyjamas. Can I play with the dinosaurs?’

  ‘No. Listen, Max. The door opened, the window lights came on and flash bang! That’s where we must be now. In the Christmas Shop. Everything here is a Christmas toy or decoration. Those giant balls that fell on us – they were just like Christmas-tree baubles. We must have dislodged them from their shelf when we crashed up against the wall.’

  ‘Cool!’ grinned Max. ‘We’re in Christmas Land!’

  By this time thirty or more toys had gathered round, together with some decorations – the things that hang on Christmas trees or get stuck in the icing on festive cakes. There were reindeer, polar bears and Father Christmases. In addition to that lot, a crowd of Christmas-stocking toys jostled with a flock of sheep from a nativity set and several pairs of wind-up clacking false teeth.

  Two glitzy dolls pushed their way through the shifting crowd and confronted Ellie and Max. They took up a threatening stance. One was impossibly blonde, wearing a jazzy pair of denim shorts, high heels and a T-shirt with a silver lightning bolt design on the front. She had a knife strapped to one thigh and a sparkly handbag hanging from her right shoulder. She was chewing gum and rolling it round her mouth.

  ‘It’s Lara Croft gone blonde,’ Max whispered excitedly.

  ‘With a handbag like that she’s more like Lara Barbie, if you ask me,’ Ellie hissed back.

  The second doll had long, impossibly glossy black hair, a red bandana round her head and a matching red eyepatch over her left eye. She was dressed in a leopardskin-print catsuit and a short sarong, with a wide, loose belt studded with fake diamonds. Something bulky hung from the belt.

  ‘Wow! She’s got a gun.’ Max pointed at the holster. ‘Neat!’

  Max was so excited by the gun that he didn’t even seem to realize that the doll had one leg missing. She was using a rainbow pencil as a crutch. Ellie couldn’t help noticing that the doll had left a multicoloured dotted trail behind her.

  The blonde doll took a step forward, one hand resting on the handle of her knife.

  ‘Name’s Commander Blondie, Double “O” Heaven,’ she announced, tossing back her thick mane and staring intently at Ellie and Max with startlingly blue eyes. ‘This ’ere is Commander Aysha. Are you rebels?’

  Ellie turned up both hands and shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. We’ve only just arrived here.’

  Aysha lifted her eyepatch and carried out a closer inspection. ‘They don’t look like anyone from round here, sister,’ she muttered, before replacing the eyepatch. Evidently it was a fashion item and not of any real use.

  Aysha unbuttoned her holster, whipped out a tube of deep-red lipstick and trailed it round her mouth. She popped the lipstick back, checked her make-up in a little vanity mirror and snapped the holster shut. So much for the gun. Max was bitterly disappointed.

  ‘Well, if they ain’t rebels, sister, what are they?’ asked Blondie.

  Max nudged Ellie. ‘Why do they call each other sister? They can’t be sisters, can they?’

  ‘It’s just a way of showing they work together,’ Ellie explained. ‘I think they’re secret agents or in some kind of army. I’m going to talk to them.’

  Ellie took a deep breath and began to explain what had happened. Blondie widened her eyes, flashing a massive pair of false eyelashes as she did so.

  ‘Well, ain’t that a story and a half!’ she exclaimed. ‘I wondered why you was still in your jimmy-jams. Where’s your ’andbag, love, anyway?’

  ‘I don’t have one,’ Ellie said.

  Aysha flicked up her eyepatch and goggled at Ellie. ‘Doesn’t have a handbag! Have you ever heard the like, sister? Where do you keep your make-up then?’

  ‘I don’t have any,’ Ellie admitted.

  ‘Lord ’elp us,’ muttered Blondie. ‘You’s a fashion disaster, you is, that’s what.’

  At this point the diplodocus pushed his long neck forward and muttered something into Aysha’s ear. The doll frowned and nodded. ‘Dippy reckons they’re not carol singers after all, sister. He says they might be spies.’

  The two commanders examined Max and Ellie all over again.

  ‘Yeah, could be,’ murmured Blondie, with a frown. ‘That explains why they look odd. They’re probably mince spies.’

  Max and Ellie burst out laughing. It was not a good thing to do.

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Blondie. ‘What you laughin’ at?’

  ‘We’re mince spies!’ giggled Max.

  Instantly half the penguins, bears and Father Christmases took several worried steps back.

  ‘There! The boy’s just admitted it,’ cried Blondie in alarm. ‘We got a pair of mince spies ’ere, right in our midst.’

  Ellie realized that while all of this was funny to her and Max it certainly wasn’t funny to them. They were genuinely scared.

  ‘What exactly is a mince spy?’ Ellie asked gently. ‘I’m sorry if we upset you, but we don’t know what you’re talking about. Where we come from there is no such thing as a mince spy.’

  One of the penguins pressed forward and spoke slowly and pointedly. ‘Mince spies were like us once, only now they’ve been minced.’ The penguin gave Max a very hard stare. ‘Anyone might be a mince spy.’

  ‘Who minces you?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘Who do you think?’ snapped Aysha. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know. The Christmas Fairy.’

  For a split second Ellie thought this was some kind of joke, but several penguins had tumbled over backward as they fainted from the awful horror of what had been mentioned. Half the Father Christmases had pulled their floppy hats right down over their heads to hide.

  ‘An’ when she’s finished mincin’,’ Blondie continued, ‘she makes the toy into somefing else, like a child, for example,’ she added, glaring at Ellie and Max. ‘And she sends it back to spy on us.’

  ‘But why would a Christmas fairy want to spy on you?’ asked Ellie, struggling to understand.

  ‘Are you stupid, or what?’ snapped Blondie. ‘It’s not a Christmas fairy, it’s THE Christmas Fairy. To find out what we’re doin’, an’ to stop it, whatever it is. An’ maybe that’s why you two’s ’ere. Maybe you two’s spyin’ for the Chris—SCRAM!’ she suddenly screamed. ‘Angel attack! Retreat!’

  The toys vanished in all directions in panic, waddling over each other, crashing past Max and Ellie until the two children found themselves alone in the middle of a dark and empty room.

  They were very puzzled and their heads were ringing with questions. Why was everyone worried about spies? And as for an angel attack, what was that all about? Since when had angels begun attacking people? Surely they wouldn’t attack Ellie and Max, anyway? They hadn’t done anything.

  And then something nasty stung Ellie. And Max.

  Ow! Ow! Ow!

  4 Angel Wings, Angel Stings and a Very Hairy Christmas Fairy

  The air was filled with buzzing angels everywhere, whizzing and whirring, glittering like frost and blowing their trumpets. No – they weren’t trumpets at all. They were blowpipes! The angels were swooping down in waves and zapping stings at the two children.

  Max leaped up and down, waving his arms furiously, trying to beat off the angelic host, most of whom were as big as he was. Only a few had feathery wings. The rest had to make do with crude wooden panels that slapped the air and made them the most clumsy, awkward creatures imaginable. They squeaked and shrieked to each other, zooming in like wasps descending on a picnic.

  ‘Make them run! Make them jump! Sting, sting, sting the mince spies!’

  Ellie groaned. Why did everyone think they were spies? She wished they’d stop calling her a mince spy too. She was beginning to feel like a bad joke that had fallen out of a Christmas cracker.

  The children were slowly driven back to the wall and it wasn’t long before they were pinned against
it, with about fifty stinging trumpets aimed at them. In effect, they had been captured.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Max asked his big sister.

  Ellie wanted to say something encouraging but she was rapidly becoming very fed up with the whole business. She snapped back at her brother. ‘Funnily enough, I don’t know, Max, I’ve never had to fight angels with nasty stings before. It’s not in my Good Girl’s Guide to What to Do in Moments of Mortal Danger either.’

  ‘Sssilenccce!’

  The new voice hissed like a snake in a frying pan. Ellie and Max found themselves gazing at what was quite obviously the angel leader. She was none other than the fairy off the Christmas tree, the one the toys were so afraid of, the one that made the penguins faint – and she didn’t look happy. Her body was twisting and jerking as if she was being constantly and painfully poked.She kept stretching one hand behind to scratch herself.

  Max sniggered. ‘I think she’s been stuck on top of the Christmas tree too often,’ he muttered. ‘No wonder she keeps jerking like that. She must have such a sore bu–’

  ‘Sssilence, ssspy!’ yelled the Christmas Fairy, swiping at Max with her wand and almost taking off his left ear. ‘Ssspeak when you’re sssspoken to.’

  Ellie knew a bully when she saw one and stepped in front of Max defensively. ‘You did speak to us. You told us to be silent,’ she boldly pointed out.

  There’s nothing like a bit of silly logic to upset bossy people. The Christmas Fairy erupted into a volcanic rage and almost blew her dress off. It took her ages to calm down and meanwhile her tatty, wooden-winged angelic army spluttered and tutted and pointed their sting-things at the children even more angrily.

  Ellie kept thinking that at any moment she would wake up, but she didn’t. It was no dream and there was no relief. She was just going to have to get on with it.

  The Christmas Fairy eventually managed to scrape herself off the ceiling. She fixed Ellie and Max with an icy glare from one eye. The other eye was missing. In fact the more Ellie examined the Christmas Fairy, the more ancient she seemed. Her sparkle and glitter were tarnished. Her make-up was cracked and her lipstick smeared into a snarling sneer. Her hair was falling out. One shoe was missing and her dress was torn and grubby. Ellie couldn’t help thinking that, compared to Blondie and Aysha, here was a real fashion disaster.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ the Christmas Fairy demanded.

  ‘We don’t know,’ Ellie answered, quite truthfully. ‘We’d really rather not be here at all. We’d like to go home because otherwise we’re going to miss Christmas. Besides, our parents will be worried. You know what parents are like. They get worried if you go to the toilet for longer than half a minute. They probably think you’ve drowned. In fact I sometimes –’

  ‘Sssilenccce!’ screamed the Christmas Fairy again, and her one good eye spun round and round in its socket. ‘Where have you come from?’

  Ellie whizzed through the pyjama story once more, finishing up by telling the Christmas Fairy that they lived in Great Britain.

  A hush fell upon the angels. ‘The World!’ they whispered excitedly. ‘They come from The World!’

  ‘Shut up, you fairy cakes!’ roared the Christmas Fairy before turning back to Ellie and Max. ‘Ssso you come from The World. Do you happen to know Father Christmas?’

  The Christmas Fairy leaned forward and peered at them very closely now, still twitching from time to time. There was a glint in her eye that made Ellie think the question might be a dangerous trap. She must answer it in just the right way or they would end up in very hot water. Trouble was, Ellie had no idea why the question was dangerous or what she should answer. Tricky!

  ‘We have heard of Father Christmas,’ she began. ‘Everyone in the world has heard of Father Christmas, but we don’t know him.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ The Christmas Fairy seemed disappointed. Ellie felt it was a good sign. Maybe they had escaped the trap, whatever it was. Hooray!

  ‘You’ve not met him then?’

  ‘No.’ Ellie shook her head.

  The Fairy jerked away from them for a moment, then suddenly swung round and poked her face even closer to Ellie’s. ‘And what about rebels? Have you met any?’

  Ellie suddenly remembered Blondie had mentioned a rebel army. But which lot were the rebels – the angels or Blondie and co?

  ‘What rebels?’ asked Ellie, playing it safe.

  ‘Hrrrgh,’ growled the Fairy. She was definitely puzzled now, and frustrated by Ellie’s replies. She scratched her rear furiously. She ignored Ellie’s question and pressed on with the interrogation. ‘Ssso, if you don’t know Father Christmas and you don’t know any rebels, why have you come here?’

  ‘Didn’t have any choice,’ Ellie shrugged. ‘We just found ourselves here.’

  One of the feathered angels pressed forward. ‘Blondie and The Others were trying to arrest them, Christmas Fairy.’

  ‘Were they, indeed? They can’t be spying on us then.’

  ‘Why would we want to spy on you?’ Ellie asked. ‘We’ve only just got here and we don’t know what’s going on. We’ve been surrounded by dinosaurs and dolls and attacked by angels with stings and we still don’t know why.’

  ‘Ssspies everywhere,’ muttered the Christmas Fairy. ‘It’s that other lot, trying to discover our –’ She broke off and looked sharply at the children again. She stuck the pointed end of her wand under Ellie’s chin and lifted it up. It hurt. ‘Oh no, you don’t. You can’t trick me into giving our secrets away.’

  ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Ellie choked up, as the wand pressed against her throat.

  Max stuck his head out from behind his sister. ‘I’m six and a half,’ he complained. ‘You’re not allowed to be a spy when you’re only six and a half. Everybody knows that!’

  ‘Ssssssssh! How dare you! You teeny-weeny-peeny thing! I could have you made into Christmas pudding!’

  Both the children shrank away from the Fairy who, despite her anger, could not deny Max’s reasoning. Strange to say, it was one of the angels who came to their aid.

  ‘They’re harmless,’ the angel murmured to her leader. ‘We’re wasting our time. They don’t know anything, Mistress. Might as well let them go.’

  ‘Yessss,’ hissed the Christmas Fairy. ‘Let them go. They’re useless to us.’

  And with that they all buzzed off. In a few moments the last clattering wooden angel had vanished and the two children were by themselves once more. Ellie looked at Max.

  ‘Have you worked out what’s going on yet?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘You?’

  ‘Nope. But maybe Commander Blondie has. Look, she’s coming back, and this time she’s driving a tank.’

  5 Exploding Mangers and Dead Secret Plans

  Blondie stood in the tank’s turret, wearing a customized glitter-pink crash helmet and a frown. The tank’s main cannon was swivelling around wildly in search of the recently departed enemy. It ground to a halt right in front of Ellie and Max.

  ‘Thought you might need some ’elp,’ grunted the blonde commander.

  A second tank, with Aysha at the controls, sped up. The tank squeaked to a halt and the gun turret swung round so fast that it almost took Blondie’s head off. She had to duck down into her own tank at lightning speed. Aysha was now sporting two designer eyepatches, one for each eye, and consequently had no idea where she was going.

  ‘Oh!’ Ellie was surprised to realize that Blondie and Aysha were on a rescue mission to save them. The last time they’d met, Ellie and Max had almost been arrested, for spying of course. Why was everyone in the shop so scared of spies?

  ‘Them angels is nasty beasts,’ the doll scowled. ‘They’re about as angelic as a scorpion wiv toothache.’

  ‘I don’t think scorpions can get toothache; they don’t have teeth,’ said Ellie and immediately felt ashamed of herself. After all, Blondie was trying to help.

  ‘Don’t matter,’ shrugged the doll. ‘I wouldn
’t like to meet a scorpion wiv or wivout teeth, so there. You two ’ad better get up ’ere in case them pesky flyin’ fings come back.’

  Ellie and Max climbed on to the tank and Blondie swung the vehicle round. They trundled across the floor of the empty room. Max was impressed.

  ‘I wish I could drive it,’ he sighed.

  ‘Get your own bloomin’ tank,’ snapped Blondie. Ellie smiled to herself. She was beginning to like the cantankerous commander.

  Before long they came to the far edge of the room. As they approached the skirting board a large panel slid to one side with a faint swoosh and the tank plunged straight through the entrance and vanished into the next room.

  ‘Cool!’ murmured Max, as they rumbled through a short tunnel before emerging into another world. Behind them a group of plastic penguins hurriedly pushed the door back into place to conceal the entrance.

  As they gazed around Ellie and Max saw all sorts of work going on. Another tank was being prepared by more penguins. A group of teddy bears was making repairs to a large fire engine. A loud bang followed by an expanding puff of drifting smoke drew their attention to a wooden nativity group. Mary, Joseph and the Three Kings had just deliberately blown up something that looked suspiciously like the Baby Jesus’s manger.

  Ellie swallowed hard. ‘Was that an exploding crib I just saw?’ she asked faintly and Blondie nodded.