by Matt Haig
‘I will never say that. And no one would believe it anyway.’
‘Oh, I think they would. Do you have any idea how many times Father Christmas has been at the Bank of Chocolate this month? Trying to borrow money to help repair the sleigh you wrecked. And if anyone doesn’t know, they will soon. It’s covered at length in today’s evening edition of the Daily Truth. And we’ve already got the headline for Christmas Day. Follow me.’ He stared at the rabbit holding me. ‘I want to show her something. You don’t mind, do you, Easter Bunny?’
‘Not at all. I’ll come with you.’
So I was led away, away from the Truth Pixie, to a nearby underground room.
Anger boiled inside me. And then it kept boiling as I saw, there in the rabbit burrow, an underground newsroom, complete with some elves I recognised.
‘Spicer! Come here. Give us the mock-up for our Christmas Day special.’
And then Spicer, that barrel-shaped elf with the oversized tunic I had seen in the crowd on Father Christmas’s doorstep, came over with a sheet of paper that showed the Christmas Day front page.
‘There you go, sir.’
Father Vodol showed it to me. It was nothing but a headline in huge black letters.
‘FATHER CHRISTMAS – BANK ROBBER,’ I read out loud.
And that is when my anger bubbled over and came out of my mouth. ‘You can’t do that!’
‘You know what, Spicer, I think she is right,’ said Father Vodol. ‘We shouldn’t run with that headline.’
Spicer seemed genuinely confused. ‘Shouldn’t we?’
‘No. We should put it in speech marks. “FATHER CHRISTMAS – BANK ROBBER – says the human girl”.’
‘I will never say that.’
‘You just did! And you will again.’
‘Okay, okay,’ said the Easter Bunny. ‘Please don’t think we’re evil. Try to see the bigger picture. Now, let’s get things moving. Some of my rabbits will accompany you above ground. And Father Vodol, of course. And then Father Christmas will be locked away.’
Father Vodol’s smile curled like a snake. ‘For ever, this time.’
‘But I’ll tell everyone you’re lying.’
He didn’t even blink. ‘Oh no, you won’t, because if you do that your little pixie friend will end up very, very dead.’
‘Incredibly dead,’ added the Easter Bunny, with sad eyes. ‘As dead as a chocolate egg.’
Father Vodol gazed at me for a moment, his skin glowing from that strange light of fire lanterns and Colour Worms. ‘Right. Let’s go. Let’s stop Christmas.’
The Bank Robber
here was chaos on the Main Path. Outside the Bank of Chocolate elves crowded around to listen to what Sovereign was telling them.
‘It appears we have been robbed,’ she said, clasping her hands together, smiling a professional bank clerk smile. ‘There is no more chocolate in the vault. Which means of course there is no money we can give you.’
‘But it’s Christmas Eve!’ one elf said.
‘And it’s payday!’ said another.
They hadn’t seen us yet. It was just Father Vodol and me now. The Easter Bunny was waiting inside Father Vodol’s house on Very Quiet Street. I had just left there. You see, one of the rabbit tunnels, the one we entered via the underground newsroom, led straight into Father Vodol’s tiny living room. There was a ladder and everything. So each time anyone saw Father Vodol enter his house, they were really seeing him enter his vast new secret newsroom.
Anyway, the Easter Bunny was staying there and we were not too far away, around a couple of corners, on the Main Path, heading towards the commotion. Father Vodol was carrying a toy whistle, the kind made in the Toy Workshop. He had told me what it was for. If he gave one sharp blast, then the Easter Bunny would head quickly back down into the warren and give the order for the poor Truth Pixie to be killed.
They hadn’t explained exactly how they would kill the Truth Pixie, except by chocolate. Maybe they were going to plop her into the hot liquid chocolate lake and leave her there.
The one thing I did know is that they were serious. One blow of that whistle and the Truth Pixie would be in trouble.
‘Are you ready?’ said Father Vodol.
‘No,’ I said.
‘Too bad.’ And then he raised his voice. ‘What’s going on here?’
The elves all turned to look at him.
Pi was there. ‘There has been a bank robbery.’
‘Oh no!’ said Father Vodol, faking surprise. ‘I wonder who could have done that?’ He turned at me and kept nodding his head. ‘Amelia! You look like you want to tell us all something.’
‘Do I?’
‘Yes, you absolutely do.’
‘I don’t think I do.’
All the elves were staring at me. Many were holding their latest copy of the Daily Truth. I saw Noosh in the crowd. She was frowning at me, and already seemed to know something odd was going on.
‘Amelia, tell the elves what you just told me.’ He opened his hand and showed me the whistle. ‘In the next five seconds, ideally.’
He pinched the whistle between his thumb and forefinger and lifted it slowly to his mouth. In five seconds he was going to blow the whistle. In five seconds the Easter Bunny would hear it and head down into the burrow with the Truth Pixie. She would die. Whatever happened I had to stop Father Vodol from blowing that whistle.
‘Four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .’
‘All right!’ I shouted, just as the toy whistle reached Father Vodol’s lips. ‘All right! I know who did it!’
‘Who?’ asked Mother Breer.
‘Yes,’ said Sovereign, ‘you must tell us. Who is the bank robber? If you have information you must give it.’
I took a deep breath and could hardly believe what I was about to say. ‘It was Father Christmas.’
Gasps spread among the crowd.
Voices grew.
‘I knew it!’
‘He’s been having money problems recently.’
Noosh stepped forwards with Little Mim. She stared at me incredulously. ‘That’s impossible. That is a total lie.’
Another gasp from the crowd.
I stared at the whistle, hanging in Father Vodol’s mouth. I had to make them believe me. The Truth Pixie’s life depended on it. ‘It isn’t. It’s true, I’m afraid.’
‘But it makes no sense’, said Noosh. ‘Father Christmas is a good person. He has worked his whole life trying to make people – elves as well as humans – as happy as can be. He simply could not do this.’
And then I thought of something. If Father Christmas was going to end up locked away, then he was not going to be locked up alone. After all, this was all my fault.
‘I did it too. I was involved.’
I watched the elf faces. Obviously these were not the elves most loyal to Father Christmas – most of them worked in the Toy Workshop and would not be out on the Main Path on Christmas Eve – but, still, to see their once friendly faces so angry and hateful was quite scary, and reminded me of the mob that had crowded around 7 Reindeer Road yesterday evening.
‘Why are you lying?’ Noosh asked me. ‘Listen, everybody, Father Christmas and Amelia are not bank robbers.’
Father Vodol pulled the whistle from his mouth and put it back in his pocket. ‘No wonder you can’t sell any newspapers with such foolishness as that, Noosh. Don’t you understand? Father Christmas didn’t give himself a pay rise because he wants to look good. He wants everyone to love him. Elves, humans, the entire world. It’s pathetic! He’s an egomaniac! And a liar! And, as of today, a bank robber!’
‘Lock him up!’ someone shouted.
‘Lock him up!’ said someone else.
‘Lock him up! Lock him up! Lock him up!’
‘Now,’ said Father Vodol, ‘we need to do something very quickly. This situation can’t go on. As the last proper Leader of the Elf Council before Father Christmas it falls upon me to take charge of the situation. Now, he’s no
t going to give up easily. He’ll expect all those loyal foolish elves busy now at the workshop to keep working all Christmas Eve . . . EVEN THOUGH HE HAS STOLEN THEIR MONEY!’
‘He hasn’t stolen their money,’ said Noosh, and I wanted to say it too, but couldn’t. And, anyway, her voice was drowned out by the crowd.
‘Listen,’ said Father Vodol, quietening everyone down. ‘It is very likely that Father Christmas is planning his escape this very night, when he flies into the human world. And he will take all your money with him! Unfortunately, the elf army was disbanded when he first took over, but luckily I have a solution.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Sovereign.
‘Rabbits,’ he said. And then he shouted the word as loud as he could. ‘RABBITS! RABBITS! RABBITS!’
The crowd stared at him, mouths open, bewildered.
‘We are on the brink of an all-out war with humans . . .’ said Father Vodol.
‘We’re really not,’ attempted Noosh. But it was no good.
‘Rabbits are our only hope of protection. In my first act as Emergency Leader of the Elf Council I hereby declare the Easter Bunny and the Rabbit Army to be our new allies in the defence of Elfhelm from the corruption and trickery and selfishness of humans.’
‘That is a truly awful idea,’ said Noosh.
But it was already happening. I could see the Easter Bunny, followed by his army of rabbits, marching towards us.
‘Aaagh!’ wailed Little Mim, pulling on Noosh’s hand. ‘Rabbits!’
‘Take Amelia into the warren and keep her there!’ said Father Vodol, once they had arrived.
‘Don’t you dare!’ protested Noosh.
‘One more word out of you, and you and Little Mim will be sent there too.’
Noosh pulled a terrified Little Mim tighter to her, and she began to cry for me as I was dragged away by two rabbit soldiers.
I could hear Father Vodol in the background. ‘Now, don’t worry, elves. The Easter Bunny and I are here to help. We and the Rabbit Army are going to head straight away to the Toy Workshop and bring Father Christmas to justice.’
And, as I was hauled away back through Elfhelm, towards Very Quiet Street and the warren below, I kept thinking about Father Christmas right at that moment. There, in the workshop, holding open his infinity sack as all the elves queued up to drop the presents they had made inside. I knew he would be so happy. This was his favourite day of the year. He would be singing. The whole workshop would be too. And then, right about now, there would be a knock on the door. And the Rabbit Army would enter. As I headed back into the darkness of the warren, I didn’t have a thought for myself. I just kept on thinking of Father Christmas’s smile fading as he came face to face with the Easter Bunny, and then being arrested and dragged to the underground prison that I was now headed towards.
I felt so guilty I could have cried. But I didn’t. Crying wasn’t going to save Christmas.
In the Cages
here was a prison, in the warren.
There were no Colour Worms. Just flickering lanterns and four human-sized cages – or ‘hutches’, as the rabbits called them. I was in one of the hutches. Father Christmas was in another. And the Truth Pixie was in a third. The bars of the hutches were so close together even a pixie could not squeeze through. There was one empty cage at the end that soon had a new occupant. Two rabbits, on Father Vodol’s orders, brought a very confused Mary into the warren and pushed her inside.
‘What’s going on?’ Mary asked.
Father Christmas explained. ‘They think I robbed a bank. They think you all helped.’
‘And it’s my fault,’ I said.
‘Yes, it is absolutely her fault,’ said the Truth Pixie.
Father Christmas tried to reach through the bars of the cage for Mary’s hand. ‘I’m sorry about all this, Mary. It’s not—’
‘No,’ I interrupted as three rabbit guards stood watching us, sharing a carrot between them. ‘The Truth Pixie is right. This is all my fault. I’m sorry I have ruined Christmas.’
The Truth Pixie, by the way, was the only one of us who for the moment didn’t seem worried. ‘Just like the old days, FC? Father Vodol locking us up together. It’s destiny, don’t you think? We’re meant to be together.’ She stared at Mary, who was glaring at the pixie. ‘Sorry, Lumpy.’
‘My name is Mary.’
The Truth Pixie shrugged. ‘I never said it wasn’t.’
‘We’ve got to get out of here!’ said Father Christmas. ‘It’s Christmas Eve! Children all over the world are expecting me.’
The Truth Pixie sighed. ‘You know, maybe you should just give up on the whole Christmas thing. It seems to bring you a lot of unnecessary trouble.’
Father Christmas ignored her and started to talk to one of the rabbit guards – the number 555 stitched onto his jacket. ‘Listen, furry friend, ever so sorry to bother you but we really need to get out of here quite urgently. I have a lot of work to do tonight. I know you have orders to follow, but it’s Christmas and that is the time of year for, you know, tipping things upside down, subverting the established order, doing something unexpected, and being good.’
555 ignored him and kept munching on his carrot.
‘What’s going to happen to us?’ I asked.
The Truth Pixie shrugged. ‘Bad things, I’d guess.’
‘What about magic?’ I whispered, when it looked like the rabbits weren’t paying attention. ‘Drimwickery. If you can fly around the world and stop time, then surely we can escape an underground rabbit hutch?’
‘I would love to think so, Amelia,’ replied Father Christmas, ‘but you are forgetting something. Magic depends on hope. What hope do we have? There is no magic in the air, not down here. There is no magic among the elves. Even some of the workshop elves will have turned against me, now they think I am a bank robber.’
‘They won’t think that, sweetbread’ said Mary, looking at him fondly. ‘Father Topo will be telling them the truth. Come on, we need to find some hope.’
The Truth Pixie was shaking her head. ‘Father Topo won’t know the truth.’
‘Well, he’ll know Father Christmas isn’t guilty, just as Noosh does,’ I suggested.
‘It won’t be enough. Elves aren’t pixies. They aren’t free thinkers. They tend to believe what they read in the papers.’
I had never seen Father Christmas like this before. There was no twinkle in his eyes. No smile on his face. His cheeks looked distinctly un-rosy, and he was sighing heavily. ‘Father Vodol has wanted this day for years. And now it is here. It will be a disaster for the elves. They will become scared and miserable and unkind, the way they once were. And it will be a disaster for humans too, because now there will be millions of empty stockings all around the world. It will probably be a disaster for Father Vodol too, even though he doesn’t realise it yet. And there is nothing we can do about it. Even if we get out of this prison we’d still have the whole Rabbit Army against us, and every elf who chooses to believe the Daily Truth. It’s . . .’ He stopped. He couldn’t believe he was about to say it. ‘It’s . . .’
Mary was shaking her head and sniffing quietly.
And then he said it. Father Christmas said the word I never thought I’d hear him say.
‘It’s impossible.’
Death by Chocolate
nd just at that moment we heard voices coming through the tunnel. Our guards stopped munching their carrots and stood to attention and saluted as the Easter Bunny and Father Vodol marched in.
The Easter Bunny came up to the cage containing Father Christmas. His nose and whiskers twitched. His dark eyes glistened gold from the reflected lantern flame. ‘Well, well, well, the famous Father Christmas! Global celebrity! The most popular person in the world. And yet, here you are. On Christmas Eve. In a rabbit hutch. Under the ground. I’m guessing you won’t be so popular tomorrow, will you? When all those excited children wake up early and open their limp little stockings to see nothing but – well – nothing. You
’ll be the most unpopular man of all time.’
‘Why are you doing this? I have never done anything to you. I have never even thought of you.’
The Easter Bunny closed his eyes suddenly as if he’d been slapped. ‘Never even thought of me? Of course not. The arrogance of Christmas right there. The arrogance of humans. Well, let me tell you, you don’t think about us because we are like Easter itself. We are too complicated for your simple brain. You want toys and shiny baubles and annoying songs. We are rabbits. We believe in the complexity of life. We believe in art. And we will fight for it. And you don’t think of us because you don’t understand us. It’s just the way everyone always wanted it. Keep the rabbits underground. Out of sight. Out of mind.’
Then Father Vodol stepped forwards. ‘And now it’s time for the humans to be underground. To be out of sight and out of mind.’
He stroked his beard as if it were a cat. I suddenly thought of Captain Soot. I wondered if he was still in the house. I hoped he was safe. I wished I was with him.
‘Right now,’ continued Father Vodol, ‘right at this moment, at Really Quite Late in the Day, on Christmas Eve, the Toy Workshop is empty. All the workers have been told to leave. They are now in the village hall, where some senior generals in the Rabbit Army and some of my own journalists are explaining the situation.’
‘Explaining the situation?’ huffed Mary. ‘You mean lying?’
Father Vodol ignored her. ‘Now, talking of explaining the situation, we should say a little about your situation, shouldn’t we, Easter Bunny?’
But the Easter Bunny looked a little distant, and didn’t appear to be listening. He was busy comparing his grubby red army jacket with Father Christmas’s immaculate bright red coat. ‘It’s really red,’ he mumbled.
‘All right,’ snarled Father Vodol. ‘I’ll explain. You are now deep, deep under the ground. This is, apparently, the lowest part of the whole warren. Now, you see that tunnel over there?’ He pointed to one of the three tunnels that led here.
