A extract from my upcoming novel

Chapter One

The Hilarious Physics Lesson

Kevin Snowdon was a man of science. He was a man of fact, of systems and methods and procedures he could follow to the letter. He loved nothing more than a really juicy physics equation, which was why he was a physics teacher. He worked at his local high school in New York, where he lived with his wife, Jane, and their three adorable children: Holly, Michael, and Nicky.

At twelve years old, Holly was the eldest of the three, and she loved Christmas as much as her dad loved physics. Michael (who was eight) loved to wind up his younger brother, Nicky, who was only five years old. Nicky loved having a cuddle with his parents, and still took his comfort blanket with him wherever he went (which, of course, was one of the things Michael made fun of).

Life with the Snowdons was always busy, and quite often downright chaotic, but Kevin loved his family and loved his life. The only thing he didn’t love was Christmas; let’s just say he didn’t share his family’s enthusiasm for the festive season.

He just didn’t understand the appeal, or how long and drawn-out the holiday season had become. These days, people started putting up decorations as soon as the turkey had been eaten at Thanksgiving (and sometimes even before that, if it was a big enough turkey). Christmas songs bombarded his ears from every direction before he’d even turned his desk calendar over to December, and don’t even get him started on the stores: they’d been stocking Christmas crackers and giant, novelty stockings for what felt like months already.

There was one thing, however, that Kevin enjoyed about this time of year: after Thanksgiving, the Snowdon family would always head off on a week’s skiing holiday at a beautiful ski resort in Montreal. It was a stunning place, with all the facilities you could ever want, from a ski school for the kids (although, Kevin had to admit, it had come in handy for him over the years too) to an amazing spa that allowed Kevin to really relax (and forget, if only for a moment, about all the upcoming Christmas madness that would start once he got home).

The only bad thing about the holiday was that it took a five-hour drive to get there (which, with three children in the back seat, could be more than a little taxing) as Kevin was afraid of flying and refused to go anywhere further away. Every year his wife tried to convince him to get on a plane, and every year he said no. If humans were meant to fly, he would say, then why hadn’t God given them wings? This always made his children laugh.

It was Kevin’s last day at work before the Christmas holidays, and apart from all the completely over-the-top Christmas decorations he’d seen on several houses on the way to school, as well as the endless stream of Christmas songs on the radio, he was in a good mood. He was in such a good mood, in fact, that he decided to open a debate at the end of his physics lesson, a debate about his least-favourite subject.

“As you know,” he announced loudly to the class, waking up at least two students who’d fallen asleep at their desks, “it will soon be Christmas, and as this is my last lecture before the break, I thought we should make our lesson a little…what shall we say?... festive.” There were murmurs of surprise at these words, and Kevin nodded. “I want to ask you all a simple question,” he continued. “Who here believes in Santa Claus?”

He got the reaction he expected: the whole class immediately started laughing. Well, the whole class apart from a boy called Alfie, anyway. Not only did Alfie not laugh, he even put up his hand, not at all self-conscious about admitting his belief in front of his peers. Kevin tried to hide a smile; part of him was impressed at Alfie’s guts, and even more so when Doug (the class bully) threw a paper plane at Alfie’s head. The boy didn’t even flinch.

Alfie was well-known for being a bit of an oddball, though that was a bit of an understatement. He was short and skinny and had an unusually high voice, which was more than enough reason for the others to pick on him, but on top of all that he had a peculiar habit of always wearing a woolly hat, even in the summer. It was green with a white trim and bobble, and Alfie never, ever took it off.

This, of course, had led to some of the students making bets as to why he wore that ridiculous hat all year-round: perhaps he was bald, perhaps he had horns growing from his scalp, perhaps he’d accidentally glued the hat onto his head and now had to wear it forever.

Yes, Doug was one of those typical high school jocks. Good looking, athletic, and popular, he knew he was top dog around here, and he also knew the only way to stay top dog was by picking on nerdy kids like Alfie.

Kevin didn’t like it, and although he had no control over what Doug did most of the time, at least he could keep it under control in his classroom. “Doug!” he called out. “Pick up that piece of paper right now or you’ll be having detention all through the holidays!”

Begrudgingly, Doug did as he was told, and Kevin once more addressed the class. “Can anyone, other than Alfie, give me a scientific reason as to why you don’t believe in Santa Claus?”

This resulted in more laughter from the class, but no one wanted to answer, and Kevin pointed at the resident jock. “Doug? Your thoughts?”

“Well, it’s impossible, isn’t it?” He laughed, looking pointedly at Alfie. “How can one man fly around the entire world, delivering presents to millions of children, all in one night?” He shrugged. “And just how fast are his reindeer meant to be, anyway? I can’t really see them flying alongside a jumbo jet, can you?” With this he held up another paper plane he’d made from a page of his exercise book. Kevin thought it was the most use his book had got all week.

The class laughed again, and Kevin walked over to his desk, perching thoughtfully on the edge. “Actually, Doug, Santa has a little more time than that; with all the different time zones in the world, he actually has thirty-one hours, assuming he travels from East to West, which would be the logical thing to do.” Kevin smiled; he loved logic, and anything he could apply it to. “But you’re right about all the children. Let’s work out how many he’d actually have to visit, shall we?”

The students groaned at this, most of them suddenly realising their teacher was shoehorning maths into what they’d hoped would be a bit of a ‘blow off’ class.

Ignoring their sounds of indignation, Kevin stood up and walked over to the blackboard, picking up a stub of white chalk. “Right,” he said as he started writing numbers on the coal black surface. “There are currently around 1.9 billion children in the world, ‘children’ here meaning anyone under the age of 18. That’s a lot of ground to cover, but let’s break it down. As we all know,” and he tried not to laugh here, “Santa only delivers presents to children who believe in his existence, so let’s say we divide this number by half. We can also assume that anyone under the age of four won’t understand the concept of Santa at all, and that even if these children did believe in him at some point, by the time they’ve got to high school their beliefs have probably vanished.” He resisted the urge to turn around and look at Alfie; he didn’t want Doug to start pelting him with paper again. “Also, we need only look at Christian religions, so that rules out another third of the population.”

He wrote a number on the board and turned around to face the class. To his surprise, they actually looked pretty interested, even Doug. “So, we’re left with three hundred million children.”

Alfie put his hand up at that, and Kevin nodded at him to speak. “Sir, what about the naughty list?”

Kevin’s mouth twitched as the rest of the class started laughing again. He was determined to keep a professional stance, however, at least while he was at work. “Yes, Alfie? What about it?”

“Well, Santa doesn’t deliver presents to kids on the naughty list.”

Kevin pretended to think about this for a moment, keeping one eye on Doug in case he showed signs of carrying out any more airborne paper attacks. “Good point, Alfie. So, if we say that… what? One in five children are on the naughty list? If so, that still leaves Santa with… two hundred and forty million presents to deliver in thirty-one hours. Can anyone work out how many that is per second?”

Alfie immediately raised his hand, and when he answered, “Two thousand, one hundred and fifty,” Kevin was impressed. To be able to do that kind of mental maths (and so quickly) was almost unheard of.

“Good work,” Kevin praised, hoping his encouragement would make Alfie feel at least a little bit better about being laughed at. “So, do we all agree that it would be an impossible task?” He aimed this question at Alfie, thinking he’d be the only person to answer anyway.

“Yes,” said Alfie, “it would be impossible, Sir, but as Einstein taught us, time is only relative to speed.”

The class groaned at the word Einstein, Doug more so than the others. Apparently the scientist’s name had reminded them all they were in school, where they were meant to learn things.

“Go on,” said Kevin, intrigued as to where Alfie was going with this; the kid never failed to say something fascinating. Or just downright strange.

“Well, you’re assuming Santa’s working in the same time dimension to the rest of the world. What if he wasn’t?” Alfie shrugged. “If he was working at a different speed of time, the thirty-one hours wouldn’t apply to him. And anyway,” he added, looking a little smug now, “Santa doesn’t just deliver presents to Christian religions; he delivers to any child who believes in him. And the naughty to nice ratio is probably more like one in twenty, not one in five.” He laughed. “Just how naughty do you think children are?”

By now Kevin was trying very hard not to laugh; this was by far the most bizarre discussion he’d ever had at school (including when he was a student himself, oh so many years ago). Alfie certainly was a character, though Kevin found himself impressed at how he’d used Einstein’s theory of relativity. When most of the children in his class thought of Einstein, they pictured a man with ‘crazy hair’ sticking his tongue out; they wouldn’t know E=mc² if the formula hit them over the head, like Doug throwing one of his paper planes.

Which was exactly what he was doing now. “Hey, peanut head,” he called at Alfie, “how does he fly around the world, then? I have never seen any flying reindeer, have you? Do they have turbo engines strapped to their backs?"

Remaining calm as always in the face of such annoying bullying, Alfie turned around and shrugged his shoulders. “For your information, it doesn’t matter if you’ve seen ‘anything like that’ or not; there are still about five hundred thousand species of living organisms yet to be classified in the world. Just because you haven’t seen something, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” With that, Alfie reached up to adjust his hat. There was a moment of complete silence while the rest of the class waited to see if he was going to take it off, and when he didn’t, they all leaned back in their chairs, shaking their heads.

“And how does he get into all the houses?” Doug asked, clearly not wanting to let this go. “Because the chimney thing makes no sense – he’s too fat to fit!”

Alfie just shook his head in response, clearly not wanting to dignify Doug’s question with an answer, but Doug’s question made Kevin remember a strange story he’d heard on the news the year before. Until now, he’d completely forgotten about it.

Last Christmas, a boy from London had found a key outside his front door, and he’d soon realised that this key could open every door on his street. He took a video of himself using the key in several different houses, and it quickly went viral on Facebook, getting well over a million views. Of course, most people thought it was a hoax, done in conjunction with his neighbours. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much the boy could do about the non-believers, as after sleeping that night with the key under his pillow, he woke up the next morning to find it had stopped working. Kevin remembered all the news outlets had called it ‘A Christmas Miracle’.

More like ‘A Christmas Prank’ Kevin had thought at the time, even though the boy’s neighbours had all sworn that the key was real and had worked, for one day at least.

“What about it, Alfie?” Doug pressed, bringing Kevin out of his thoughts. “How does Santa get in? Because technically what he’s doing is breaking and entering. I’m amazed he doesn’t get arrested every Christmas Eve!”

Kevin was now in complete danger of laughing out loud and losing any professional respect he’d somehow managed to gain with these kids over the past semester. Luckily for him, however, the bell went just then and the children left, laughing and talking excitedly about their holiday plans.

Once they were gone, all Kevin could think of was Alfie’s theory about Santa working in a different time dimension. He didn’t know where that boy got his ideas from, but he was certain of one thing: if Santa did have a naughty list, Doug’s name would be at the top.

With that thought, Kevin chuckled as he grabbed his things and left the classroom.

Finally! It was time to relax.



Chapter Two

The Big Announcement

The Snowdons’ household was nothing short of chaotic at Thanksgiving, with kids running around everywhere, Jane trying to keep on top of everything in the kitchen, whilst Kevin’s father (‘Grandpa’, who joined them every Thanksgiving) wandered around aimlessly. It was like a scene from an old Wild West movie. Kevin felt like he was the Sherriff as he tried to control the madness. All he needed was a shiny gold ‘Sherriff’ badge to help command some respect, not that he thought it would really make much of a difference.

Right now, Jane was busy preparing Thanksgiving dinner, while Michael was explaining why he’d been in a fight at school. Yes, it was definitely the Wild West around here.

“It wasn’t my fault, Mum,” said Michael. “The other boys were teasing me, saying I was a baby because I was writing a letter to Santa!”

His mind flashing back to Alfie, Kevin walked over to his son and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry about it, champ,” he said cheerfully, “by doing that they’ve just made Santa’s naughty list. They won’t tease you after you get lots of presents and they end up with a sack full of coal, will they?”

He winked at his wife, who smiled back at him gratefully; she knew how much he hated talking about Christmas, after all.

“Yes, Michael, your father’s right,” Grandpa added. “Just stay on the nice list and you’ll be fine.” He grinned. Unlike Kevin, Grandpa loved Christmas, and he loved spending the holidays with his family, especially since Kevin’s mother had sadly passed away a few years before. Grandpa particularly enjoyed the anticipation that was always in the air at Thanksgiving, with the family always so excited to be going away skiing the next day.

Just then the house phone rang and Jane answered, struggling to hear the caller while the kids – or little bandits, as Kevin was now thinking of them – ran around the kitchen playing tag.

“Will you all please be quiet?” Jane shouted, before focusing back on the phone call. She nodded a couple of times, made some ‘oh’ noises, and then turned to her husband. “It’s the travel agent. There’s been an avalanche at the Montreal ski resort so they’re cancelling all guest arrivals. We can’t go.”

“You’re joking!” Kevin replied, a little too loudly. “What are we meant to do now?”

Jane spoke into the phone, listening for a while before asking the caller to hold on. Then, placing the receiver against her shoulder, she explained the situation to her husband. “They have a sister hotel, The Crazy Reindeer. They can book us in there if we’re happy to switch?” Kevin nodded, though a little reluctantly, and Jane lifted the receiver back to her mouth. “Yes, we’ll take it,” she replied. “I’ll make the payment now.”

As Kevin wandered off to round up his little bandits ready for dinner, he vaguely wondered why Jane needed to make a payment when everything was already paid for. It was something he completely forgot about, however, as the two older bandits ran straight into him during their game of tag.

***

That evening, after everyone had eaten far too much turkey, far too many yams, and more than enough pumpkin pie to last a lifetime, Jane stood up from the table to make an announcement. “Now children,” she said excitedly, winking at Kevin, “I have a wonderful surprise for you.”

She immediately got everyone’s attention, and clearly satisfied by the looks of anticipation on her children’s faces, she went on. “We can’t go to our usual ski resort this year.”

Before she could get another word out, there was a chorus of groans from around the table. Even Grandpa looked disappointed, and he never even went on the trip.

“Hang on, there’s more,” she said, grinning, and Kevin wondered why she was making such a big deal of them switching hotels.

Then, remembering her words about making a payment, he suddenly sat up straight, trying to ignore his gurgling stomach as he focused on his wife.

“They’ve transferred us to their sister hotel, The Crazy Reindeer.”

Jane was met with several blank faces, and although she clearly wanted to drag this out more and really pique their interest, instead she just blurted out, “We’re going to Lapland!”

There was absolute silence for a moment while everyone took this in. Had Kevin heard her correctly? “Lapland?” he repeated in a deadpan voice.

“That’s right!” Jane beamed. “The home of Santa Claus!”

At those words the table erupted as three overexcited children started screaming and jumping up and down.

“Lapland?” was all Kevin could say, his face now paler than Jane had ever seen it.

“Yes, Kevin, Lapland,” his wife repeated, rolling her eyes. “It’s at the top of Finland, in Europe.”

“I know where it is!” he responded, trying and failing to keep the fear out of his voice. “I also know you have to fly there! Which is something I simply cannot do!”

Realising her husband was starting to get a little hysterical, Jane walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Of course you can, darling,” she whispered. “Just look at how excited the kids are!”

Kevin groaned; they did look incredibly excited, and he didn’t want to be the one to crush their dreams. He just wished his wife had told him about it earlier. He felt blindsided, winded, and even a little sick (although, he thought, that was probably down to the two slices of pumpkin pie he’d had on top of everything else).

“Come on, children,” said Grandpa, who’d been watching his son and who thought he might need some time to digest the news, “how about I tell you all a special Christmas story?”

Smiling, the children followed their grandfather into the lounge while Kevin and Jane stayed behind to clear everything up.

“Why is it special?” asked Holly.

“Well,” said Grandpa, raising his eyebrows as though he were about to impart some great secret knowledge, “it’s special because it’s the story of how Santa first started delivering presents. We’ll go right back to the start, what do you think?”

He chuckled as he was greeted with three smiling, nodding heads, though some were smiling more than others, he noticed; Nicky was clearly game, but Holly and Michael looked like… well, like they were just being polite. He’d seen these expressions before (like they were tired of hearing Grandpa’s long, boring stories) but this time, he thought he’d get a slightly different reaction.

He wandered off for a minute, and when he returned he was clutching a large, dusty old book, one that looked like it belonged in a museum, or perhaps on a pirate ship somewhere. The children immediately became more interested. After all, when Grandpa usually told one of his stories he would just sit there and make it up as he went along. So what was this book? And what wonders did it hold?

“Right,” he said as he sat down in his favourite armchair, close to the fire, “this is how it all began.” And as the three children settled down in front of him (Nicky holding onto his comfort blanket, as usual) he started to read.



Chapter Three

Grandpa’s Special Story

It all began 1,600 years ago in a small village in Eastern Turkey.

There lived a bishop named St Nicholas, who devoted his life to the Christian church, helping and caring for all in his community. A carpenter by trade, he used to make wooden toys throughout the year to give to the poor children on Christmas Day. He wanted to celebrate the birth of Jesus, and what better way to celebrate a birth than to have presents?

Wanting to be a part of this great tradition, the local community soon joined in to help St Nicholas, and before long, they were able to give a gift to every child in the village. It was always a happy and much anticipated day, as the children never knew who made these toys, or where they even came from; this created a sense of magic and mystery about the tradition that grew bigger and bigger as time went on. The toys getting bigger and more elaborate each year, and although St Nicholas was more than pleased with his work, after a while he decided he wanted to do more.

So one day he decided to spread his tradition further afield, his goal being to eventually spread it across the entire world. An impossible dream perhaps, but St Nicholas believed anything was possible.

Before leaving, he asked the local community to continue on with the tradition while he was gone, to ensure no child went without a present. He also reminded them that they must never tell the children where the presents came from; after all, it was all part of the magic.

And so it was that St Nicholas set about his travels with just a few extra clothes and a large cart full of toys. He travelled from village to village, and after finding somewhere to ‘set up shop’, he would stay there for an entire year, making toys and delivering them on Christmas Day before leaving for pastures new, the tradition being left behind as a legacy. His journey never stopped, and he always travelled north, following the brightest star in all the night sky, never wavering from its path.

St Nicholas soon found that the further north he travelled, the colder the weather became, and several times at the height of winter, he had to stop his journey as his horse was simply unable to pull the cart through the heavy snow. As the years went by and he got further and further north, this started to become a big problem; how could he continue on his mission when he couldn’t even continue on the snow?

St Nicholas had begun to notice that many of the locals didn’t use horses; instead they used reindeer to pull their carts. The reindeer had thicker fur coats, which could withstand the cold winter temperatures, and it wasn’t carts with wheels they were pulling but carts with skis. This made much more sense in the snow, as they glided along far easier through the rough, frosty terrain. With these things in mind he redesigned his cart, turning it into a sleigh, and then traded in his horse for two reindeer, leaving his trusted companion behind for a well-deserved rest. It was sad to say goodbye, but St Nicholas knew it would be worth it. Just think of all the children he could reach now! The world was his oyster.

As he continued on his journey northwards, this time much faster than before, St Nicholas started to notice that the villages were getting further and further apart from each other; it was taking him longer and longer to find the little pockets of civilisation, hidden in between the long stretches of silent snow.

One year, he managed to travel for three whole months without seeing even a single soul; eventually he found a small village. After completing his mission, St Nicolas was warned by the villagers not to continue any further north. When he asked why, they told him their village was the most northern village on Earth and that he wouldn't find any more people living further north, certainly not children, anyway.

St Nicholas, however, had other ideas. He felt it was his destiny to keep on going. He was searching for something, and even though he didn’t know what that something was, he did know this wasn’t going to be the end of the road.

He realised it was going to be a long and treacherous journey ahead, so he wanted to be well prepared, and with the help of some of the locals, he gathered enough food and water to last him for six months.

He thought that should be enough. Well, it had to be enough; he couldn’t carry any more with him. He’d already had to make the sleigh much bigger to accommodate all the supplies and, therefore, he needed more reindeer to pull it. A local farmer, who had become his friend during his stay, generously donated six extra reindeer from his farm, something St Nicholas was more than grateful for. Of course, this also meant that as well as being able to carry a heavier load, St Nicholas would be able to travel faster and through much thicker snow. Nothing could stop him now.

At least, that’s what he hoped. No, more than that: it’s what he believed in his heart.

As St Nicholas continued on his journey north, the days got shorter and the nights grew darker. It was cold and it was lonely, but at least he still had his reindeer for company, as well as that bright star, shining comfortingly down at him. Whenever he felt tired or a little bit sad, he would look at that star and know he was doing the right thing.

He travelled onwards for six months, and he hadn’t come across even one sign of civilisation. By now he’d gone past the point of no return; if he turned back, he would never survive the journey. He’d been rationing his food and water well, and estimated he could probably survive another couple of weeks before running out of supplies completely.

A few weeks later, the conditions had grown a lot worse, and for the first time in his many years of heading north, St Nicholas began to lose his faith, regretting not having turned around earlier in his journey. Had he unwittingly sent himself into the wilderness to starve? Never to be found again? And what would become of his poor reindeer? At this point he felt very low, and very lonely indeed.

Feeling both mentally and physically exhausted, he decided to stop for a few days, hoping the weather would improve and giving his reindeer a chance to rest. He ate what little he had left, and was just staring at his (much emptier) sleigh in despair when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye: a strange, dancing glow.

Looking up, he was amazed to see some bright red and green lights hovering in the sky, flickering merrily in the distance. He’d never seen anything like it before, and he stared at them for several minutes, completely awestruck. He thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek as he gazed at the strange, dazzling light show.

What could this wondrous spectacle be if not a sign from God, urging him to continue? Urging him onwards, towards his destiny? It simply had to be!

So, with a new-found sense of purpose, St Nicholas stood up, prepared his sleigh, and continued northwards, travelling towards where the lights seemed to be coming from.

Eventually, he found himself at the edge of a large, frozen lake, and upon seeing this beautiful and enchanting place, St Nicholas knew he was extremely close to finding the thing he’d been searching for all these years.

Suddenly, whilst he was still admiring the magical lights above the lake, the wind started to pick up, the start of what St Nicholas guessed would be a large snowstorm. The reindeer were spooked and, before he knew it, they were speeding along the frozen lake at speeds he’d never travelled before. He didn’t even know it was possible to go so fast in a sleigh!

For a few wonderful moments, he revelled in excitement as he felt the wind on his face, but soon he realised they were heading for the trees. They were going to crash! St Nicholas tried everything he could to make the reindeer slow down, but it was too late.

As he closed his eyes and prayed to God, waiting for the inevitable, he thought of all those children he hadn’t yet reached, all those children who didn’t know the joy of receiving an unexpected present on Christmas Day, and perhaps now never would. He was so sure it had been his purpose, so sure he was going to be able to reach every single child in the world, and this was how it was going to end? He couldn’t believe it.

He kept his eyes shut as he waited for the impact, but when he realised nothing was happening and he opened his eyes again, he saw he was no longer on the ground; instead, he was travelling high above the trees, flying above the twinkling white landscape below. It was a miracle!

It may have been a miracle, but it was also highly unexpected, and before St Nicholas could even smile in delight and relief, he found his vision getting darker. His eyes closing again, this time of their own accord, he slumped back against his seat, collapsing in the sleigh.

When he woke up, both the reindeer and the sleigh were back on the ground, plodding along slowly, and the lights in the sky were now brighter and more vibrant than ever.

A now incredibly groggy St Nicholas sat up, rubbing at his eyes as he looked at his surroundings. Had he imagined soaring high above the ground? He supposed he must have.

Far into the distance, Nicholas could see what looked like a village. Finally, after all those long, lonely months, he’d found signs of life! He was saved!

It took him several more hours to get there, but he didn’t care; as long as there was somewhere to get to, he was more than happy.

As he started to get closer, the village seemed to get bigger and bigger, with St Nicholas soon realising this was the biggest village he’d ever come across. It was the strangest one too; the houses were unlike anything he’d ever seen before. They were all very small and very compact, and crafted beautifully out of wood. The detail was so intricate he couldn’t help but stare at every lovely building he passed. The doors and windows seemed very small indeed.

He also passed a sign, stating the name of the village: in delicate red and green letters were written the words ‘North Pole’.

As he made his way through the village some of the locals came out to greet him, and though at first St Nicholas thought they were children, on closer inspection he realised they were actually small adults.

He pulled up, making the reindeer stop, and as he got out from his sleigh the villagers gathered around, smiling excitedly at their new visitor. Seeing their visitor looking slightly worse for wear, they immediately took him into one of the little houses, sitting him in front of a roaring fire and giving him some much appreciated food and drink while he told them all about his journey to the North Pole. He savoured each bite of his hearty meal, which was followed up by the most delicious hot cocoa he’d ever tasted.

The villagers hung off his every word. By their own admission they’d never left the village before and were fascinated to learn all about the world outside of their existence. In turn, they told St Nicholas all about their lives at the North Pole. He listened eagerly, gladly accepting a second mug of steaming cocoa from his new friends.

The locals were a tribe that called themselves ‘Elves’. They didn't know how old they were, or how long they’d been there. In fact, they didn't seem to have any concept of time whatsoever. St Nicholas listened intensely, wanting to learn all about the way they lived their lives. Their story sounded incredible to him, but then again, didn’t his own story sound incredible to them too?

Several hours later they were still talking, and St Nicholas suddenly noticed that where there should have been the pale glow of the rising sun peeping over the horizon, it was still dark. He asked the Elves why it hadn’t got light yet, and they explained to him that it stayed dark, day after day, for around a thousand sleeps at a time, before it would get light again. Then, when it was light, it would stay light for another thousand sleeps before getting dark again. They said this casually, as though it was nothing to be concerned about, as though there was nothing unusual about it at all.

St Nicholas soon came to realise that these long periods of light and dark were, in fact, days and nights in the rest of the world, but at the North Pole time passed by at a different speed. They were living in some kind of parallel time phenomenon; each normal day (as St Nicholas knew it) was, in fact, two thousand days in the North Pole. How remarkable! St Nicholas shook his head in wonder. Just think how much he could get done in a single day if each day lasted two thousand times longer! It boggled the mind.

Now feeling more excited than ever, St Nicholas explained to the Elves all about the tradition he’d been spreading on his journey to the North Pole, how he made toys to give to children to celebrate the birth of Jesus. To his amazement, not only had the Elves never heard of Jesus, but they also didn’t know what children were.

That’s when it hit him: the Elf tribe had been living at the North Pole for thousands of years but had barely aged at all, and had therefore long forgotten ever being children themselves. Everyone who lived in this charming village had looked the same for as long as anyone could remember. No one was ever born and no one ever got old. They just all lived very long and peaceful lives.

As he sat back in a comfy chair and warmed his hands by the fire, St Nicholas’s mind was filled with strange and wonderful thoughts. He could definitely get used to the North Pole.

The Elves welcomed their new friend, and soon St Nicholas was a part of the village, helping out around the place and doing what jobs he could for his food and board. Days turned into weeks (at least, as St Nicholas still thought of them) and weeks turned into months, and the darkness started burrowing its way under his skin.

He loved the North Pole, and he was very grateful for all the help he’d received, but he was starting to find the Elves’ existence rather mundane. They did the exact same things every day and they just didn’t seem to have any kind of purpose in life. With the difference in time, they just lived at a leisurely pace, a pace St Nicholas simply couldn’t get used to. He was itching to get going on his mission, itching to carry on with his journey.

Then, one day, St Nicholas had an idea. With an entire village of Elves at his disposal, and two thousand North Pole days to every normal day, they could really do something: they could make enough toys for almost every child in the entire world to enjoy at Christmas. It was the perfect set-up, if St Nicholas could work it all out, and if the Elves would get on board.

The biggest challenge was how they were actually going to deliver the presents. St Nicholas thought back to his experience back at the lake, when his reindeer had flown over the trees, something he now very much believed had happened after all. If time was two thousand times slower in the North Pole, then in theory everything they did was two thousand times faster in relation to the rest of the world. So, if his reindeer normally plodded along pulling his sleigh at a moderate ten kilometres per hour, they would actually be travelling at twenty thousand kilometres per hour. If you were to travel at such enormous speeds, gravity would become non-existent and you would take off and fly. It had clearly happened to him before, and he could make it happen again.

So, St Nicholas tested out his theory, and was delighted to find it worked. With a plan now formulated in his mind, he started building a much bigger and better sleigh, one that could carry a larger load over a longer distance, before setting all the Elves to work making the toys. They were more than happy to have something to do.

That year, with a lot of careful planning and a lot of hard work and time (though not time as most people knew it), St Nicholas managed to achieve his lifelong dream of giving every child in the entire world a present at Christmas. It filled his soul with happiness to think of those children on Christmas morning, their eyes bright with wonder and surprise as they opened their much-appreciated gift. Yes, it had very much been worth the wait.

That first journey out of the North Pole was to be the first of many, and St Nicholas has delivered presents to every good child across the world ever since.

He found his purpose, just like he knew he would.

Chapter Four

Facing your Fears

The morning after Thanksgiving, the Snowdon children were up early, eager and excited about their trip to Lapland. On top of the anticipation of being in the ‘land of Christmas’, this was also going to be their first time flying in an aeroplane, and they couldn’t wait.

Kevin, however, was anything but excited. He’d flown before, but only once, and that had been enough for him. It had been a terrifying and turbulent journey, and Kevin still had nightmares about it even now. Of course, his idea of ‘terrifying and turbulent’ was slightly different to Jane’s, who’d found the whole flight pretty pleasant.

Either way, it had given him a deep-seated phobia of flying, and he was dreading every single second of their upcoming journey.

This was something the whole family (even Nicky) had noticed, and as they all had breakfast together Jane and Holly tried to reassure him that everything would be fine. Michael, on the other hand, thought it would be funnier to pretend to crash his little brother’s toy planes into his breakfast cereal.

Whipping his head around at his son, Kevin snapped, “Stop messing around with your food, or you won’t be going to Lapland at all!”

“Kevin!” his wife exclaimed, frowning, before turning to the children. “Why don’t you go upstairs and finish packing your hand luggage?” she suggested. “It’s nearly time to go!” She grinned at them as she said this, but the smile dropped right off her face as she looked back at her husband. “It’ll be alright, I promise. Come on, this will be such a good trip for the kids. Think of all the wonderful memories we’ll make!”

Kevin grunted, thinking of the ‘wonderful’ eight-hour flight he’d have to endure just to get to a holiday destination that was obsessed with Christmas. At least they’d be able to get some skiing in, and trying to focus on that, he got up to clear the breakfast table.

***

Sitting in the plane before take-off, Kevin was feeling (and looking) more and more agitated by the second.

“Why don’t you sit next to Holly?” Jane suggested, knowing the boys would be hard work during the flight.

He agreed, and once the plane had taken off (with Kevin gripping the arm rest for dear life the entire time), he finally started to relax a little as the plane glided smoothly through the air. Perhaps this was OK. Perhaps he could do this after all. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

A couple of hours into the flight, once the buzz and the excitement from the take-off had worn off, the children started to get bored. They were bickering and arguing with each other, and even little Nicky (sitting there with his comfort blanket over his lap) was being drawn into his siblings’ fights.

“Why don’t we have a drawing competition?” suggested Jane. “Your father can judge who’s drawn the best picture.”

The children eventually agreed to this plan, with Nicky drawing a picture of a racing car, Michael drawing an evil clown (very festive, Kevin thought to himself) and Holly drawing a picture of a reindeer.

“Dad, can we go and see the reindeer when we get there?” asked Holly as she handed Kevin her drawing. “I’d love to see them in real life, up close!”

“Maybe,” Kevin replied, rather reluctantly. He hadn’t really planned on doing anything Christmassy at all during the holiday. This was meant to be a skiing trip, after all, and he had no desire to sit around, feeling merry. Ugh, what a horrible thought!

At least the flight seemed to be going well, or that’s what Kevin thought until the aeroplane suddenly began to judder, making him jump.

Tired from all the excitement, the children had now fallen asleep, and even Jane was dozing in her seat. Kevin was the only Snowdon who was awake, and he looked around with wide eyes as the ‘fasten seat belt’ signs lit up and the plane began to bump around more aggressively. Now really beginning to panic, Kevin said a quiet prayer to himself.

“Dear God, please keep my family and I safe. Please don’t let anything happen to the plane, and please let us get to Lapland in one piece; I’ll even try and embrace Christmas, I promise!” This last statement was pure desperation, and as soon as he said it he regretted it, but praying at least seemed to ease his anguish and, before long, he soon forgot all about the turbulence. He just hoped none of his dozing family members had heard his little promise to the man upstairs.

This got Kevin thinking… the entire class had laughed at Alfie when he’d said he believed in Santa Claus, yet most of the class believed in God without question, and nobody would ever think of laughing at them for that! So why was the belief in Santa Claus so different? Delivering presents to every child in one night was actually a far more conceivable task than creating the entire world in seven days, yet for some reason, a young adult believing in Santa Claus just wasn’t socially acceptable. He chuckled to himself; now he was beginning to sound like Alfie.

Just then, Kevin’s thoughts were interrupted by the pilot, announcing that the plane was beginning to descend, ready for landing. Kevin cheered internally; despite feeling better since his little prayer, he still couldn’t wait to get his feet back on solid ground.

Looking out the window for the first time since taking off (he hadn’t dared to before), Kevin was mesmerised by what he saw; the whole ground was completely covered in thick, white snow, glistening under a night sky that was illuminated by spectacular green and red swirls of light. He’d seen pictures of the Northern Lights before, but seeing them for himself was a truly incredible experience. He felt very lucky indeed, and more than grateful for his family for pushing him (quite literally) onto this flight.

In that moment, Kevin knew this was going to be a holiday they would all remember for the rest of their lives.

He just didn’t realise quite how memorable it would turn out to be for him.



Chapter Five

The Crazy Reindeer

It was snowing heavily as they caught the shuttle bus from the airport, and the children glanced out the windows in awe at the winter wonderland they’d suddenly found themselves in. They’d never seen such snow in their lives; even when it snowed at home, it was mostly a light dusting, that quickly turned into a brown sludgy mess, especially as they lived in the city. Out here, with the endless fields covered in a thick bright white blanket of snow, it seemed like a whole different world.

Even Kevin had to admit the landscape was pretty, though he’d never say that to his family. He just wanted to relax, do some skiing, and get through the holiday with as little festive cheer as possible. That wasn’t asking too much, was it?

Once the family had checked into The Crazy Reindeer hotel, which was a large and beautiful structure decorated, unsurprisingly, like a huge log cabin at Christmas, they were invited to attend a welcome meeting run by the tour operator.

This was held in the main lobby, which was decked out in far more holiday decorations than Kevin could handle: there was tinsel and glitter everywhere, not to mention all the streamers and toy reindeer of varying sizes, and to top it all off, the biggest Christmas tree he’d ever seen, which dominated everything else in the lobby. Kevin actually couldn’t see where it ended, and he had a brief (but funny) vision of the top branches poking out of a hole in the hotel roof, them having miscalculated the size of the enormous tree.

Jane nudged Kevin, bringing him out of his tree-related daydream, and he tried to focus on what the tour operator was saying. Apparently, as well as all the usual skiing activities, there were also some more festive trips that could be booked for later in the week, trips that were always popular, especially at this time of year, so early booking was vital. Kevin ignored that last part.

When the meeting ended, he was immediately bombarded with requests from his children.

“Can we go to Santa Land, Dad? Please, can we?” begged little Nicky.

“The snowmobiles sound pretty cool,” suggested Michael.

“I want to go to the reindeer safari,” demanded Holly.

“Woah, hold up,” said Kevin, who could already feel a bit of a headache coming on (one of his ‘festive headaches’). “We’re here to ski, and so ski we shall.” And with that he went over to the operator to book an entire week of ski school for everyone.

“It’s so unfair,” Michael groaned as he watched his dad, “we never get to do what we want!” He was looking up at his mum with wide eyes and a pout, and she laughed in response.

“I’m sorry, darling. I’ll try and convince him.”

***

Jane did try and convince Kevin, and it only took three days of near-constant nagging before he gave in and agreed to take the family to a Christmas market (but only if they didn’t stay very long, and only if he didn’t have to actually participate in anything even remotely festive while he was there).

The market was just as Christmassy as the children had hoped (and just as Christmassy as Kevin had feared), with stalls offering mulled wine or hot berry juice, and delicate twinkling fairy lights strung up over all the little huts, creating a magical wonderland feel as they walked around.

Jane was enjoying looking at all the stalls, while Kevin was just trying to keep an eye on his kids, hoping they’d be ready to leave soon.

They were all standing in front of the third Christmas Cookie stand they’d come across when a little old lady approached them. She was leaning on a rather unique-looking walking stick, made of knobbly wood and decorated in red and green glitter.

“Would you like to go and see Santa?” she asked the children, smiling widely.

“No!” replied Kevin, a little too loudly, before anyone else even had a chance to respond. “I mean, we don’t have time,” he continued. “We only have two days of skiing left!”

Nicky pulled on his dad’s sleeve. “Please can we, Dad? Oh, please?”

Looking down at his son’s wide eyes and his pout (he was getting rather good at the pout), Kevin’s resolve nearly crumbled, but then he shook himself, reminding himself of how much he hated Christmas. Waiting in line for hours and hours just to enter a tiny little grotto really didn’t appeal. “I’m sorry, Nicky, but the answer’s no.”

Nicky’s face dropped, and Jane put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Seemingly ignoring this exchange, the little old lady turned to Holly. “How about you, my dear? Would you like to go and see the reindeer?”

Holly paused before answering. “Sorry, our dad won’t let us,” she replied, shrugging. “He doesn't like any Christmassy things.”

“I want to see Santa!” Nicky suddenly cried, starting to have a temper tantrum in the middle of the street. He was waving his comfort blanket in the air, as though trying to signal a plane in to land.

“Right!” Kevin shouted, trying to regain control of the situation. “That’s enough! We’re all going back to the hotel.” By now he was in a complete huff, and he was starting to wish he’d never brought them to the Christmas market in the first place.

Reluctantly, the Snowdon family started walking off, Jane giving an apologetic smile to the little old lady before turning to face Kevin. “You’re not being fair on the children,” she replied, shaking her head at him in disappointment. “This is their vacation too.”

Back at the hotel, Jane (who wasn’t really speaking to Kevin) put the children to bed, while Kevin went to the hotel bar. He needed a beer, and after the first beer he decided he needed a second. During his third he started chatting to the barman, and now that he was more relaxed, Kevin realised just how unreasonable he’d been. As he sipped on the foamy liquid, he began to feel rather guilty.

“You can still put things right,” suggested the barman, smiling as he wiped down the counter. Kevin thought he must have to put up with this kind of thing a lot, though he seemed happy enough to listen to his woes.

After finishing his beer, Kevin made a decision: rather than going skiing the next day, he would surprise everyone by booking the trip to see Santa Claus instead. He could just picture the looks on their faces, especially on little Nicky’s, that pout of his turning into a wide, wonderful smile. It was going to be brilliant.

“Thank you,” he told the bartender as he stood up. “I owe you one.”

***

The next morning, Kevin got up especially early and went down to the hotel lobby to see the concierge. “I need five tickets for today’s Santa tour, please,” he said brightly.

Yes, he was definitely doing the right thing. After this, his children were going to absolutely love him. He’d seen a ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug in the gift shop, and after this, he wouldn’t be surprised if they bought it him as a thank you gift. As he retrieved his wallet out of his pocket, he smiled to himself smugly.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but we’re fully booked until next week,” the concierge replied.

Kevin’s smug smile immediately disappeared, as did any thoughts of getting the ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug. “Are you sure you can’t squeeze another family on board?” he pleaded, trying Nicky’s trick of the wide eyes and the pout. He thought, however, that it probably wouldn’t have quite the same effect coming from him, a grown man.

The concierge’s reply confirmed this. “Sorry, there’s nothing I can do. This close to Christmas, we get fully booked at the welcome meeting. That’s why they tell you not to delay.”

Sighing, Kevin went outside the front of the hotel and slumped down on one of the steps, sinking his head into his hands. He wasn’t the World’s Best Dad; he was the World’s Worst Dad. He laughed a little, wondering if they sold those mugs too.

After a few minutes, a shadow appeared over him, and when he looked up he was surprised to see the little old lady from the market, the one with the glittery, knobbly cane.

“Can I help you, my dear?” she asked him.

“Oh,” he said, surprised at her sudden appearance. “Yes, do you have any tickets left for the visit to Santa?” He wasn’t holding out much hope, but if you don’t ask, you don’t get, at least that’s what his father always told him (unfortunately, it was also what his father always told Kevin’s children, which had backfired very quickly and quite spectacularly).

“Of course, my dear,” replied the little old lady. “We can have you and your family picked up from here at noon today.”

“Really?” Kevin asked, smiling as he pictured the mug (the good one, not the bad one) in his mind again.

“Of course,” she replied, smiling. “It’ll be a trip of a lifetime.”

Feeling relieved, Kevin paid her for the tickets before rushing back inside to find his family. They were downstairs in the breakfast hall, and before Jane even had the chance to quiz Kevin on where he’d been, he announced his big surprise.

“Guess who’s going to see Santa today?” he asked, beaming at the children.

“Really?” asked Holly, with a sceptical look on her face.

“Where’s the catch?” asked Michael.

“Does that mean no more skiing?” asked Nicky, making both Jane and Kevin laugh.

“Yes, really, there’s no catch, and there’ll be no skiing today,” Kevin replied, winking at Jane as his kids started whooping and shouting in excitement.

Kevin grinned. That mug would be his in no time!



Chapter Six

Santa Tours

After breakfast, the excited Snowdons got ready for their trip to see Santa Claus, and were ready and waiting outside the hotel ten minutes before they were due to be picked up.

Kevin could feel the anticipation in the air, like electricity, and as he watched his children play games in the snow, smiling and laughing, he felt even better about his decision to book the trip. Jane was in a better mood too; she even held Kevin’s hand while they waited to be picked up, something that didn’t happen too often these days.

The excitement started to wane, as time passed and no one appeared.

It was now twenty past twelve and Jane was beginning to worry. “Why hasn’t the coach turned up?” she asked Kevin, with a slight tone of accusation in her voice. She’d stopped holding his hand several minutes before.

“Don’t worry; they’re probably just running late,” Kevin replied, trying to put her at ease. To be honest, he was trying to convince himself everything was OK too. Surely that sweet little old lady hadn’t swindled him? No, he told himself, shaking his head, that couldn’t be it.

At half-past twelve a coach finally arrived, and a steady stream of couples and families came out from the hotel and hopped on board. Relieved, Jane handed their tickets to the holiday rep and went to step up onto the coach.

“Wait a minute!” the rep called, stopping her in her tracks. “I’m sorry, but this is the Lapland Adventures coach,” she explained. “Your ticket is for a company called Santa Tours.” She gave Jane back the tickets so she could look at the name of the company. Sure enough, written there in black and white were the words ‘Santa Tours’.

“But our coach was meant to be here at noon,” Jane said, frowning as she looked at the tickets. “Kevin, go and speak to the concierge, see if you can sort this out,” she instructed as the Lapland Adventures coach headed off, leaving the Snowdon family behind. The children watched it go, clearly disappointed.

“Err, I didn't book the trip through the hotel concierge,” Kevin replied, guiltily. “It was that old lady from the market. The one with the cane.” He shrugged sheepishly. “The hotel said their tours were fully booked.”

Jane stared at him, her hands on her hips, and just as she was opening her mouth to argue (at least, that’s what Kevin assumed she was going to do), an old rickety minibus pulled up. It had ‘Santa Tours’ written on the side in red and green.

Kevin turned to Jane. “See? I told you everything would be fine,” he said, with a mixture of relief and anxiety worming its way through his body. He tried not to look too closely at the state of the rusty old minibus in front of them.

He also pretended not to notice that the door to the minibus opened with a rather worrying creaking sound. A moment later the little old lady from the market appeared, smiling down at them. She was grasping her glittery cane, something the children clearly found fascinating.

“Come on, my dears,” she said to them. “Jump on in! Santa hasn’t got all day!”

Kevin was surprised to see the woman herself in charge of the bus (he’d thought she was just the ticket seller), and when she gestured for them to climb on board, he hesitated. “I’m sorry, but don’t you have any other guests to pick up?”

The lady shook her head. “Just you folks today.” She smiled at Nicky. “That means you get all the special treatment!”

“Are we going to the North Pole?” Nicky asked as he got on the bus.

“Yes, my dear,” replied the little old lady, “but it’s a long drive, so just sit back and relax.”

Kevin pretended not to see the look of apprehension on his wife’s face, and soon they were all sitting on the bus, staring out the windows as they made their way north.

After about an hour of driving on the main road, the minibus slowed down and took a turning onto a narrow track, hidden between two trees. The road went straight into a dense forest, the track barely wide enough for a single vehicle to pass through.

Although Kevin was starting to feel pretty nervous, he said nothing. His wife was frowning, and even the kids looked a little surprised, but they carried on laughing and playing games with each other. They’d been playing ‘Eye Spy’ for the past half an hour, but as all they could see out the window was snow, snow, and more snow, it had been an incredibly tedious game for everyone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of travelling along the bumpy, uneven track, they came to a large steel gate nestled between the trees. It was locked with a heavy chain and there was a sign on the gate saying ‘No entry’. It didn’t look inviting in the least.

The little old lady pulled the minibus up in front of the gate before slowly getting out and walking over to take off the padlock. After removing the chain, she struggled to pull the heavy gate open because of the thick snow on the ground. Seeing this, Kevin jumped out to give her a hand, and once the gate was open the lady asked the rest of the family to get out and follow her down the narrow pathway.

“The rest of the journey has to be done on foot,” she explained, with a twinkle in her eye.

The Snowdons did as they were told, shivering as they followed the lady. They weren’t just shivering from the cold either; here in the forest everything was deadly silent, as though a strange hush had fallen over all the land, and it was more than a little spooky.

Nicky in particular was getting very scared, and he reached out to hold his mum’s hand (his other hand was grasping his comfort blanket). Kevin noticed but didn’t say anything; he’d hate if his wonderful surprise turned out to be something that scared his kids. He could only hope things would get better, and soon.

Eventually, the path led them out of the forest and into a large clearing, and the sight that greeted them immediately put Kevin at ease. In front of them was a beautifully crafted wooden log cabin and some stables, much smaller than The Crazy Reindeer but far more charming. Behind that there was a large frozen lake, its surface sparkling under the sun (which by now was getting low in the sky, as the days in Northern Finland were very short), the stunning view making all of the Snowdons gasp in awe.

It was still eerily quiet, but now that they weren’t surrounded by large, looming trees, the family began to relax. The lake was just so enchanting, the cabin so inviting, and for just a brief flicker of an instant, Kevin thought he might have felt something akin to Christmas spirit.

The Santa Tour looked like it would be a wonderful experience after all.



Chapter Seven

The Enchanted Lake

“Come along, my dears,” the little old lady said, ushering them towards the lodge. “Santa’s a busy man; he hasn’t got all day!”

Kevin laughed as Michael and Holly ran ahead into the lodge, Nicky following behind with Jane (he was still holding her hand). Kevin entered last, wondering what festive ‘nonsense’ he’d find inside, and actually being pretty pleased with what he saw.

“Wow,” Holly cried, “it’s amazing!”

Kevin had to agree. Whereas The Crazy Reindeer lodge had gone all out with its decorations, there had been something so commercial and… well, fake… about it all. Here, it looked as if it was actually someone’s home, if that someone lived in the North Pole and loved Christmas as much as his children did.

The lodge truly was wonderful. As well as a massive and beautifully decorated tree (much classier than the one at the hotel), there was a spectacular log-burning fireplace and a wall full of oversized books, just like the one Grandpa had got out after Thanksgiving dinner. There were comfy-looking armchairs in front of the fire, and what looked like a collection of mulled wine bottles set into a little alcove. Festive or not, Kevin thought he could get used to this kind of place.

“So, who wants to come and see Santa Claus?” asked the little old lady, banging her cane on the ground.

With that the little old lady walked over to one of the bookcases, peering at the titles for a moment before reaching out and pulling on one entitled, ‘The Magic of the North Pole’. As she touched it, a secret door swung open in the bookcase to reveal a hidden passageway.

The children gasped in wonder and delight, and even Kevin had to admit he was impressed. After all, who didn’t love a secret passageway?

The little old lady ushered the three of them in, but when Jane went to follow them she said, “Sorry, my dear, Santa only sees children.”

“Oh, but Nicky…” Jane replied, glancing nervously at Kevin.

“Don’t worry, Mum,” Holly said from the secret door. “I’ll look after him. We’ll be OK.”

And then the three children walked through the door, which the little old lady promptly closed behind them.

“Don’t worry, my dear, they’ll be fine,” she said to Jane, who looked worried. Kevin was slightly concerned too: where had that passageway gone? Why hadn’t the lady gone with them? And who were their children with right now?

A short while later, however, the children came back out of the hidden door in the bookcase, each of them carrying a present in one hand and a large stick of candy in the other. They were beaming from ear to ear, and Kevin and Jane’s fears were put to rest.

“So, how was it?” asked Kevin.

“Amazing!” replied Holly. “Thanks, Dad, for letting us come here.”

Kevin smiled, his mind only half on the ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug.

“Right, my dears,” said the little old lady, “do you want to go on a reindeer ride around the lake?”

“Yes!” they responded in unison, all three of their faces lighting up at exactly the same time. Kevin couldn’t help but laugh.

“You two can come this time as well, if you like?” the little old lady said to Kevin and Jane, who looked at each other and nodded.

Outside, she led them towards the stables. “We have all of Santa’s reindeer here. Do you know their names?” she asked the children.

Holly was quick to answer. “Yes, I know all of them: there’s Comet, Cupid, Dancer, Prancer, Dasher, Donner, Vixen, Blixen… and Rudolph, of course.” She smiled, happy to have known the answer, as if she were in class and trying to impress the teacher.

“Well done, my dear,” said the little old lady, smiling before turning to the rest of the family. “We have three sleighs ready for you, and it’s a maximum of two people in each, so I’m afraid someone will have to go on their own.”

She seemed very strict on this rule, and when three sleighs (each pulled by two beautiful reindeer) pulled up alongside them, the family did as they were told, pairing off to fit in the magical-looking vehicles.

Kevin, of course, was the one left on his own.

“Right,” the little old lady said, banging her glittery cane on the ground. “These reindeer are very clever; they’ll navigate themselves around the lake in a big circle, so all you have to do is sit back and enjoy the ride!”

Jane and Nicky set off in the first sleigh, Holly and Michael went next, and then Kevin brought up the rear. Inside each sleigh there was a large, cosy blanket to keep them warm, something Kevin was very grateful for as he zoomed around the lake.

At least, his family were zooming around the lake; Kevin’s reindeer seemed to be having a spot of bother. They kept stopping and starting for no apparent reason, and soon Kevin found himself falling far behind the others. He could see them in the distance, laughing and having a great time as their reindeer did exactly as they were meant to.

Why did he have to get the rebellious reindeer? He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place!

When he got about halfway around the lake, and was therefore at the furthest point away from the lodge, Kevin’s reindeer stopped completely. By now the other two sleighs were so far ahead Kevin could no longer see them, not even as indistinct blurs in the distance. He felt a real sense of loneliness as he searched for his family in the dwindling light, and even though he tried his hardest to encourage his reindeer to keep going, they weren’t having any of it. It was as though they were enjoying his misery (or at least, that’s what Kevin had made himself believe), and his mind briefly flashed to his more difficult students at school.

Just when he thought his situation couldn’t get any worse, a wind began to pick up out of nowhere and snow started to fall all around him. It was pretty, but within minutes it had turned into a full-on blizzard. Now, not only couldn’t he see his family, but he could barely see three feet in front of him.

“Come on, come on! Let’s go!” Kevin shouted at the reindeer, hoping to scare them into action, and when that didn't work, he slapped both animals on the backside with the palm of his hand. This definitely did work, although it was a bit more successful than he’d hoped, as the reindeer bolted off the lake and away into the snow.

“Whoa, whoa!” Kevin shouted, as they headed rapidly towards some trees, but it was too late; they were about to crash. Kevin wrapped himself in the blanket, closed his eyes, and then braced himself, ready for impact.

Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the blizzard stopped; suddenly, everything was dead calm again.

Reluctantly, Kevin slowly opened his eyes, unsure of what had happened. The reindeer must have swerved at the last second and missed the trees, and although this was good news, he still didn’t know how far away he was from the lake or how to get back. The visibility was poor due to the churned-up snow from the blizzard, and all he could see was white everywhere he looked.

He pulled the blanket even tighter around him; he sure wished he was sitting next to that fire with a mug of mulled wine right about now!

After the snow eventually settled and Kevin could see more of the surrounding landscape, his mouth dropped open in awe. Although the sun had now set completely, the sky wasn’t dark. On the contrary, it was lit up by the most vivid Northern Lights he could ever have imagined, the red and green beams dancing together as though performing some whimsical ballet. They were so bright he had to squint as he looked up at them. They were simply mesmerising.

When his neck started to ache he stopped looking up and glanced around him again, realising he was in the middle of a desolate landscape. Not only was there no sign of either the lake or the lodge; there were no trees in sight at all. It was just him and the two reindeer, surrounded by an endless blanket of white. He had completely lost his bearings and just hoped the reindeer would instinctively know their way back home. If not, he would be in deep trouble. He had no food and no water, and the cold was now seeping into his bones despite the cosy blanket still wrapped around him.

After several hours of plodding along slowly, there was still no sign of the lake and Kevin was getting more and more worried. They were well and truly lost, in the far depths of the Finnish wilderness, and Kevin had no idea how far they’d strayed from the cabin. What must Jane be thinking? And the children? They’d be sick with worry!

Kevin tried shouting out for help at the top of his lungs (hoping someone, somehow, would hear him), but it was just no use. He tried to stop the reindeer by pulling on their reins, but nothing happened. He thought about jumping off the sleigh and going it alone, but quickly discarded that idea as being intensely stupid. So what did that leave?

He was in complete limbo, with no other choice than to sit back and hope for the best. This, perhaps, was the worst part of it, as his scientific mind was willing him to come up with a solution. Surely there was something he could do to help his situation? Surely there was something to solve here, an equation he could put to use, a theory he could test… but as he sat there, getting more and more numb from the cold, nothing came to mind. Nothing at all.

And so Kevin did nothing; he just thought about his wife and his children and hoped they were OK.

He was on the brink of giving up hope when he saw some lights far in the distance, twinkling enticingly at Kevin through the whiteness of the surroundings. He sat bolt upright. It looked like a village!

“Good boys!” he praised the reindeer as they plodded towards the lights. So they had known where they were going all along!

As he got closer, Kevin could see it was actually quite a large village, and as the reindeer got to the village entrance, they instinctively came to a halt next to a snow-covered sign.

Jumping out of the sleigh, Kevin brushed off the snow to reveal the words ‘North Pole’.



Chapter Eight

An Unexpected Greeting

Intrigued, Kevin ventured into the village.

It was unlike any place he’d ever been before. For one thing, all of the houses were really small, but all beautifully crafted from wood, like the lodge back at the lake. The front doors were just about big enough for a child to get through. The streets were lit up with hundreds of old-fashioned, oil-burning lanterns, giving the place a cosy, enchanting feel. Everything just looked so… perfect… and Kevin assumed he’d stumbled upon some sort of tourist attraction. It looked like a place he’d read about back in the hotel called Santa Land, where Nicky had (unsurprisingly) wanted to go. In Santa Land you could visit Santa and get a diploma for toy-making at an Elf school. Kevin had said no; the only diploma Nicky would be getting would be an actual diploma in several years’ time.

Upon checking his watch, Kevin was surprised to see it was still 3 o’clock. As that was around the time he’d got lost, he came to the (scientific) conclusion that his watch must have broken during the blizzard. It must be 6 or 7 o’clock in the evening by now at least, and Jane and the children must be beside themselves with worry. With this in mind, he headed off into the village, hoping to find a way to contact his family.

He knocked on the first door he came to, and when there was no answer he tried the next one, and the one after that, but nobody was answering. Perhaps Santa Land would be closing soon? It was getting late, after all, and even teachers at an Elf school had to get home in time for dinner. Still, this didn’t really help him, did it?

He called out to see if anyone was about, but when nobody answered, he walked further into the village.

At the end of the street Kevin could see a large barn, and when he realised there were signs of life coming from within, he hurried towards it as fast as he could, his boots squishing in the soft snow underfoot.

When he got there, however, he struggled to find the entrance. He couldn’t see a door anywhere, but there were several small windows, circular ones shaped like little portholes. Now more intrigued than ever, he peered through one of these porthole-style windows and took a look inside. It seemed to be a toy-making factory, though going by the number of children working there, he assumed it was some kind of school: the Elf school he’d read about, probably. He guessed they hadn’t all gone home for their dinner, after all.

Kevin walked around the building, eventually coming to a small, child-sized door. This was rather strange, as surely adults needed to get into the Elf school too? He found it hard to believe they’d get down on their hands and knees and crawl through the door to get in, but that’s exactly what he had to do.

Once inside he got to his feet again, brushing off his trousers before glancing around. The workshop was a noisy, bustling place, full of banging and sawing, as you’d expect in a factory.

As he looked, a cloud of sawdust got blown into his face, and when he started coughing and spluttering, the whole place went silent as all the workers stopped their tasks, staring at Kevin.

He looked more closely at the people in front of him and was amazed to see they weren’t children at all; they were all, in fact, Elves. Kevin couldn’t believe it; the Santa Park sure were picky about who they employed. There couldn’t have been anyone in here over four feet tall!

After pulling himself together Kevin went over to speak to one of the Elves, wanting to explain what he was doing there, but the Elf just stared at him blankly, seemingly unable to understand him. Confused, Kevin listened to some of the other Elves who were speaking amongst themselves, realising they weren’t speaking English; instead, they were talking in a strange language unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and they all had very high-pitched voices. It definitely wasn’t Finnish, he knew that much.

“Does anyone here speak English?” Kevin called out, hoping to discover just what on earth was going on.

There was still no reply, but one of the Elves did come over and give him a delicious-smelling cup of hot chocolate. Sensing that they wanted him to wait, Kevin tentatively sipped at the drink, smiling in delight at the flavour. It was just so delicious! In fact, it was the most amazing hot chocolate he’d ever had in his whole life, with its rich cocoa aroma mixed with mouth-watering cinnamon and other exotic-smelling spices. It warmed him from the inside out, and for the first time since getting out of his cold, frozen sleigh, he felt human again.

After a short while, an Elf worked his way through the crowd towards Kevin, announcing, “Welcome to the North Pole!” as he walked.

“Thank goodness someone here speaks English!” Kevin replied, hearing the voice. As he looked up at the Elf, he nearly dropped his mug of hot chocolate as he realised who it was: it was Alfie, from his class at school!

“What on earth are you doing here?” exclaimed Kevin, now absolutely flummoxed as to what was going on.

“Hi, Sir,” said Alfie, “it’s good to see you. I’m here to welcome you to the North Pole.”

“You work here?” asked Kevin, still taken aback by the unexpected appearance of one of his students. To think that Alfie had a Christmas job as an Elf at Santa Land; what a coincidence!

“Well, this is going to sound crazy,” replied Alfie, “but I’m actually an Elf. I’ve only been living in New York to keep an eye on certain people’s behaviour in school.” He winked then, smiling at the same time.

Kevin had always known Alfie was a bit peculiar, but this was completely insane, even for him. It was at this point Kevin realised it was the first time he’d ever seen Alfie without a hat on, and now he knew why: Alfie had pointed ears, like the Elves you read about in the stories. For a split second Kevin was almost convinced Alfie might be telling the truth and that he really was an Elf, but then he quickly returned to his normal, logical way of thinking. They were probably stick-on ears, part of the Santa Land uniform.

“Look, Alfie,” Kevin said, annoyed at having been sidetracked, “I haven’t got time for any of this nonsense. I need to get in contact with my family; I have to let them know I’m safe.”

Alfie put a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Don’t worry, Sir. They won’t even know you’ve gone yet.”

Kevin, who by now was getting more than a little agitated, shouted, “Of course they do! I’ve been gone for hours!” He glanced around the room. “Tell me, who’s in charge here?”

“Santa Claus, of course!” replied Alfie, smiling.

Kevin shook his head. “Of course, why am I not surprised? And I suppose you have a naughty list here too?” He let out a little (only slightly hysterical) chuckle. “Tell me, is Doug top of the list?”

Alfie smiled, saying nothing, and Kevin sighed, suddenly exhausted. “This is hopeless,” he muttered under his breath.

“Come with me, Sir,” Alfie said, frowning at the state his teacher was in, “Santa will know what to do.” He took his now empty mug off him and handed it to another Elf.

At the back of the workshop there was a much larger door (an adult-sized door), and after following Alfie through it Kevin found himself in an office. It was a rather unusual office for many reasons, but the biggest reason was the person sitting in it, who was most definitely an adult-sized person.

Despite everything, Kevin found himself smiling.

There was an old man with a long, grey beard sitting behind a wooden desk, on which was piled a huge mound of paperwork. On top of the papers was the largest, most glittery snow globe Kevin had ever seen. He also noticed two large winter coats hanging on a stand behind him; one was a new, shiny red one, while the other was an old, more traditional dark green coat.

Kevin introduced himself and quickly explained the extraordinary situation he’d found himself in. “So you see, I need to contact my family immediately.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Kevin,” said Santa, politely. “I’d love to help, but I’m afraid we don’t use phones up here in the North Pole.”

“Please,” pleaded Kevin, “my wife and children are going to be besides themselves with worry. I need to call them, now!”

“No need to worry,” said Santa with a chuckle. “Your family are perfectly fine. They still don't know you’ve gone.”

Kevin frowned. “That’s what Alfie said, but how can that be? I’ve been gone hours at least!” He shouted the last couple of words, trying and failing to hold back his frustration.

“Well, I’m not a scientist like you,” Santa said, smiling, “but I do know this village sits at the most northern point on Earth, and somehow because of that we’re in a different dimension of time to the rest of the world. While the whole of mankind rushes through life at a phenomenal pace, time here moves at 1:2000th of the speed. This is what creates the separation of light modules in the sky above us, and that’s also why your watch still says it’s three o’clock in the afternoon.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say, but for some reason he had a burning desire to find out who this man really was. After all, what kind of man would work in a place like this, spending his time pretending he was Santa Claus? “OK,” Kevin said finally, after having a think, “if you’re the real Santa, tell me about the key that kid found in London last year.”

“Ah yes, the magic key,” Santa replied, pulling out a spectacular, yet complex-looking key from one of his desk drawers. “A marvellous invention! The Elf who invented the key was an absolute genius. It’s not actually magic, though; it’s just very clever how it works.” He held it up so Kevin could see it. “The teeth of the key are made up of thousands of finite strands of titanium. Once you put the key into a lock and slowly start to turn it, the hair-like stands mould themselves into the shape of the lock inside. We have a whole variety of keys for different types of locks, and honestly, it’s difficult keeping track of them all; when I lost that one in London last year, I had to travel back for it, swapping the key for a fake while the boy was sleeping. The poor little lad probably thought he was going crazy when the key stopped working the following day, but I couldn’t risk the secret getting out.” He shrugged, as though what he was talking about was perfectly natural. “Anyway, these things happen.”

“Look,” said Kevin, who had no idea how to respond to the man’s story, “all I want is to get back to my family. If you can help me, I’ll be very grateful.”

Nodding, Santa picked up his green coat and then escorted Kevin back through the workshop, where he noticed for the first time what the Elves were doing: they were making toy racing cars out of wood, ones large enough for a small child to sit in. Kevin had to admit, the workmanship was magnificent; Elf school had obviously taught them well. The cars were all made with meticulous detail and every element of the toy had been made completely by hand.

At the end of the line, the cars were being carefully painted in a multitude of different colours, complete with racing stripes and a number on the side. The numbers ranged between 4 and 9, Santa explained to him, representing the age of the child destined to receive the wonderful toy.

When Kevin asked Santa if he could buy one of the finished cars for Nicky, Santa laughed. “We don't sell our toys!” he replied, as though this should be obvious. “They’re all gifts, and every single toy we make is already allocated to a child somewhere in the world.”

“So, every child is getting a racing car this year?” Kevin asked, frowning.

“No, not every child,” replied Santa. “This is for the top, most well-behaved children only. We make hundreds of different toys in different workshops. This is just the wooden car workshop.” As they exited the building, Santa pointed down the road to several identical barns. “Each workshop only makes one kind of toy,” he explained. “That way, we can make sure they’re all perfect.” He smiled widely, obviously very proud of their mammoth operation.

Kevin was lost for words as he gazed down the never-ending street of barns. If this was Santa Land, it was a whole lot bigger and a whole lot more complex than the brochures at the hotel had led him to believe.

“Well, it’s getting late and we’d better be getting you back home,” Santa said, as Kevin looked at his watch again. It now said 3.01 p.m.

They continued walking, and at the main entrance of the village Kevin found his reindeer, waiting patiently for him. Some of the Elves were feeding them from a bucket of bright green moss.

“I thought reindeer ate carrots?” Kevin said.

“That’s a common misconception,” replied Santa. “They much prefer a nice bucket of moss. Well, come on then, here you go.”

It dawned on Kevin then that Santa was expecting him to ride back home in the sleigh he’d arrived in. “I can’t go back in that!” Kevin exclaimed. “I’ll get lost in the wilderness again!”

“Nonsense,” replied Santa. “These two beauties will get you back alright.” He smiled at Kevin, then gave him a barely perceptible wink.

Not really feeling he had much choice in the matter, Kevin reluctantly got back into the sleigh, tucking himself back under the blanket as Santa firmly patted the reindeer on the backside. Within seconds, Kevin was hurtling through the snow.

“Goodbye!” Santa called after him, Alfie standing silently at his side. “Do come visit us again!”

Kevin waved at the figures as they disappeared from view, shaking his head in disbelief. What on earth had just happened?

Soon the reindeer were travelling at a tremendous speed again, and Kevin had to hold on for dear life. As they went faster and faster the snow began to spray up into the air, and it wasn't long before Kevin couldn’t see a thing. Yet again he found himself blinded by the snow, and he started to think he’d made a big mistake coming back on his own; he should have got Alfie to come with him, to show him the way.

Suddenly the snow cleared, and Kevin could see they were heading back towards the forest, making him brace for impact again, very much expecting to plough headlong into a tree. Yet again, however, the same thing happened as before; there was no crash, and the next thing he knew, everything had gone completely calm. The snow began to settle back down and the reindeer slowed to a steady, plodding pace.

Soon enough, Kevin started being able to make out the landscape around him and was thrilled to see he was back at the lake. It was a Christmas miracle! The reindeer really had found their way back home, just as Santa (or whoever he was) had said.

Kevin shook his head, laughing. The whole thing was already beginning to feel like a strange dream.



Chapter Nine

A Changed Man

As Kevin’s reindeer plodded slowly back towards the log cabin, he could see his family waiting for him in the distance, his heart leaping as he looked at his wife and children. When he got there, he jumped out of the sleigh and ran up to his wonderful family, giving them all an enormous hug.

“It’s so good to be back!” he exclaimed happily. “What time is it?”

“It’s just coming up to half-past three,” Jane replied, looking a little confused.

“What?” Kevin asked, his face scrunched up in puzzlement. “But I’ve been gone for hours!”

“What’s up with Dad?” Holly asked her mum, frowning.

“I have no idea,” Jane replied, just as the little old lady came over.

“Alright, my dears,” she said, banging her cane on the ground, “let’s all go back inside, shall we? I’ll make us all a lovely cup of hot chocolate to warm us up.”

Kevin felt dazed as he walked back inside with his family. It was only half three? If so, what did that mean? He must have fallen asleep, having a power-nap in his sleigh. The memories of his time in the North Pole were already blurring, like the hazy images of a dream, and he could feel a rather hefty headache coming on.

Back inside the cabin, the family sat down in front of the open fire while the little old lady brought them each a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

It smelled delicious, and as Jane took a sip, her cold cheeks immediately became pink. “Wow, this is wonderful!” she proclaimed.

When Kevin tried his, he was amazed; it tasted just like he’d imagined the hot chocolate to have tasted in his dream. But how could he have dreamt up a taste? Was that even possible?

Just then, Kevin noticed Holly playing with something, and as he leaned in closer he saw it was a beautiful glittery snow globe. “Is that the present you got from Santa?” he asked. He was sure he’d seen one just like it, and recently too…

“Yes! It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Holly answered, and when she held it up to the light from the fire, Kevin got a sudden and intense flashback to his dream. There’d been a snow globe on Santa’s desk, hadn’t there? And it had looked just like this one!

Trying to act casual, Kevin asked his daughter, “What did Santa look like, when you saw him?”

“Well,” began Holly, “he was quite tall, but not nearly as fat as I thought he would be. His beard was grey, but not overly long, and he was wearing a dark green coat.”

Realising that Holly had just described the Santa from his dream (down to the very last detail), Kevin was left speechless.

“Why was he wearing a green coat?” Jane asked. “I thought Santa Claus always wore red?”

“No, Mum,” Holly replied, answering again like she was sitting in a classroom. “Santa traditionally wore green. It was a fizzy drinks company’s advert that made everyone assume he wears red.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “I mean, he does have a red coat, but he said he only wears it when he visits us at Christmas time. When he’s here at home, he prefers to wear his traditional green coat instead.” She smiled at her parents brightly before focusing back on the snow globe.

Kevin was beginning to feel a little light-headed. Was this just another coincidence, or had he really gone on a journey to see Santa at the North Pole? And if he actually had seen him, what did that tell him about… well… everything? About the way he approached life, about the scientific manner in which he viewed everything in the world?

It was a lot to take in.

He was just about to tell his family what had happened around the lake, wondering what their reaction would be, when he was interrupted by the little old lady.

“Time to go home now, my darlings,” she announced, leaning on her glittery cane. “I hope you’ve all had a magical time!”

***

On the way back to the hotel, Kevin thought long and hard about what had happened during their ‘Santa Tour’. He really wanted to tell someone about his little adventure, but he concluded (rather scientifically) that his family would all think he was crazy if he tried to explain what had happened to him. So he decided not to say anything, and by the time he was lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, he’d convinced himself it had all been a dream.

A strange, wonderful dream that had changed the way he viewed Christmas.

Sure enough, for the rest of the holiday Kevin was a changed man, with a renewed Christmas spirit and more festive cheer than you could shake a (glittery, knobbly) stick at. There was no more ski school for the Snowdons; instead, the family spent the remaining days doing other festive activities, such as going on a husky ride, tobogganing, and riding snowmobiles. His whole family noticed the change in Kevin, but they didn’t dare risk saying anything; they were enjoying this version of Kevin Snowdon far too much.

Somehow, Kevin had also remarkably overcome his fear of flying and was perfectly relaxed during the flight back home.

Jane kept looking at her husband, wondering at the change in him. Whatever had happened, she was grateful for it.



Chapter Ten

The Mysterious Present

A few weeks later, when the Snowdon family were back home in New York, Grandpa joined them, as usual, on Christmas Eve.

The whole family were settled around the fire, and as the children excitedly hung up their stockings from the mantelpiece ready for their presents, Nicky asked Grandpa if he could tell them the same Christmas story he’d told them at Thanksgiving.

Kevin hadn’t heard the story before and was keen to listen, especially now he had a new-found love for everything Christmas (something, by the way, which hadn’t escaped Grandpa’s notice). He agreed, getting out that same large book that had so delighted them before, and sitting down to read the story.

As he listened, just as eagerly as his children, Kevin realised there were some remarkable similarities to the dream he’d had while on vacation. But, ever the scientist, he just shook his head, dismissing the crazy notion that it was anything other than pure coincidence.

This didn’t, however, stop him from thinking about Grandpa’s story as he lay in bed that night. The sleigh, the snow, the elves… everything just whirled around and around in his head, the thoughts and memories bouncing about like snowflakes in a blizzard.

Had he really met the real Santa Claus?

***

On Christmas morning the children got up early, and as usual, the first thing they did was rush downstairs to see if Santa had been.

He had indeed.

Not only were their stockings bursting at the seams, but there were also lots of presents underneath the Christmas tree. The three Snowdon children shouted and laughed when they saw them all.

The whole family gathered around as each of the children ripped off the wrapping paper and tore into the gift boxes to see what Santa had brought them, and within ten minutes, nearly all of the presents had been opened. It was like they were all in a present-opening frenzy.

“That must be a new record!” exclaimed Kevin, shaking his head but laughing at the same time.

“Hold on,” said Jane, who was on her hands and knees under the tree, “there’s one more present back here!” A moment later she’d pulled out a large, beautifully-wrapped gift.

“Who’s it for?” asked Michael excitedly.

Jane read the label out loud. “To Nicky, this present is for you and your dad to enjoy this Christmas. Love, Santa Claus.”

Kevin and Jane both looked at each other, confused as to where the present had come from.

Kevin shrugged his shoulders, thinking it might be from Grandpa (who sometimes gave anonymous gifts and swore they weren’t from him), and asked Nicky to open it.

Nicky didn’t have to be told twice; he pulled back the wrapping paper to unveil a beautiful wooden pedal car, with racing stripes and a large number 5 painted on the side.

Kevin stared at the car, his mouth open. He couldn’t help it; it was identical to the racing cars he’d seen being made at the North Pole, in Santa’s workshop. But surely, it couldn’t be… could it?

“Dad, can we take it outside and race it down the road?” asked Nicky excitedly, oblivious to his father’s shock. He was also oblivious to the fact he’d dropped his comfort blanket on the floor in his excitement; or perhaps he had noticed and just decided he didn’t need it anymore.

Kevin paused for moment, his mind yet again awhirl with images from his trip to Lapland, to the North Pole. He was having trouble believing it, but his scientific brain couldn’t ignore the hard, solid evidence that was right in front of his eyes! This was the exact same racing car he’d seen at the North Pole, right down to the letter (or number). For the first time Kevin started to comprehend that he really had met the real Santa Claus!

The thought made him giddy, but he couldn’t stop laughing as he sat down in the comfy armchair.

“Are you alright, darling?” Jane asked, looking rather bemused.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Kevin said, trying to catch his breath. “In fact, I’m more than fine! Isn’t Christmas just magical?”

Jane stared at her husband for a moment, then started laughing too. It sure was; Kevin finding his Christmas spirit was nothing short of a Christmas miracle in itself.

“Oh!” Nicky suddenly exclaimed, jumping up from his inspection of the racing car and zooming off to his room.

Kevin threw a questioning look at Jane, but she just smiled knowingly in response, not saying a word.

Moments later Nicky was back, holding a badly-wrapped present out to Kevin and smiling widely. “Merry Christmas, Dad,” he said, “this is from all of us.”

Kevin eagerly tore open the paper (making just as much of a mess as the kids had before), and when he saw what it was, a lump appeared in his throat.

“Thank you, very much,” he just about managed to croak as tears welled in his eyes. “I’ll use it every morning for my cup of coffee.”

The children smiled as he brought them all in for a hug, the ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug still clasped tightly in his hand.

***

Once the Christmas holiday was over, Kevin went back to work teaching physics with a bit of a spring in his step. For one thing, he was very much looking forward to catching up with Alfie, to confirm the truth about his astonishing experience in Lapland and to generally have a good old catch up about his new friend, Saint Nick.

Alfie, however, wasn’t there. Apparently he’d moved to another school far away, presumably because his work in New York had been completed. Kevin had a sneaking suspicion that Santa had only stationed him there to help him regain his Christmas spirit. Well, it had worked, so Alfie had certainly done his job.

And now Kevin had a job of his own to do, and that wasn’t just teaching science. He had learnt a valuable lesson in Lapland, one he wished to pass on to his students.

“Not everything in life can be explained by science,” he said to a rather surprised-looking class. “Sometimes, the best things in life can be explained only through magic.”

And so it was that every year after that, the Snowdon family returned to Lapland, enjoying lots of wonderful festive fun and taking part in all kinds of exciting Christmas adventures… plus a little bit of ski school, of course!