Pixie was there along with the Lie Pixie. The Lie Pixie said that he really liked my ears, which was a bit worrying. Father Christmas’s reindeer were all there too. He had made Blitzen promise that he wouldn’t go to the toilet on the floor during the service, and Blitzen stuck to that promise. There was also a Tomtegubb there. I had heard of pixies and elves, even when I had lived in London, but I had never heard of Tomtegubbs. There weren’t many of them apparently, and they were only found to the east of Elfhelm. Tomtegubbs didn’t have names and they were never male or female. They were always just Tomtegubbs and they came in different colours. This one glowed a kind of yellow and was a short chubby thing, and it smiled and hummed to itself the whole time. And Captain Soot came along too, nibbling dropped cake crumbs from the floor.
Oh, and there was also an earthquake. Or what felt like an earthquake. But it turned out to be just a troll walking all the way from Troll Valley to the wedding. She was such a large troll she couldn’t actually fit in the hall and had to sit on the snowy ground outside, but she peered inside the window. This was Urgula, the Supreme Troll Leader, who was larger even than all the untertrolls and übertrolls she was in charge of. I didn’t see the whole of her, but I saw her head with her hair as wild as a tree blowing in the wind.
Father Christmas opened the window at one point to talk to her. ‘Hello, Urgula, lovely to see you here.’
Urgula smiled and showed her three teeth, each one the size of a rotten door. ‘I be here to wish you and your love the biggest happiness from all we trolls.’
‘That is very kind,’ said Mary, standing by Father Christmas’s side.
The Sleigh Belles played a song they had written for the occasion called ‘You Look Beautiful To Me My Sweetheart (Even Though You Are A Human)’.
Father Topo, Father Christmas’s best friend, led the service. Elfhelm weddings, I soon realised, were slightly different to human ones.
‘Look into each other’s eyes,’ said Father Topo, ‘and try not to laugh.’
They both managed that very well until Father Topo started telling some terrible jokes.
‘What’s the best Christmas present?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mary.
‘A broken drum! You just can’t beat it . . . Get it?’
‘Yes,’ said Father Christmas, ‘I told you that one!’
But Father Topo had more.
‘What says “oh oh oh”? You walking backwards . . . Get it? Because you normally say “ho ho ho”. Okay. Why couldn’t the skeleton go to the party? Because he had no body to go with. No body! See? What’s a human child’s favourite king? A stocking . . .’ And these terrible jokes went on for quite some time. Until eventually both Father Christmas and Mary were laughing – not because the jokes were so funny, but because they were so bad. And it was at that moment – that exact moment of laughing-at-the-same-time-ness – that Father Topo said, ‘I now pronounce you MARRIED!’ Because that is how people get married in Elfhelm. By laughing together at the same time in the middle of a wedding service.
Mary became Mother Christmas automatically because Father Christmas was the Leader of the Elf Council. And Mary became a member of the Elf Council, too. That was why some people were called Mother Something or Father Something. They were members of the Elf Council, which meant they could attend meetings and help to decide things to do with Elfhelm and elf life. Anyone, in theory, could be a member of the Elf Council. It just so happened that a lot of elves never wanted to be, because meetings were known to be boring and to give them rashes. And very itchy rashes at that.
After the talking part of the wedding, there was the food part (a lot of food), and more music, and even more spickle dancing.
Towards the end of the party a grumpy-looking elf with a black beard appeared and wandered through the crowd, scowling at Father Christmas and Mary – or Mother Christmas – and at anyone who seemed to be happy. Which was absolutely everybody in the room apart from the Truth Pixie, who seemed to want Father Christmas to stay on his own (I knew this because I overheard her saying ‘I wish Father Christmas would stay on his own’), so this was a bit of a difficult day for her.
‘Are you having a good time?’ I asked the Truth Pixie innocently.
‘I am having the worst day of my life,’ she responded, before stuffing her face with wedding cake.
The scowling elf was Father Vodol. When Father Christmas raised his glass to make a toast at the end, I watched Father Vodol staring intently at Father Christmas’s cup of cloudberry juice.
‘Dear elves, pixies, humans, reindeer, troll – oh, and you Tomtegubb – thank you all for coming. Today has been very special for me. Like a million Christmas Days all at once. Because I have married the kindest, warmest and funniest person I have ever known – that’s you, Mother Christmas – and I am surrounded by all of you. I would also like to mention someone else in the room.’ That was when he pointed at me. ‘That person there. Amelia Wishart. The girl who saved Christmas. She has taught me a lot. Mostly she has taught me the power of hope. As you know, hope is a kind of magic. And it is now my great hope and belief that Elfhelm will continue to welcome her – and my dear Mary – into our village, as you have done already. Like me, they may look a little different, but I assure you they will add much to life here in Elfhelm.’
‘Here, here,’ said Noosh, now standing next to her great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Father Topo, and holding her son, Little Mim, in her arms.
‘Absolutely,’ said Father Topo. ‘Elfhelm is more fun if it welcomes everyone. A village full of only elves is as boring as a stocking filled with the same presents.’
‘Well, I am very happy to be here,’ said Mary. ‘And I know Amelia is too. Aren’t you, Amelia?’
The whole hall turned to look at me.
‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘I am very happy. It certainly beats a workhouse, I can tell you.’
The elves smiled at me but there was a look of confusion or perhaps it was amusement in their faces. I guess it was because I was different. I was different even to Mary and Father Christmas. There was no drimwickery inside me. Drimwickery is elf magic. A magic that had been used to save the life of Father Christmas when he was a boy, and which he in turn had used to save Mary’s life last Christmas. I couldn’t do the things that elves and Father Christmas and Mary – once she’d completed her drimwick classes – could do. But I didn’t care. Not yet, anyway. I quite liked being different. All my life, in London, I had been invisible. Just another poor scruffy sooty-faced child. It was nice to be looked at. It made me feel a bit special, and I had never felt special before.
And Father Christmas helped me out by saying, ‘So let’s raise our glasses to happiness and friendship! It doesn’t matter who anyone is, or where they have come from, they are here in Elfhelm and we will welcome them.’
Father Vodol, I realised, was still staring at the goblet in Father Christmas’s hand. And, as he stared at it, I saw that goblet begin to tremble
