Monday 1 December

Disaster.

When I arrived at work this morning there was a large crowd outside the reindeer stables, staring up at a hole in the roof.

‘What’s happened?’ I asked.

‘Some Trainee Elf was mucking out the reindeer, and he gave Rudolph magic oats,’ said a Postal Elf. ‘Poor Rudolph shot up like a rocket. He’s been up there all weekend.’

I glanced over at the hopper I had fed Rudolph from. The oats were sparkly. Next to it was another hopper, with ordinary oats in it. How had I not noticed that before?

I stopped by Mission Control. There was a large crowd of elves watching the screen, as a red blinking light tracked across Greenland.

‘There he goes,’ said an elf with a buzz cut. ‘Looks like he’s circling the North Pole.’

‘Trying to burn off some steam,’ said another.

I decided to leave everyone to it, and went to muck out Dasher and Dancer.

Ola was waiting for me.

‘You’ve heard about Rudolph?’

‘I’m really sorry,’ I said.

‘He’s done three thousand miles in the last half hour and he’s been going round in circles all weekend!’

‘I know. I think I gave him magic oats by mistake.’

Ola’s face clouded with anger.

‘Tog! What were you thinking?’

‘It was an accident,’ I blurted. ‘He asked me for them and I didn’t see the sparkly bits.’

There was a long pause while Ola tried to get the better of his temper. When he finally spoke, his words were curt and gruff.

‘Being a Christmas Elf… it’s not for everyone.’

‘It’s one mistake,’ I protested. ‘You can’t fire me for one mistake!’

‘When it’s a mistake this big –’ he shrugged – ‘I’m afraid I can.’