Annie had completely lost time in her grandfather’s suite, and there was no way she would make it to Undercastle in time. When she came out of the front entrance, however, all prepared to have to run the whole way, she found two reindeer outside, harnessed to a quaint, two-man sleigh. Mr. Fairbrother, who had needed to hurry to keep up with her, smiled when she turned to face him.
‘You’ve got to arrive in style,’ he said with a smile. ‘Can’t have you walking there, can we? Plus, been looking forward to getting the old girl back out.’
‘The reindeer?’
Mr. Fairbrother chuckled. ‘The sleigh. This one’s Eileen. They all have names.’
‘How many do you have?’
‘Five small ones for mucking about in, couple of middle-sized ones for general getting around, and then the big one.’
‘The big one?’
‘You know, for Christmas.’
Annie gave a slow nod. ‘Right.’
‘They’re all in the garage round the back. I’ll show you later. We’d better get moving though. Come on, jump on.’
The reindeer stamped and snorted. One of them twisted its head and appeared to glare at Annie as she inched towards the sleigh.
‘Be nice, please,’ she whispered, climbing on and sitting down.
‘Belt there,’ Mr. Fairbrother said. ‘Better strap in. These little things don’t weigh much and tend to bounce around.’ He chuckled. ‘Few potholes in the drive, see.’
Annie pulled a seatbelt across herself and clipped it in as Mr. Fairbrother sat down beside her and took hold of the reins. She gave a brief smile as she wondered what her cousin Maggie would think of her now, sitting in a sleigh about to be pulled by a pair of reindeer, then glanced back at the house as though pining for its comforts, and saw Mrs. Growell standing in the entrance, arms folded stiffly across her chest. A moment later, another shape appeared out of the shadows beside her: Isabella. With a wide grin, Isabella lifted a hand to wave.
‘Reet,’ Mr. Fairbrother said, snapping the reins. ‘Come on, Eileen.’
The two reindeer leapt forward. Mr. Fairbrother let out a delighted chortle as he nearly rolled backwards out of the seat, his legs flying up in front of him.
‘You should put your seatbelt on,’ Annie gasped, holding on to a side bar with all her strength.
‘Ha,’ Mr. Fairbrother gasped. ‘Where would be the fun in that?’
The sleigh bumped and jerked over the snowy ground as the reindeer bustled off towards the trees. Mr. Fairbrother acted like a kid at an amusement park, leaning out of the side as they went round corners, theatrically jumping out of his seat with each bump.
‘That’s it,’ he said, as they crested a rise along the forest path and then accelerated quickly down the slope on the other side. Instead of feeling sick as she had expected, however, Annie realised she was having fun. Her heart was thundering, but instead of screaming at each bump and jerk, she found herself laughing.
‘Woo!’ she cried as they sped around a corner, the sleigh leaning so far she thought they might topple out. ‘Come on, ah … what are their names? Kevin and Roland?’
Mr. Fairbrother laughed. ‘Nae, this pair are lassies, aren’t they? Otherwise they’d have lost their antlers for winter. These two ladies are Glitter and Tinkerbell.’ At Annie’s frown, he added, ‘Isabella named them.’
A small crowd had gathered on the station platform. The train, a beautiful ornate steam train rather strangely named Mr. Johnson according to the red sign along its black locomotive, puffed steam into the air in readiness. As Annie, led by Mr. Fairbrother, climbed up on to the platform, she recognised most of the people she had got to know over the last few days. There was Dave from the Wonder Toy Studios, dressed in full elf regalia, Reg the greengrocer, Diane and Frank from the pancake house and fudge shops respectively. And there, standing at the back … were Mrs. Growell and Isabella.
‘How on earth did they get here before us?’ Annie whispered to Mr. Fairbrother.
‘Ah, took the Range Rover, didn’t they?’
‘The … Range Rover.’ Annie sighed. ‘Perhaps you can point it out to me sometime.’
Mr. Fairbrother grinned. ‘Ah, but the sleigh was more fun, hey?’
Annie had to admit that he was right, but there was no time left for discussion as a tall, rotund man in a top hat stepped forward.
‘Hey Bill,’ Annie said, remembering the station master from the village meeting.
‘You have to call me Willy Whistle today,’ Bill said, winking as he doffed his hat to her. Then, in a louder voice, he turned to the crowd and called, ‘Everyone, thank you for coming! Today is a day that we’ve been long expecting. Now, without further ado, I’d like to welcome our esteemed patron, Miss Annie Collins of Stone Spire Hall to cut the tape, and on this date, December the first, officially declare Undercastle open for business.’
The crowd cheered. Bill waved Annie forward and led her to a podium by the head of the train. A thick ticker tape in red and green stripes hung across from the station building to the locomotive’s funnel, dipping in the middle to be within Annie’s reach. As she stood on the podium, Annie reached down and literally pinched herself.
‘I’m a bank clerk,’ she muttered under her breath, before hearing her voice amplifying around her and realising that a microphone on top of a dais was already switched on. As a few people chuckled, Annie gave a sheepish grin and cleared her throat.
‘Ah … hello,’ she said, clenching a fist by her side and attempting to channel her inner politician. Had it not been so cold she would surely have been visibly sweating, and as it was her blouse had stuck itself to her back and refused to let go.
‘My name is Annie … Collins, and … it’s … ah … lovely to have … the … ah … honour of saying….’ She trailed off, glancing up above the crowd, remembering how a teacher had once told her that if you got nervous while making a speech you should avoid looking directly at anyone but instead look over the top of their heads. And there, across the street, she saw a line of Christmas lights glittering in the upstairs window of a cottage. Lifting one hand, she grinned. ‘Merry Christmas, everyone!’
The crowd began to applaud. Annie, feeling a fresh surge of confidence, leaned closer to the microphone and said, ‘I’ve only been here a short time, but the welcome I’ve received has warmed my heart, and I’m sure you’ll all extend the same welcome to all the people who are going to come here. I mean, the visitors. Great job, everyone.’
She lifted a hand and made a fist. People started to clap again.
‘You have to cut the tape and declare the train line open,’ Bill hissed from beside her.
‘Ah, right. Okay, we’re open!’ Annie shouted, then picked up the shears and cut the tape to cheers and more applause. Bill waved a hand, and somewhere behind the station a couple of fireworks exploded into the sky, before the train gave a sharp whistle. Annie looked out across the crowd and saw Isabella jump up and down before grabbing Mrs. Growell around the shoulders, shaking the statue-stiff woman like a shop’s mannequin. Mr. Fairbrother gave her a thumbs’ up, then turned to shake hands with a man dressed rather randomly as a circus clown. Annie watched the train chugging out of the station, gently arcing along the line until it disappeared around the curve of the valley, until only a column of steam was visible rising out of the pine tree forest.
‘Nice speech.’
Annie turned. Diane Jenkins was standing beside the dais, a wide smile on her face.
‘Ah, thanks. I’m afraid I’m not good at these things.’
‘You did great. The whole village is buzzing now. Are you coming to the after party?’
‘What after party?’
‘At Frank’s place. Although I’m supplying pancakes, and Harriet from the Hot Chocolate Emporium will be on drinks duty. The first village party of the season, and likely the first of many. And you’re the guest of honour.’
Annie could only stare. ‘Ah, thanks.’
‘So I’ll see you there?’
Annie nodded, then peered through the crowd, looking for Mrs. Growell, Isabella, and Mr. Fairbrother. She spotted them near the edge of the platform. Mr. Fairbrother was talking to Dave, who was gesturing wildly as though describing a fight with a bear. Mrs. Growell stood beside him with her arms folded, Isabella beside her, holding on to Mrs. Growell’s elbow. There was something about them both—
‘I just need to speak to my … uh, staff,’ Annie said. ‘You know, just to make sure they weren’t planning to sneak off.’
Diane grinned. ‘You’re the lady of the hall now,’ she said.
‘I know,’ Annie said as she watched Mrs. Growell, Isabella, and Mr. Fairbrother, feeling more awkward than ever.