The Puffin Book of Christmas Stories Read online

  Contents

  The Christmas Party (from A Northern Childhood) George Layton

  The Silver Horse Ursula Moray Williams

  Just Like an Angel Gillian Cross

  The Real Father Christmas Kate Petty

  Why the Chimes Rang Raymond MacDonald Alden

  Little Brown Jesus Joan O’Donovan

  The Box of Magic Malorie Blackman

  Christmas Is Coming (from The Country Child) Alison Uttley

  Schnitzle, Schnotzle, Schnootzle Ruth Sawyer

  Mrs Mudd’s Cross Christmas Alison Prince

  The Story of the Christmas Rose retold by Norah Montgomerie

  Not Just for Christmas Rob Childs

  Marley’s Ghost (from A Christmas Carol) Charles Dickens

  Simon and the Snow Gino Alberti

  Baboushka retold by Caitlin Matthews

  Acknowledgements

  About the Book

  A new collection of Christmas stories with something for all moods – there’s tradition, real life, humour and most importantly, plenty of the magic of Christmas. Writers range from Charles Dickens to Gillian Cross and Malorie Blackman.

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF CHRISTMAS STORIES

  Wendy Cooling was educated in Norwich and then spent time travelling the world. On her return to England she trained as a teacher, and taught English in London for many years. She left teaching to work on the promotion of books and reading as Head of the Children’s Book Foundation (now Booktrust), and later founded Bookstart, the national programme that helps to bring books to young readers.

  Some other books edited by Wendy Cooling

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF STORIES FOR FIVE-YEAR-OLDS

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF STORIES FOR SIX-YEAR-OLDS

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF STORIES FOR SEVEN-YEAR-OLDS

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF STORIES FOR EIGHT-YEAR-OLDS

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF STORIES FOR NINE-YEAR-OLDS

  THE PUFFIN BOOK OF STORIES FOR TEN-YEAR-OLDS

  The Christmas Party

  (from A Northern Childhood)

  GEORGE LAYTON

  Our classroom looked smashing. Lots of silver tinsel and crepe paper and lanterns. We’d made the lanterns, but Miss Taylor had bought the rest herself, out of her own money. Oh, only today and tomorrow and then we break up. Mind you, if school was like this all the time, I wouldn’t be bothered about breaking up. Putting up Christmas decorations and playing games – much better than doing writing and spelling any day. I watched the snow coming down outside. Smashing! More sliding tomorrow. I love Christmas. I wish it was more than once a year. Miss Taylor started tapping on the blackboard with a piece of chalk. Everybody was talking and she kept on tapping until the only person you could hear was Norbert Lightowler.

  ‘Look if I get a six and land on you, you get knocked off and I still get another go!’

  The whole class was looking at him.

  ‘Look, when Colin got a six, he landed on me and he got another …!’

  Suddenly he realized that he was the only one talking and he started going red.

  ‘Thank you, Norbert, I think we all know the rules of Ludo.’

  Miss Taylor can be right sarcastic sometimes. Everybody laughed. Even Miss Taylor smiled.

  ‘Now, since it is getting so noisy, we’re going to stop these games and do some work.’

  Everybody groaned and Tony and me booed – quietly so Miss Taylor couldn’t hear. She hates people that boo. She says people who boo are cowards.

  ‘Who is that booing?’

  We must have been booing louder than we thought.

  ‘Who is that booing?’

  Miss Taylor looked at Tony. I looked at Tony. They both looked at me. I put my hand up.

  ‘It was me, Miss.’

  Tony put his hand up.

  ‘It was me an’ all, Miss.’

  She looked at us.

  ‘You both know what I think of booing, don’t you?’

  We nodded.

  ‘Yes, Miss.’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’

  ‘Don’t ever let me hear it again.’

  We shook our heads.

  ‘No, Miss.’

  ‘No, Miss.’

  She turned to the class.

  ‘Now, the work I have in mind is discussion work.’

  Everybody groaned again, except me and Tony.

  ‘I thought we’d discuss tomorrow’s Christmas party!’

  We all cheered and Miss Taylor smiled. We have a Christmas party every year, the whole school together in the main hall. Each class has its own table and we all bring the food from home.

  ‘Now, does everybody know what they’re bringing from home for the party tomorrow?’

  I knew. I was bringing a jelly. I put my hand up.

  ‘I’m bringing a jelly, Miss!’

  Everybody started shouting at once and Miss Taylor moved her hands about to calm us down.

  ‘All right, all right, one at a time. Don’t get excited. Jennifer Greenwood, what are you bringing?’

  Jennifer Greenwood was sitting in the back row next to Valerie Burns. She wriggled her shoulders and rolled her head about and looked down. She always does that when she’s asked a question. She’s daft is Jennifer Greenwood.

  ‘C’mon, Jennifer, what are you bringing for tomorrow?’

  She put her hand up.

  ‘Please, Miss, I’m bringing a custard trifle, Miss.’

  Norbert Lightowler pulled his mouth into a funny shape and pretended to be sick.

  ‘Ugh, I hate custard. I’m not gonna have any of that!’

  Everybody laughed, except Miss Taylor.

  ‘Well, Norbert, if I was Jennifer I wouldn’t dream of giving you any. Right, Jennifer?’

  Jennifer just rolled her head about and giggled with Valerie Burns. Norbert was looking down at his desk.

  ‘And, Norbert, what are you bringing tomorrow?’

  ‘Polony sandwiches, Miss, my mum’s making ’em, and a bottle of mixed pickles, Miss, homemade!’

  Miss Taylor said that would be lovely, and carried on asking right round the class. Tony said that he was bringing a Christmas cake. I was bringing the jelly that my mum was going to make, and Colin Wilkinson was bringing some currant buns. Valerie Burns said that she was bringing some lemon curd tarts, and Freda Holdsworth called her a spiteful cat because she was bringing the lemon curd tarts, and Valerie Burns knew she was bringing lemon curd tarts because she’d told her and she was a blooming copycat. Anyway Miss Taylor calmed her down by saying that it was a good job they were both bringing lemon curd tarts, because then there would be enough for everybody, and everybody would want one, wouldn’t they? And she asked everybody who would want a lemon curd tart to put their hands up, and everybody put their hands up. Even I put my hand up and I hate lemon curd. Well, it was Christmas.

  After everybody had told Miss Taylor what they were bringing, she said that there’d be enough for the whole school, never mind just our class, but we should remember that Christmas isn’t just for eating and parties, and she asked Tony what the most important thing about Christmas is.

  ‘Presents, Miss!’

  ‘No, Tony, not presents. Christmas is when the baby Jesus was born, and that is the most important thing, and when you’re all enjoying your presents and parties this year, you must all remember that. Will you all promise me?’

  Everybody promised that they’d remember Jesus and then Miss Taylor started asking us all how we were going to spend Christmas. Freda Holdsworth said she was going to Bridlington on Christmas Eve to stay with her cousin, and on Christmas Eve they’d both put their stockings up for Father Christmas, but before they’d go to bed, they’d leave a glass of milk and some biscuits for him in case he was hungry. Norbert Lightowler said that that’s daft because there’s no such thing as Father Christmas. Some of the others agreed, but most of them said course there is. I just wasn’t sure. What I can’t understand is, that if there is a Father Christmas, how does he get round everybody in one night? I mean the presents must come from somewhere, but how can he do it all by himself? And Norbert said how can there be only one Father Christmas, when he’d seen two down in town in Baldwin Street and another outside the fish market, and Neville Bastowe said he’d seen one in Dickenson’s. Well, what about the one my mum had taken me to see at the Co-op? He’d promised to bring me a racer.

  ‘Please, Miss, there’s one at the Co-op an’ all. He’s promised to bring me a racer.’

  And then Miss Taylor explained that all these others are Father Christmas’s brothers and relations who help out because he’s so busy and Freda Holdsworth said Miss Taylor was right, and Norbert said he’d never thought of that, but that Paul Hopwood, he’s in 2B, had told him that Father Christmas is just his dad dressed up, and I said that that’s daft and it couldn’t be because Father Christmas comes to our house every year and I haven’t got a dad, and Miss Taylor said that if those who didn’t believe in Father Christmas didn’t get any presents, they’d only have themselves to blame, and I agreed! Then she asked me what I’d be doing on Christmas Day.

  ‘Well, Miss, when I wake up in the morning, I’ll look round and see what presents I’ve got, and I’ll play with them and I’ll empty my stocking, and usually there are some sweets so I’ll eat them, and when I’ve played a bit more I’ll go and wake my mum up and show her what I’ve got, and then I’ll wake my Auntie Doreen – she always stays with us every Christmas; and then a
fter breakfast I’ll play a bit more, and then we’ll have Christmas dinner, and then we’ll go to my grandad’s and I’ll play a bit more there, and then I’ll go home to bed, and that’ll be the end!’

  Miss Taylor said that all sounded very nice and she hoped everybody would have such a nice Christmas, but she was surprised I wasn’t going to church. Well, I told her that there wouldn’t really be time because my grandad likes us to be there early to hear Wilfred Pickles on the wireless visiting a hospital, and to listen to the Queen talking, and then the bell went for home-time and Miss Taylor said we could all go quietly and told us not to forget our stuff for the party.

  I went with Tony to get our coats from the cloakroom. Everybody was talking about the party and Barry was there shouting out that their class was going to have the best table because their teacher had made them a Christmas pudding with money in it! I told him that was nothing because Miss Taylor had given everybody in our class sixpence, but he didn’t believe me.

  ‘Gerraway, you bloomin’ fibber.’

  ‘She did, didn’t she, Tony?’

  Tony shook his head.

  ‘Did she heckers like – she wouldn’t give ’owt away.’

  Huh! You’d think Tony’d’ve helped me kid Barry along.

  ‘Well, she bought all our Christmas decorations for the classroom …’ and I went to get my coat. I took my gloves out of my pocket and they were still soaking wet from snowballing at playtime, so I thought I’d put them on the pipes to dry.

  ‘Hey, Tony, my gloves are still sodden.’

  ‘Well put ’em on the pipes.’

  ‘Yeh, that’s a good idea.’

  While they dried I sat on the pipes. Ooh, it was lovely and warm. There’s a window above the basins and I could see the snow was still coming down, really thickly now.

  ‘Hey, it isn’t half going to be deep tomorrow.’

  Everybody had gone now except for Barry, Tony and me. Tony was standing on the basins looking out of the window and Barry was doing up his coat. It has a hood on it. I wish I had one like it. I could see through the door into the main hall where the Christmas tree was. It looked lovely. Ever so big. It was nearly up to the ceiling.

  ‘Hey, isn’t it a big Christmas tree?’ Tony jumped down from the basin and came over to where I was sitting.

  ‘Yeh. It’s smashing. All them coloured balls. Isn’t it lovely, eh, Barry?’

  Barry came over.

  ‘Not bad. C’mon you two, let’s get going, eh?’

  ‘Just a sec, let’s see if my gloves are dry.’

  They weren’t really but I put them on. As I was fastening my coat, Barry said how about going carol singing to get a bit of money.

  Tony was quite keen, but I didn’t know. I mean, my mum’d be expecting me home round about now.

  ‘I suppose you can’t come because your mum’ll be cross with you, as usual!’

  Huh. It’s all right for Barry. His mum and dad aren’t bothered where he goes.

  ‘Course I’ll come. Where do you want to go?’

  Barry said down near the woods where the posh live, but Tony said it was useless there because they never gave you nowt. So we decided to go round Belgrave Road way, where it’s only quite posh. It takes about ten minutes to get to Belgrave Road from our school and on the way we argued about which carols to sing. I wanted ‘Away in a Manger’ but Barry wanted ‘O Come all Ye Faithful’.

  ‘ “Away in a Manger” isn’t half as good as “O Come all Ye Faithful”, is it, Tony?’

  Tony shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I quite like “Once in Royal David’s City”.’

  In the end we decided to take it in turns to choose. Belgrade Road’s ever so long and we started at number three with ‘O Come all Ye Faithful’.

  ‘O Come all ye faithful, joyful and trium …’

  That was as far as we got. A bloke opened the door, gave us three halfpence and told us to push off.

  Tony was disgusted.

  ‘That’s a good start, halfpenny each.’

  Barry told him to stop grumbling.

  ‘It’s better than nothing. C’mon.’

  We went on to number five and Tony and Barry started quarrelling again because Tony said it was his turn to choose, but Barry wanted his go again because we’d only sung one line. So we did ‘O Come all Ye Faithful’ again.

  ‘Oh come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, Oh …’

  We didn’t get any further this time either. An old lady opened the door and said her mother was poorly so could we sing a bit quieter. We started once more but she stopped us again and said it was still just a little bit too loud and could we sing it quieter.

  ‘O come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant, O come ye, o come ye to Be—eth—lehem …’

  And we sang the whole thing like that, in whispers. We could hardly hear each other. I felt daft and started giggling and that set Tony and Barry off, but the old lady didn’t seem to notice. She just stood there while we sang and when we finished she said thank you and gave us twopence each.

  At the next house we sang ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ right through and then rang the doorbell, but nobody came. We missed number nine out because it was empty and up for sale, and at number eleven we sang ‘Away in a Manger’.

  We went to the end of the road singing every carol we knew. We must’ve made about a pound between us by the time we got to the other end, and Barry said how about going back and doing the other side of the road. I was all for it, but I just happened to see St Chad’s clock. Bloomin’ heck! Twenty to nine! I couldn’t believe it. I thought it’d be about half-past six, if that. Twenty to nine!

  ‘Hey, I’d better get going. It’s twenty to nine. My mum’ll kill me!’

  The other two said they were going to do a bit more carol singing, so they gave me my share of the money and I ran home as fast as I could. I took a short cut through the snicket behind the fish and chip shop and I got home in about five minutes. I could see my mum standing outside the front door talking to Mrs Theabould, our next door neighbour. She saw me and walked towards me. I tried to act all calm as if it was only about half-past five or six o’clock.

  ‘Hello, Mum, I’ve been carol singing.’

  She gave me a clout. She nearly knocked me over. Right on my freezing cold ear an’ all.

  ‘Get inside, you! I’ve been going mad with worry. Do you know what time it is? Nine o’clock. Get inside!’

  She pushed me inside and I heard her thank Mrs Theabould and come in after me. I thought she was going to give me another clout, but she just shouted at me, saying that I was lucky she didn’t get the police out, and why didn’t I tell her where I was? By this time I was crying my head off.

  ‘But I was only bloomin’ carol singing.’

  ‘I’ll give you carol singing. Get off to bed,’ and she pushed me upstairs into my bedroom.

  ‘But what about my jelly for tomorrow? Have you made it?’

  I thought she was going to go mad.

  ‘Jelly! I’ll give you jelly. If you think I’ve nothing better to do than make jellies while you’re out roaming the streets! Get to bed!’

  ‘But I’ve told Miss Taylor I’m bringing a jelly. I’ve got to have one. Please, Mum.’

  She just told me to wash my hands and face and get to bed.

  ‘And if I hear another word out of you, you’ll get such a good hiding, you’ll wish you hadn’t come home,’ and she went downstairs.

  I didn’t dare say another word. What was I going to do about my jelly? I had to bring one. I’d promised. There was only one thing for it. I’d have to make one myself. So I decided to wait until my mum went to bed, and then I’d go downstairs and make one. I don’t know how I kept awake. I’m sure I nodded off once or twice, but after a while I heard my mum switch her light out, and when I’d given her enough time to get to sleep, I crept downstairs.

  I’ve seen my mum make jellies tons of times and I knew you had to have boiling water, so I put the kettle on. I looked in the cupboard for a jelly and at first I thought I’d had it, but I found one and emptied it into a glass bowl. It was a funny jelly. Not like the ones my mum usually has. It was sort of like a powder. Still, it said jelly on the packet, so it was all right. A new flavour most likely. I poured the hot water into a bowl, closed the cupboard door, switched off the light, and took the jelly upstairs and I put it under my bed. I could hear my mum snoring so I knew I was all right, and I went to sleep.