The Christmas of Adventure

©2015 June E.

Philip, Dinah, Jack and Lucy-Ann are excited at the prospect of spending their first Christmas together, but by Christmas Eve all their plans lie in ruins. Things get even worse when a severe snowstorm brings the country to a standstill and leaves Bill snowbound, hundreds of miles away. Forced to fend for themselves in Bill's remote moorland cottage, rumours abound of a strange and terrifying creature lurking in the woods nearby... and with a ruthless thief on the loose, striking at night and stealing birds from the local Sanctuary, the scene is set for a frightening and perilous adventure. Can they stop the thief before it's too late? Or will Kiki be the robber's next victim?

Chapter 1: 'Everything's going to be just perfect!'

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Philip Mannering pressed his nose against the sitting room window pane and peered up into the vast expanse of dull grey sky, apparently talking to no one at all!

'Oh I do wish it would snow in time for Christmas!' he whispered longingly.

At that moment a little white mouse peeped out from Philip's sleeve and blinked up at him.

'Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, Woffly,' he continued – for it was now clear that he was actually talking to the mouse. 'Wouldn't it be wonderful to have snow for our first Christmas in our new home!'

His window looked out onto the front garden of a pretty little cottage. There was a small patch of grass, some windswept, leafless trees, and lots of holly bushes, bright with jewel-red berries. The blue-painted garden gate bore a sign: 'Holly Cottage'. The gate opened onto a narrow lane, thick with fallen leaves. Every so often someone would rush by, huddled up in a thick winter coat.

'Probably hurrying to do some last minute shopping before the village shops close for Christmas,' thought Philip.

He looked back up at the uniform blanket of steel grey, willing it to snow – but to his disappointment there was not even the smallest flake in sight. At last his nose grew cold against the glass pane and he pulled away from the window – the glass now all misted up with his breath – and turned to survey the room.

The sitting room was not large or smart, but it was warm and cosy. Philip could see that Mother had worked hard to prepare it in time for the school holidays. A log fire blazed in the grate, gently crackling and hissing, adding much-needed heat and brightness to the dreary, overcast afternoon. Pine cones had been scattered amongst the burning logs, and were filling the room with a delicious scent, reminiscent of pine trees and deep green forests.

The room had two large sofas upholstered in a soft shade of green, and Mother's comfortable pink-and-white striped easy chair stood by the fireplace. Mismatched cushions in various colours and fabrics were scattered about, and cheerful rugs had been placed here and there on the dark wooden floor. The walls were covered in an old, faded paper bearing a sentimental pattern of pink and white roses, but the doors had been given a fresh coat of clean white paint, and Mother had made pretty pink and white curtains for each window. She had decorated the mantelpiece with great sprigs of holly from the garden, and strings of Christmas cards hung like multi-coloured bunting across the walls.

'A slightly shabby room – but a room with the unmistakable touch of Mother about it – warm, friendly, welcoming... home', thought Philip appreciatively.

He could hear the faint sounds of Mother, busy in the kitchen: the gentle clatter of cups and plates, the hiss of the boiling kettle, and Mother softly humming Christmas carols as she prepared their tea.

Suddenly, a girl crashed noisily into the room, struggling to carry a large, ancient leather trunk. Dinah was twelve years old, a year younger than her brother Philip. Their temperaments were quite different, and they didn't look much alike, but they did share the same dark wavy hair. But whilst Dinah's hair was well-brushed and tamed, Philip's was tousled and unruly, with a curious tuft sticking up at the front.

'I told you to let me help you with Mother's old Christmas trunk – it's far too heavy for you to manage on your own,' said Philip mildly.

'I can manage perfectly well, thank you – I'm not feeble,' snapped Dinah, going over to a small, undecorated fir tree, and setting down the trunk with a thud.

She threw open the lid of the battered old trunk and knelt on the floor beside it. With much rustling of tissue paper, she began to rummage inside.

The battered old trunk had been in the family for generations and was used to store all sorts of Christmas treasures, carefully wrapped in layers of tissue paper. First, Dinah pulled out long strands of tinsel in red, green and gold. Next, she unwrapped some delicate glass Christmas tree baubles. Then she drew out a cardboard box, and lifting the lid she found a shabby, faded angel with a silk dress and fine, gauze wings embroidered with silver thread. The angel had been hand-stitched by Mother when she was a little girl, and every year it took pride of place on top of the tree. In January it was carefully returned to its box, and put back to sleep for another year. Occasionally, one or two carefully chosen baubles were added to the precious collection and awarded a place in the Christmas treasure box – but only if they were very special indeed, and no one ever dreamed of buying a new angel from a shop!

'Oh Philip, these will look beautiful on the tree!' exclaimed Dinah, holding up two large glass baubles in vibrant, swirling shades of red and orange.

Philip nodded amiably, quickly encouraging Woffly to creep back up his sleeve and out of sight, for he knew that Dinah would squeal if she spied the mouse.

'When I'm a grown up, and in charge of my own Christmas,' he whispered to the mouse, 'I won't cut down a living tree and decorate it with tinsel and baubles; I simply won't be able to bring myself to do it. Instead I'll plant a noble fir tree in the garden, and watch it grow taller each year. I might put a string of simple coloured lights on its branches each Christmas,' he added, 'but nothing more. Trees are glorious enough already, they don't need decorations.'

'Where on earth are Lucy-Ann and Jack?' demanded Dinah in her usual forthright tone, jolting Philip out of his musings. 'This is their first Christmas living with us, and I don't want them to miss a thing. Why, I expect they didn't even have a proper Christmas when they lived with their grumpy old uncle!'

'Yes, and we haven't had a Christmas in a house of our own, with Mother, for years and years and years!' said Philip. 'Christmas at Craggy-Tops was fine, but Aunt Polly was always so tired out... and the extra work of Christmas was a great strain on her,' added the thoughtful boy.

Philip and Dinah used to live at Craggy-Tops – a crumbling ruin of a house overlooking the sea – with Aunt Polly and Uncle Jocelyn. Their father had died some years before, and their mother worked long hours in the city to earn enough money to keep them and send them to school. They would see her only briefly during the holidays, and they used to miss her terribly.

Lucy-Ann and Jack were also brother and sister, and were orphans. They had stayed with Dinah and Philip that summer at Craggy-Tops, and together they had had an incredible adventure. The children, together with Kiki, Jack's pet parrot, and Bill Cunningham, an undercover police inspector, had helped to catch a notorious gang of criminals, and been given a share of the reward money! Bill had saved Jack's and Philip's life and had become their firm friend. The reward money had changed their lives completely – it allowed Mother to buy Holly Cottage, a small but dear little village house with three bedrooms, and it meant that at last the children could live with Mother again. To the children's delight, Mother invited Lucy-Ann and Jack to live with them. This was to be their first Christmas all together at Holly Cottage!

Suddenly the peace was disturbed by Lucy-Ann and Jack, who tumbled into the room in great excitement. Kiki fluttered in behind them, and came to rest on Jack's shoulder.

'You simply won't believe the news!' exclaimed Lucy-Ann, grinning from ear to ear.

'Whatever's happened?' asked Dinah. 'Tell us at once!'

Lucy-Ann looked up at Jack and smiled at him affectionately.

'Go on, Jack, you tell them' she said.

Jack took a breath and opened his mouth to speak, trying to keep a calm face, but failing.

'Oh do come on, Jack!' exclaimed Dinah impatiently, before Jack had had chance to speak. 'The suspense is killing me!'

'Good old Bill! Good old Bill,' squawked Kiki, flapping her wings in excitement.

'Now you've really let the cat out of the bag!' said Jack, pretending to be cross with Kiki – who looked really alarmed at the mention of the word 'cat'.

'The postman has just brought a letter from Bill,' he continued. 'He's coming to see us, here at Holly Cottage – tomorrow!'

'Three cheers for Bill!' shouted Philip in glee. 'Good old Bill – now everything's going to be just perfect!'

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