The grotto had been designed to give children the illusion that they were in Santa’s North Pole workshop and there was a touch of magic about it that only a high-end designer-and a great deal of money-could have achieved. She didn’t know about the kids, but it certainly worked for her.

She was still taking it all in when there was a tug on the hem of her tunic and she turned to find herself looking at the child from the lift.

‘You’re not an elf,’ she declared loudly. ‘I saw you out there-’ she pointed dramatically ‘-in the real world.’

Oh…fairy lights!

Having done her best to restore a little girl’s faith in Santa, she’d immediately shattered it.

Maybe that was the message. There are no such things as fairy tales. On the other hand, if she’d had a moment or two of fantasy as a child, she might not have grabbed so desperately for it as an adult.

But this was not about her and, putting her finger to her lips in a quick, ‘Shh!’ she folded herself up so that she was on the same level as the child. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Dido.’

‘Can you keep a secret, Dido?’

The child, thumb stuck firmly back in her mouth, nodded once.

‘Well, that’s great because this is a really huge secret,’ she said. ‘You’re absolutely right. You did see me in the lift, but the reason I was up there in the real world was because I was on a special mission from Santa.’

She hadn’t worked as an assistant in a day-care nursery for years without learning how to spin a story. The pity of it was that she hadn’t learned to spot one when it was being spun at her.

‘What’s a mishun?’

‘A very special task. The toughest. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the thing is that Rudolph-’

‘Rudolph?’ Eyes wide, Dido abandoned the comfort of the thumb.

‘Rudolph,’ she repeated, ‘had run out of his favourite snack. I had to disguise myself as a human, go up to the food hall-’