Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Extract

  About Holly Webb

  Copyright

  Hannah turned round slowly. It was like being inside a huge snow globe, she thought. Or maybe a music box. Everywhere she looked there were sparkling lights and Christmas trees. The air was filled with a rich, spicy, gingery smell. It was full of snow now too, the flakes twirling down lazily to settle on the cold pavements. Hannah had never seen anything so magical. She pulled up the furry hood of her parka round her neck and shivered happily.

  “What do you think we should do first?” Mum asked, squeezing her hand. “I can’t believe it’s started to snow. It’s just perfect!”

  “I want to go on that, Mum!” Hannah’s sister Olivia said, pointing at the huge Ferris wheel glittering above the square. “It’s so big!”

  “But it’s snowing!” Hannah pointed out.

  “Actually, I think it’s a great idea,” Dad said. “That way we’ll get to see all of the market and we’ll know what there is to do. And it isn’t snowing much, Hannah, just a few flakes. I don’t think it’ll stop us seeing the view.”

  Hannah nibbled her bottom lip doubtfully. The wheel really was very big. It was moving now, twirling slowly round, and the red-painted seats looked wobbly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be all the way up there. But Olivia was dancing about excitedly, desperate to dash across the square and join the queue. Olivia was two years younger than she was. If her little sister was brave enough to go on the wheel, Hannah wasn’t going to admit she was scared.

  She did sit huddled up close against Mum, though, when they finally got into the little carriage. Dad was sitting opposite, with his arm round Olivia’s waist, holding on to her tight. She was so keen to see everything that she wanted to lean right out over the edge.

  “Are you OK?” Mum whispered as the wheel gave a lurch and their carriage started to rise slowly in the air, swinging back and forth.

  “Yes,” Hannah squeaked. “It’s just… It’s just high.”

  “I know. I’m a bit nervous about it too. Olivia takes after your dad. He always wants to go on those big rides, doesn’t he?”

  Hannah nodded. It made her feel a bit better that Mum was scared as well. Better enough to lean sideways a little and peer at the market below. She hadn’t realized how big it was until now. The huge square was filled with hundreds of stalls and sideshows, all lit up with glittering lights. The Striezelmarkt was the biggest of the Christmas markets in Dresden but there were lots of others – they spread out all across the city. Since they were only there for a couple of days, Mum and Dad had said they should come to this market first, since it was the oldest – maybe even the first Christmas market there had ever been.

  There had been a market here in the square since 1434, nearly six hundred years in the past. Of course, the city had changed a lot since then. Mum and Dad had explained that during the Second World War, the British had bombed Dresden very heavily and hardly any of the old buildings were left. It had made Hannah feel strange to hear that. She’d known about London being bombed in the war but she hadn’t thought about the bombs her own country had dropped.

  “Oh, there’s a carousel,” Hannah said, pointing. She could just make out the horses galloping under the stripey roof. The carousel music threaded faintly through the air towards them, over the rattle of the wheel and the chattering crowd. “And there’s a … I don’t know what it is. There, look.” They stared down at the glittering tower below. “Is it another carousel? There’s figures on it but I can’t see anyone riding on them, though.”

  Dad leaned over to look too. “Oh, I know this one! It’s a Christmas pyramid.” He scrunched up his nose, frowning. “Let me see if I can get this right. A weihnachtspyramide. They’re very traditional. People here have been making them for years. They have a fan at the top – those blades, can you see? Like a ceiling fan. You light candles underneath. Then when the hot air rises it makes the fan spin round. There’s always a giant one at the Christmas market, though I think the candles on this one are electric. I read about it in the guide book.”

  “It’s so pretty,” Hannah said. “Can we go and look at it, Mum? The wheel’s going back down now.”

  “We’ll look at everything, don’t worry!” Mum said, hugging her and laughing. “The tree, the giant advent calendar.”

  “The ice rink,” Hannah’s dad put in, and Olivia squeaked with excitement.

  “Yes, yes! Can we go skating now?”

  “Later on. There’s a place close by where they have a huge Christmas tree right in the middle of the ice rink,” Dad said. “Let’s go and look at some of the stalls first and then we can see everything else. Maybe we could get some gingerbread?” He helped Hannah and Olivia off the metal steps and then sniffed loudly, making them laugh. “I can smell all those spices and I’m starting to feel hungry.”

  They wandered along the pathways between the wooden stalls. Each one was like a little hut and the shiny red roofs were slowly disappearing under a layer of snow. There was so much to look at that Hannah knew she’d never be able to see it all. She kept turning round to gaze up at the pyramid above them and the enormous Christmas tree, which was even taller than the Ferris wheel. Dad bought cups of hot chocolate and Hannah thought it was far nicer than any chocolate she’d had at home. There was a sweet, spicy taste to it – or maybe it was the snowflakes landing on the whipped cream top that made it so delicious.

  Mum wanted to get some Christmas decorations, so she kept stopping to look at the stalls. But there were so many that Hannah didn’t see how she was going to choose.

  “Oh, look,” Mum said, stopping at a display of brightly painted wooden figures. “We could have that Father Christmas one – he’d look lovely on the mantelpiece.”

  Hannah and Olivia were looking at the stall across the path, full of enormous, stripey lollipops. They both had a little bit of spending money and the lollipops looked like they might last a week, they were so huge.

  “Dad, can you ask that lady how much the lollies are?” Hannah glanced back at her parents but they were busy discussing which of the Father Christmases had the nicest face and didn’t hear her. “Hey, don’t wander off!” She caught Olivia’s sleeve. If her little sister went off on her own, they might never find her again. “We’ll ask them again in a minute. Let’s look at the figures. I think Mum’s going to buy one.”

  Olivia muttered something grumpy about wanting a lollipop now but Hannah knew she wasn’t really hungry. They were both full of hot chocolate and the rich spiced gingerbread Dad had bought.

  “They’re beautiful,” Hannah breathed, coming to stand next to Mum. The stall was packed with shelves and shelves of shining figures. Elves, dancers, fairies, tin soldiers and the funniest little carved animals. Hannah smiled at one small cat that looked just like their tabby cat, Misty.

  “Aren’t they? It’s so hard to decide. Some of them are puppets, girls, can you see? The ones hanging up there – they have strings.”

  Hannah nodded, peering up at the puppets dangling from the ceiling. There was a gorgeous angel puppet with silver wings but she couldn’t read the price on the little paper ticket hanging from the angel’s painted foot. She had a feeling that the puppets might be very expensive. No two were the same, and the painting was so delicate. She leaned sideways to look at the figure behind the angel. She couldn’t quite tell what it was, but she thought it was an animal. It definitely had fur.

  “You like it?” The elderly stallholder smiled at her. “You want to see?” He turned round to grab a pole with a hook on one end, obviously made for fetching down the stringed puppets.

  Hannah looked worriedly at Mum. What if the man thought she was going to buy the puppet? She was almost certain it would cost too much.

  “It’s all right,” Mum said, patting her hand. “He’s only being nice.”

  “Here…” The old man held up the puppet in front of Hannah, carefully straightening out the strings. “It’s a little bear, you see?”

  Hannah nodded, forgetting all about the price. The bear puppet was shiny with new paint but there was something about it that looked old. Hannah could imagine it in a museum, in a glass case. It wasn’t a cuddly teddy bear sort of bear. Although it was carved to be round and a bit podgy like a cub, it was a wild-looking creature, with shaggy brown-black fur and sharp teeth glinting in its muzzle.

  Round its neck was a ruff made of red and white sparkly satin, like a clown’s, but Hannah didn’t think it suited the bear. It looked as if the cub would quite like to chew it off. Even with the silly ruff, the bear looked fierce. It had dark eyes that gleamed wickedly as if it wanted to leap off the counter and charge away into the market. Hannah could imagine the bear stealing sausages and gingerbread, sending the crowds squealing.

  “Did you make it?” she whispered, looking up at the stallholder, and he nodded.

  “Yes, yes. I make them all. Is nice?”

  “Yes! Very nice.” Hannah nodded enthusiastically.

  “I make it dance for you,” the old man told her, carefully positioning the wooden cross that held the strings. He set the bear’s back paws on the counter and then began to twist his hand, cleverly bouncing the arms of the cross so the strings made the bear’s paws tap and wave.

  There had been m usic in the background the whole time they had been at the fair. Christmassy music floated across the square from a brass band and the different rides had bells playing jingly tunes. But all that seemed to fade away as the old man danced the bear across the counter for Hannah and a new sound started up. There was only a drum at first, a faint, insistent beat that seemed to get louder as the bear danced on. Then a flute, piping a sharp jig from somewhere close by. Hannah glanced round, thinking the player must be right behind her but there was no sign of anyone.

  The music made the bear dance faster, Hannah thought, and then she smiled to herself. That didn’t make sense – the bear was only a puppet and she knew it was the old man making him dance… But she could hardly see the strings now and the cub’s hind paws were rattling hard on the counter. Its face twisted, the teeth showing more, its small, round ears flattening. The bear looked angry, almost scared, and the bouncy music made Hannah’s heart thump sickeningly hard.

  And then the old man stopped twisting the wooden cross and the bear was a puppet again, sagging on its strings.

  Hannah blinked. There were tears in her eyes and she didn’t know why.

  “What happened?” she whispered, and Mum glanced down at her.

  “Are you all right, Hannah? You look a bit pale.”

  “Um. Yeah… Did you hear that music? The drum?”

  Mum shook her head. “No, only the music from the carousel. I wonder if we need to go back to the hotel? You look ever so tired.”

  “I’m not. It doesn’t matter.” Hannah gazed at the bear cub, biting her bottom lip. The stallholder had made the puppet sit, its hind paws stuck out straight in front, the strings coiled neatly beside it. Its pointed muzzle was different now, carved so it was almost smiling. The cub was such a handsome creature in its stripey ruff. There was nothing of the sad, angry bear from before.

  “It dances nice,” the old man said, smiling at Hannah, and she smiled back slowly. Had the old man seen what had happened? He must have done – he had been the one making the bear dance so strangely. But he didn’t seem troubled. He tapped the bear’s wooden head affectionately with a fingertip and chattered on. “It is good carving, I am very pleased. Nice paint. But perhaps you like something pretty instead? A little Christmas fairy?” He waved at the shelves behind him, the line of wooden dolls, and began to pick up the bear’s strings, ready to hang it back up on the ceiling.

  Hannah shook her head and reached out for the bear. But her fingers hovered over its paws – she didn’t quite dare to touch it. “No! Please don’t put it away. It’s beautiful…” She tugged at Mum’s coat sleeve and whispered, “Is it expensive? Have I got enough money?”

  The old man smiled again and held up the ticket tied to the bear. Mum made a thoughtful “Mmmm” noise, and Dad shook his head.

  “That’s quite a bit, Hannah. It would be all the spending money we said you could have and a little more. Nothing left over for amazing lollipops.” He waved at the stall behind them and Olivia danced up and down impatiently.

  “Can we go and get a lolly now?”

  “Special price, for the bear and the Father Christmas,” the old man put in, scribbling something down on a pad and showing it to Mum.

  “Well, maybe… Do you really want the puppet, Hannah? You haven’t had a chance to see anything else yet! There are so many markets and it’s our first day here.”

  “I really, really want it. The bear’s special, Mum. Can’t you see?” This time Hannah let herself touch the bear’s wooden paw and just for a moment it felt like fur.

  “What did you want to buy that ugly bear for?” Olivia asked, wrinkling her nose as they walked on through the bustling market. “Dad took me to buy the biggest lollipop you’ve ever seen while you were paying. And I’ve got money left.”

  “It’s not ugly,” Hannah said, hugging the gold paper bag with the bear tight against her parka. “It’s beautiful. And sweets don’t last long. I wanted something I can keep forever.”

  She didn’t say anything about the music, or the way the bear’s face had changed. She still wasn’t sure it had actually happened, but she knew the bear was special. She’d had to buy it.

  Olivia shrugged and went back to pestering Dad about when they were going to go ice skating.

  “You haven’t changed your mind?” Mum said, a little anxiously, and Hannah smiled at her.

  “No. I love it. Can we go and look at the Christmas pyramid now? The puppet man had one on his stall, did you see? But it didn’t have any candles in it.”

  Mum nodded. “Good idea.”

  They followed the brightly lit pathways between the stalls, peering up every so often at the pyramid towering above. It must have about six or seven layers, Hannah thought. Dad was right – it was meant to look as if it was powered by candles. Except the candles on this huge pyramid were electric ones, taller than Hannah.

  Even Olivia went silent when they arrived in front of it. It was mesmerizing, standing there watching as the painted figures went slowly spinning past – soldiers in red uniforms, dancing fairies and a crowd of ice skaters in medieval-looking clothes. Hannah loved the top layer, which was all angels, playing long trumpets out into the crowd. There was a layer of animals too, with a bear quite like her puppet. She patted the bag lovingly and leaned against Mum’s shoulder.

  “It’s starting to snow again,” Mum said. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel and get some dinner? It’s been a long day – we were up so early for the flight.”

  “But ice skating…” Olivia murmured, swallowing the end of her words in a yawn. “I suppose we could go tomorrow…”

  “I promise,” Dad told her. “Tomorrow’s going to be amazing.”

  Back at the hotel after dinner, Olivia’s tiredness was making her even sillier and more annoying than usual. She wouldn’t stop dancing about and bumping into things, and she kept jumping on Hannah’s bed while she was trying to read her book.

  “Get off,” Hannah muttered. “We’re meant to be going to sleep. You said you were tired!”

  “I’m not tired now,” Olivia sang, twirling round and round in her pyjamas. “I’m on a Christmas pyramid!”

  “Just stop it!” Hannah snapped. “I’m going to clean my teeth. Get into bed!”

  “Girls, you were supposed to be going to bed!” Mum called from the adjoining room, and Hannah glared at her little sister.

  “See!”

  Olivia slumped down on to the bed and stuck out her tongue. Hannah marched into the bathroom and shut the door hard.

  She couldn’t really hear Olivia from inside the bathroom but she seemed to have gone quiet. Perhaps she was nearly asleep, Hannah thought hopefully, sneaking the door open again.

  She wasn’t. She was sitting on Hannah’s bed, the bag from the market stall on her lap, and she was dancing the bear puppet around on the bedspread. The strings were tangled up already.

  “What are you doing?” Hannah gasped, staring at her sister in horror. “Did you take it out of the bag? Give it back! I never said you could play with it!” She lunged for the bear puppet, trying to snatch it out of Olivia’s hands.

  “I’m only looking!” Olivia wailed, not letting go.

  “Give it to me!” Hannah pulled hard. There was a cracking, splitting noise and the bear’s arm came off.

  “You broke it!” Olivia whispered.

  “My bear!” Hannah let the puppet drop on to the rumpled bedcover and stared at it. All that magic and strangeness – and it had gone. The bear cub was just a broken, splintered toy now.

  “What on earth is going on?” Dad put his head round the connecting door between the rooms. Then he came right in and looked at them sternly. “What are you two arguing about? You’re supposed to be asleep!”

  Hannah handed him the bear, too upset to speak, and Dad turned it over in his hands with a sigh. “Broken already? I don’t believe it, Hannah. You’ve only had it a couple of hours.”

  Hannah swallowed her tears, her voice shaking as she tried to speak. That just wasn’t fair. “Olivia took it out of the bag! I never said she could play with it! I hadn’t even unwrapped it!”

 

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