It’s nearly Christmas, which means it’s time for Carrie Hatchett to have another adventure. If you haven’t met Carrie yet, she’s like a female Doctor Who with fewer brains and one, very big, heart.

Carrie’s Christmas stories are exclusive to Starship JJ Green shipmates and cannot be purchased at any online bookstore at the time of writing.

You can find book one of the series, Mission Improbable, here.

Carrie’s Alps Christmas Wonderland Festive Getaway Extravaganza

Carrie didn’t think that taking one Christmas off from her job as a Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer would be such a big deal, but apparently it was.

“Oh, come on, Dave. Just one Christmas, that’s all I want. One Christmas where I don’t have to turf out an illegal extra-terrestrial, solve a mystery or prevent an interplanetary war. Is that too much to ask? Don’t you think it would be nice to sit down with a glass of mulled wine and a mince pie without worrying about Gavin calling you over your communicator for once? Without wondering which part of the galaxy you’ll be dispatched to this time, right in the middle of all the festivities? I just want a normal Christmas for a change.”

They had finished cleaning up after the Christmas Eve office party at her company. All they had to do was to lock up the premises, and then they had ten days of freedom before work began again in the new year.

Dave replied, “I wouldn’t call joining a bunch of old fogeys on a coach trip to the French Alps a ‘normal’ Christmas.”

“What? Mountains? Snow? Reindeer? What’s more Christmassy than that? And don’t call my travelling companions old fogeys. That’s rude. They just happen to have retired and now they’re living their best years.”

“All right. Point taken, but I’m pretty sure there aren’t any reindeer in the Alps. We saw them in Lapland, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, no reindeer. But there will be a lot of snow. You have to admit that. And mountains, big mountains. And pine trees. It’ll be so pretty! You should come.”

Dave heaved a sigh. “No, I’d better stay here. Someone has to remain on duty over the Christmas period in case there’s another galactic crisis.” He looked at her pointedly. “If the last few years have been anything to go by, we’re due another one soon.”

“Yeah, every Christmas it’s the same. Aliens try to invade Earth or there’s some other problem. Every Christmas. Why is that, I wonder?”

“I don’t know. All I know is we have to be prepared.”

“Do we, though? Don’t you think it’s up to the Council to ask another Liaison Officer to be on call instead of us? Don’t we deserve a holiday?”

“I get it, I do. But, to be fair, all our Christmas assignments have ended up being a lot of fun. Wouldn’t it be better to talk to Gavin about how you feel rather than swanning off on a road trip with your granny?”

Carrie frowned, thinking Dave had better not be about to call her Nanna an old fogey too, but he didn’t. He only went on, “That would be the professional thing to do.”

“Hmm, maybe. But you know our manager. He would only try to persuade me it was just one last time, or tell me it was something really important only I can handle. And I’d agree because I hate that disappointed look he gets in his hundred-plus eyes. Come with me, Dave. We can leave Gavin a note.”

But her bestie only shook his head.

“You’re too responsible,” she said. “Let your hair down for once.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted. “It isn’t possible to be too responsible.”

Carrie gave him a sceptical look. “Anyhoo, Nanna’s all packed and I’m nearly ready, too. I just have to take Rogue and Toodles to the pet sitters, where they’re going to be spoiled rotten.”

“For a change,” Dave said sarcastically. “What about Flux? What’s he doing?”

“Oh, you know him. He’s doing his own thing as usual.”

“You mean he wasn’t begging to come along?”

“Of course he was, though begging isn’t the right word. More like insisting. But I said no. What would the customs officers say if they found an alien in my luggage?”

“Especially one that talked,” Dave added. “And it isn’t like you could get him to stay quiet.”

“I’ve been trying to do that for the last five years. Hasn’t worked yet.”

“Has it really been that long? I wonder how much longer it’ll be before it’s safe for him to return to his home planet.”

“He’ll never say, that’s for sure. Are you okay to lock up and set the security alarms?” She reached down to pick up her Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer’s toolkit, which resembled an expensive designer handbag.

“Yeah, no problem,” Dave replied, looking wistful all of a sudden.

“Is something wrong?”

“This is the first Christmas since we started working for the Transgalactic Council that we won’t be spending together.”

“Damn, you’re right.” She sat on one of the office chairs and put her bag on her lap. “Won’t you be with Adrian?”

“No. Things haven’t been great between us for a while. He decided to go to his sister’s, and by the time he told me, it was too late to book a flight to my parents’. They were all sold out.” Dave’s family lived in Gibraltar.

“That’s awful! You can’t spend Christmas alone, Dave. You just can’t. You have to come with me and Nanna now.”

“I’d rather not, and what if Gavin comms us? Someone has to be around to handle the crisis.”

“This changes everything,” Carrie said, talking mainly to herself. “I wish you’d told me before.”

“It isn’t a big deal.”

“Yes, it is! How can I go swanning off, as you say, knowing you’re on your lonesome?” She pursed her lips as she thought. “Right, I’ve got it. You bring your toolkit along with you in case Gavin calls, though I certainly hope he doesn’t. You’re coming to the Alps. I’ll check with the travel agents. There has to be one seat left, surely.”

“Hold on, who said I wanted to go on your coach trip? I hate to say it, but a holiday spent with a coachload of old age pensioners doesn’t sound a lot of fun.”

Carrie’s eyes widened. “Not fun?! Wait, you’ve never met Nanna, have you?”

“Not that I recall.”

“Believe me, if you’d met her, you’d remember.” She thrust a hand into her handbag and rummaged around blindly among her Liaison Officer equipment and the detritus of her everyday life. Her fingers closed on the smooth, rectangular shape of her smartphone. She pulled it out and began to tap the screen, looking up the travel agent’s number.

“Carrie, I don’t want to come,” said Dave.

She barely heard him. She’d found the number. After pressing the dial icon, she held the phone to her ear. “Fingers crossed!”

“Carrie,” Dave repeated, louder, “I don’t want to come.”

At the same moment, the travel agent answered.

“Hi!” Carrie said. “I’m so glad you’re still open. I booked two tickets for the Alps Christmas Wonderland Festive Getaway Extravaganza, but I have another person who’s interested in joining us. I was wondering if there are any spare places.”

“Carrie!”

She put a finger to her lips and mimed a shushing sound.

“I’m afraid not,” the agent replied. “That trip was extremely popular and sold out weeks ago.”

“Oh, no.” Carrie deflated. What was Dave going to do for Christmas? The idea of him sitting at home alone while everyone else was with their friends and family enjoying themselves tugged at her heartstrings. “You’re absolutely sure there haven’t been any last-minute cancellations?”

“I’m very sorry, but no, there haven’t. However, we’re running a New Year’s Exotic Beach Tour Pageant where we might have a seat or two still available. I can check if you like.”

“No, thanks. Nanna hates sand.”

“Then I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

Sadly, Carrie said goodbye and hung up.

Dave looked relieved. “Never mind. I didn’t want to go anyway.”

“But why ever not? The Alps are beautiful this time of year.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?” Carrie narrowed her eyes at him. “Is it because you don’t like old people?”

“Of course I like old people. I like most people. The only difference with old people is that they’re…” he struggled for a few moments “…old.”

“Hmpf. I don’t believe it. You called them fogeys just now, and you said old age pensioners aren’t fun.”

Dave seemed to squirm. “This is all beside the point. I can’t go anyway, so that’s that.”

“But you can’t stay home either!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll invite Flux over.”

“Hm,” Carrie considered. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. But be careful, he’ll eat you out of house and home.”

“Duly warned. Shouldn’t you go now? You don’t want to miss the coach.”

“Okay.” Still feeling upset that Dave would have to spend Christmas alone, or with only a cantankerous alien for company, Carrie slipped her phone into her bag.

They walked to the door together, and she turned out the light. It had been a busy year for the company, and she was looking forward to the break with Nanna. She rarely got time to visit her in between running her business and going on assignments with the Transgalactic Council.

She hugged Dave goodbye in the lobby and wished him a Merry Christmas before leaving. As soon as she stepped outside, an icy wind hit her. She hoped the weather would be nicer in the Alps. If it wasn’t, she and Nanna would just have to stay on the coach and drink brandy and Babychams.

She navigated the car park, careful to avoid puddles already half frozen over and patches of black ice. She became aware of a vibration in her handbag. As she opened the bag, the sound of her phone’s ring tone rose above the wind. She retrieved the device. The travel agent was phoning her back!

Excitement leapt in her chest. Could it be?

“Hello?” she answered.

But she couldn’t make out what the agent was saying. The wind was too noisy. She increased the volume on her phone. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”

“Certainly. I said, a seat has become available on the Alps trip. Unfortunately, one of our guests passed away this morning and we were just informed a moment ago. I assume you’re still interested? The place won’t stay open for long.”

“Yes!” Carrie exclaimed. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear about the reason, but yes, I’m definitely still interested.”

“Excellent. In that case, I need some details from you.”

“No problem.” She hurried back towards her company’s entrance. Dave was going to be so pleased when he found out he could come after all.

***

Strangely enough, Dave turned out to be less enthusiastic than she’d expected. As they waited at the bus station for the coach to pick them up, he barely said a word. He sat on the bench, his duffle bag at his feet, spending most of the time on his phone.

Carrie shivered and peered into the darkness beyond the bus station entrance. They were the only people waiting to be picked up at that stop, and the place was nearly empty. The shopping centre had closed and wouldn’t open again until Boxing Day. Outside, it was raining a sleety kind of rain not quite cold enough to be snow, turning the air humid and freezing. She looked forward to leaving all the grim weather behind and seeing the Alps for the first time.

She looked out again. Still no sign of the coach. It was five minutes late.

Was Dave texting Adrian, trying to make up with him after their falling out? Poor guy. Christmas was the worst time of year to be having relationship problems. At least he now had something to take his mind off things. Not that he seemed to appreciate it. She’d practically had to force him to pack and come with her to catch the coach. But he’d soon see she was right.

Then something occurred to her. In the rush to stop off at Dave’s so he could pack, she’d forgotten to ask what had happened to Flux. The little alien had flown into Dave’s house as soon as they’d arrived and disappeared. She hoped he’d be all right in his temporary home while they were gone.

“Hey,” she said, “did you get a chance to settle Flux in before we left?”

Dave looked up from his phone and was about to answer, but the sudden appearance of a pair of bright headlights at the station entrance distracted him.

“The coach is here!” Carrie exclaimed.

The vehicle barrelled through the empty station, swept into the bay and came to an abrupt stop centimetres from the barrier. Hydraulic pistons hissed and the doors opened. The portly bus driver descended the steps with speed and agility that belied his size.

“Sorry for the delay. Would you like a hand up onto the…Oh.” He studied Carrie and then Dave more closely. “Well, you two certainly don’t need my help. In fact, you might be giving me a hand by the end of the trip.” He laughed, sending his belly jiggling under the strained buttons of his shirt. “That your luggage? Leave it there and I’ll stow it for you. Hop aboard.” He climbed down the final step onto the pavement.

Quickly running down the steps behind him was a small woman wearing a black and white chequered coat fastened with brass buttons and a thick, red, woollen hat with a huge white bobble. Grey curls peeked from under the hat, framing a wrinkled face and twinkling blue eyes.

“Nanna!” Carrie cried.

“Carrie, dear!” the old lady cried in return as she leapt up to capture her in a hug.

Nanna seemed to have shrunk since the last time Carrie had seen her, and she’d never been bigger than a ten-year-old child, but she seemed just as full of energy and life as ever.

“Oooh,” said Nanna, breaking their hug and looking at Dave, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Carrie.” She leaned in and whispered, “He’s very handsome.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend, Nanna. He’s just a very good friend who wanted to come along.”

Dave glared.

“I mean,” said Carrie, “who I asked to come along. This is Dave. Dave, this is, er, this is…Nanna.”

The old lady held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Dave. I’m Mrs Margaret Foster, but you can call me Maggie.”

“Maggie, that’s it!” Carrie said. “Can you believe I forgot?”

“Erm, would you mind hopping on the coach?” the driver interrupted. “We’re behind schedule. Don’t want to miss the ferry.”

“Pleased to meet you too, Maggie.” Dave shook her hand.

They moved to the coach steps. Dave reached out to Maggie’s elbow to help support her, but she bounced up them as if on springs. It wasn’t difficult to see where Carrie’s energy came from.

The older lady had saved the seat next to her, but the only remaining empty one was at the back of the coach, which meant Carrie and Dave would have to sit apart. He didn’t really mind, but there was some shuffling around to open up the seat on the other side of the aisle from Carrie. The driver waited patiently and didn’t move the coach while the rearranging was taking place, which was a wise move in Dave’s opinion. Several of the tourists looked like they might not make another Christmas.

They set off.

It would take four and a half hours to reach the port, and they would board the ferry in the early hours of Christmas Day. Dave fully expected the passengers to snooze the rest of the journey, but once they were back on the motorway, they began reaching into their bags and pulling out flasks and cups. A box of mince pies began to make the rounds, and brandy snaps arrived from the other direction.

“Would you like some tea, Dave?” asked Maggie.

“No, thanks, I’m fine.”

“Go on,” said Carrie. “It’s Nanna’s special brew. You’ll love it.” The two women leaned in and giggled.

“Oh, in that case, I’d love some,” he said, not wanting to be rude and wondering what was so funny.

Maggie poured tea into plastic cup, and Carrie took it from her and passed it over. He held the hot receptacle by the rim and sipped.

Hot tea burst from his lips as he spat it out in surprise. He guessed it was more than half whisky.

Carrie and her grandmother’s chuckles erupted into laughter.

He smiled ruefully. “It’s a very special brew!” He took another sip and then put the cup in the holder protruding from the seat in front of him.

His neighbour, a bald, friendly looking gentleman who had introduced himself as Ernie, offered him the Tupperware container of brandy snaps.

“Thanks,” said Dave, “but I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t have to be hungry!” Ernie protested. “It’s Christmas. Push the boat out. Live a little. You only get one life, you know.”

“Um, okay then,” said Dave. The whisky was already working its way into his system, and he began to relax. He took a brandy snap and passed the box to Carrie. She, unsurprisingly, took two brandy snaps before giving them to Maggie.

Somewhere near the front of the coach, someone began singing the carol, Good King Wenceslas, and in no time everyone joined in, even the driver.

Outside, the dark world slipped past, headlights zooming up the motorway brightening the night. Suddenly, snow broke from the heavens and came drifting down, swirling and whirling in light gusts of wind.

Dave took a bite of the crumbly confection he held in his fingers. Perhaps giving into Carrie’s pressure to join the trip hadn’t been a mistake after all. It might be fun.

***

Despite all the singing and general merriment going on, after a couple of hours Dave fell asleep and didn’t wake up until the coach suddenly stopped. He opened his eyes and blearily looked around. Brilliant floodlights were shining through the windows, turning the night sky red and faint. Peering over Ernie’s shoulder, he saw they were in line of coaches on the approach to the ferry terminal.

“Did you have a good sleep?” asked the older man. “You seemed to be well away.”

“Yes, thanks,” Dave replied, yawning and stretching, as well as he could in the cramped conditions, “though I could do with a bit more. What time is it?”

“Ten to four. The driver made up the time so we wouldn’t be in any danger of missing the ferry, but he might as well have not bothered. Look at that queue waiting to board. Still, at least they won’t be going without us.”

Dave was regretting the whisky tea and brandy snaps. He felt nauseated, and the bright lights were hurting his eyes. He looked over at Carrie and her grandmother. The two women were playing snap with great gusto and enthusiasm, as if it wasn’t four in the morning and they hadn’t slept. He noticed Maggie’s flask had fallen down and lay on its side, empty.

“Oh, you woke up, finally!” Carrie exclaimed. “I was going to wake you before, but Nanna said I should let you sleep. You missed all the fun.”

“Nanna—I mean, Maggie—was right.” He looked around at the coachload of old folks, wondering what controlled substance they were on. Though the singing had stopped, they were all chatting or eating or drinking, or all three at once. It was not the picture of the golden years he’d imagined. When Carrie had first proposed he joined them, he hadn’t wanted to because he thought he would be bored amongst a bunch of retirees. Now he was worried he might not be able to keep up.

The coach engine rumbled to life and the vehicle rolled forward. The queue was moving. It seemed that the ferry had begun loading and they would be aboard soon. He hoped the crossing wouldn’t take too long. He didn’t want to witness the reappearance of the mince pies and booze that had been put away while he’d been asleep.

The giant opening of the ferry door loomed up ahead, dwarfing the buses driving inside.

But then the driver cursed. They were being flagged to pull over by Customs.

A few of the old ladies admonished the driver for his language.

“Sorry!” he replied cheerfully, “but our luck isn’t in tonight. We’re being randomly checked. You’ll have to disembark and line up with your baggage.”

Grumbles and protests rumbled through the coach.

“Nothing I can do about it,” said the driver. “Try to keep your Christmas spirit, ladies and gentlemen. Customs are just doing their job. I’m sure they would rather be home with their families.”

This reminder seemed to put the moaners in a better mood. Slowly, everyone got off the coach and found their luggage amongst the pile the driver extracted from the hold. The sudden exposure to freezing, humid sea air made Dave shiver. He pulled out his phone to check the time. Five past four in the morning.

“Cheer up,” said Maggie. “It won’t take long.”

Her eyes within their wrinkled folds never seemed to lose their twinkle.

“Yes, we’ll be on the ferry soon,” said Carrie, “and then Nanna will break out her second flask.”

They joined the line of passengers that was forming. First, they had to pass their baggage through the scanner, then they would have their passports checked before they could reboard the coach.

Dave mentally went through everything he’d hastily packed for the trip. He didn’t think he was carrying anything Customs might object to, though he wasn’t confident the amount of alcohol Carrie’s granny seemed to have brought along was within the allowed limits. In fact, he guess was correct. Carrie and Maggie bent over their bags, opening them. Tell-tale clinks emanated from Maggie’s. Carrie took a couple and shoved them into the recesses of her luggage.

But Maggie still had too much for one person.

“Er, Dave,” she said, “would you mind…?” She held up two bottles of tequila.

Tequila.

At Christmas.

He sighed. “Pass them over.” Putting down his bag, he unzipped it and took the bottles from Maggie.

As he pulled the opening wider, a pair of beady eyes confronted him.

“Oy,” said Flux. “Do you mind? I was trying to sleep.”

“Flux?!” Dave blurted.

“Flux?” Carrie leaned over and peered into Dave’s duffle. “I didn’t know you wanted to bring him along.”

“I didn’t want to bring him along. I didn’t know he was there. What the hell are you doing in my bag?”

“No need to be rude,” said Flux in an offended tone. “Don’t I have the right to go on a Christmas break too?”

“Of course,” said Carrie. “You only needed to ask. As long as you stay out of…Oops.”

The line had shuffled forwards, and a gap had opened up between them and the people farther ahead.

Dave quickly gave the tequila bottles to Flux, saying, “Stash these somewhere.” He zipped up the bag over the creature’s protests. “Oops indeed,” he said to Carrie. “What are we going to do?”

The floodlights that lit the inspection area were bright as daylight. There was no way Flux could escape without being seen. And they were nearing the place where all the bags were going to be inspected. He was pretty sure that exporting live exotic animals from the UK without a permit was against regulations. He could even be arrested, and, worse still, Flux would draw the attention of the authorities. He was literally an illegal alien. Extra-terrestrials needed a permit from the Transgalactic Council to visit Earth, and they were rarely given.

“Um,” said Carrie. “I don’t know.”

The line shuffled forward again.

“Is there a problem?” Maggie asked.

“I refuse to be described as a problem,” Flux retorted, poking his head out of Dave’s bag.

Maggie’s eyes popped. She pointed at the alien, and then began to shriek with laughter, drawing the attention of everyone in the queue as well as all the customs officials.

Pretending to adjust the contents of his luggage, Dave shoved Flux’s head into the bag and hissed at him to stay put.

“Nanna,” whispered Carrie, “pipe down! You’ll get us into trouble.”

Her shoulders shaking, Maggie replied between chuckles, “My goodness! What is that funny thing?”

Dave’s bag jiggled, but before Flux could reappear in indignation at this new description of him, Dave firmly zipped it up.

The line shuffled forwards again. They were now only three people from the front.

“What are we going to do?” Dave asked, feeling desperate. Flux was a pain in the arse most of the time, but he’d lived at Carrie’s for years and they’d both grown attached to him, flaws and all.

“I see your problem,” Maggie said. “I take it your funny pet is a surprise companion?”

“Yes,” Carrie replied, “and if we don’t think of a way to get him through the checkpoint, Dave’s going to get in trouble, and they’ll probably take Flux away and put him in a cage.”

“Oh dear, we can’t have that. He looks like an entertaining little chap.”

Dave’s bag jerked like a Mexican jumping bean. He picked it up and held it under his arm.

“Were those wings I saw on his back?” asked Maggie. “Could he fly to the coach from here?”

“He could,” Dave replied. “Only everybody will see him under these lights, so there isn’t a lot of point.”

“Now then, don’t give up so easily.”

“He can’t help it,” Carrie said. “He’s an eternal pessimist.”

“Hey!”

“I have an idea,” said Maggie. “Watch this.” She staggered a few steps out from the line, clutching her chest. “I don’t feel very well. Oooh, I feel dizzy! I think I’m going to faint!” She gracefully turned a circle.

Carrie giggled, then called out loudly, “Nanna! Are you all right?” She ran to the older woman’s side, winking at Dave and nodding emphatically at his bag. “Help! Someone please help.” Catching Maggie under the arms, she lowered her to the ground.

Meanwhile, Dave got the hint. As all gazes in the room turned to the spectacle Maggie and Carrie were creating, he unzipped his bag and pulled it open. Flux was sitting grumpily among Dave’s smalls, his wings folded across his chest. “Quick! You have to fly to the coach. Hide somewhere until we reboard.”

Predictably, the little creature put up some resistance to this suggestion, while Maggie and Carrie were doing their best to maintain the distraction. Maggie was asking for a wheelchair and complaining it was the middle of the night and she was an old lady. How could they possible expect her to stand in a queue for half an hour?

Finally, Flux agreed and fluttered up into the night. Dave caught a glimpse of him reappearing out of the darkness and swooping into the open coach door. He hoped he didn’t give the driver the fright of his life.

***

They stopped in Amiens for a slap-up Christmas feast, and then they were quickly on their way again for the last leg to the French Alps.

The old-timers seemed to be finally flagging in energy for this part of the journey. Most of the coach passengers nodded off. Even Maggie, who seemed to have as much energy as three women a third her age, blew up her neck cushion and closed her eyes for a postprandial nap.

Flux had taken up a position in the overhead luggage space. No one had noticed him as far as Dave could tell, even though his quiet mutterings could sometimes be heard over the noise of the engine and the road.

Anxious that they might have missed a call from Gavin about an urgent alien crisis to solve, Dave took advantage of the lull in activity to open his backpack and take a look at his transgalactic translating and communicating device. The light wasn’t flashing, which meant Gavin hadn’t tried to contact him.

“What are you doing?” Carrie hissed, peering across the aisle and into his bag.

“I’m just checking there isn’t an emergency.”

“We’re on holiday!” Carrie protested. “There’s no need to go looking for something to do. If Gavin calls, ignore it. He can contact Belinda if it’s something urgent.”

“If Gavin needs me to do something, I’m going to do it.”

Carrie leaned back and folded her arms. “Well,” she said peevishly, “good luck with keeping that under wraps around this lot.”

‘Oh, I don’t think they’ll notice. They’re all getting on a bit and probably aren’t as sharp as they used to be.”

Her mouth opening wide in outrage, Carrie gave a gasp, and then said, “You’d better not say that around Nanna. She’s as sharp as a tack and she won’t let you get away with ageism.”

“It’s not ageism, I’m just being realistic,” Dave retorted. “Everyone loses their faculties as they get older. It’s a well-documented fact. You and I will too. It’s unavoidable.”

“Hmpf.” Carrie narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I should have let you stay at home, Johnny No Mates.”

She took out a paperback and opened it, angling the back of it so it pointed in his direction.

Dave rolled his eyes.

The Christmas lunch in Amiens had been rich and plentiful, and soon, like the rest of the passengers, Dave found himself drifting off to sleep.

Some time later, Ernie poked him awake. Dave opened bleary eyes, annoyed at being dragged from his restful slumber. The seat back in front of him swam into view, and nausea immediately hit from his stomach, a consequence of the heavy meal and long coach ride.

“Sorry,” said Ernie, “you were sleeping like a baby, but I didn’t think you’d want to miss this.” He turned towards the window.

Dave sucked in a breath. Mountains, snowy-topped and majestic, filled the scene. A clear blue sky was the backdrop, and slopes of deep green pine trees made up the foreground. The landscape looked like a postcard. Dave had never seen anything like it in real life.

“Aren’t you glad you came now?” Carrie asked.

“It is beautiful,” Dave admitted.

The sun hung just above a mountain edge, ready to dip below as the short winter day began to draw to its end. If Ernie had left it much longer to wake him, he would have been looking out into darkness.

“We’ll be at the lodge in about half an hour,” said Carrie. “You and I are sharing a room.” She frowned as his reaction to the news showed in his face. “There’s no need to look like that. I’m much tidier than I used to be. And, anyway, you need to stop being such a fusspot.”

Dave kept his thoughts to himself. Sharing living space with his friend for any length of time often led to friction between them, and it wasn’t because he was a ‘fusspot’, but because Carrie’s personal habits were as tidy as her mind. But arguing about it wouldn’t improve matters. He looked out the window again, taking advantage of the final minutes of daylight to enjoy the view.

***

Carrie stamped the snow from her boots on the welcome mat, and then stepped into the lodge.

“Whoa,” she breathed.

The ground floor was one huge, open plan room. A massive fireplace occupied a large proportion of one wall, surrounded by comfy sofas and armchairs. A thick, furry rug lay in front of it over the wooden floor. In one corner stood a modern kitchen. In another, window seats with embroidered cushions bordered wide windows looking out on the breathtaking mountain landscape. The final quarter of the room was taken up by a long table, its boards worn and polished, and seats for ten people. At the room’s centre stood a huge Christmas tree, thickly festooned with tinsel and baubles, reaching up to the ceiling.

A fire already burned in the grate, and she could feel its warmth even at the door.

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to let the rest of us in?” asked Nanna, behind her.

“Sorry!” Carrie moved to the side.

Nanna walked past her, followed by Dave, Ernie, and six more members of the group. As soon as they set foot in the room, however, all of them halted, marvelling at the luxurious, spacious place that would be their home for the next week.

“Which room is ours?” Dave asked Carrie, giving a slight nod at the duffle bag he was carrying. Under the fabric, something was moving—a certain impatient something, who wanted to be let out.

“Any of the twins,” she replied. “The bedrooms haven’t been assigned to anyone in particular.”

This remark provoked a unashamed burst of movement towards the staircase as the retirees, in a manner entirely undignified for their years, tried to find and secure the best rooms.

Before Carrie and Dave could make it to the first floor, all the rooms except one were taken. Nanna was sharing with a new friend she’d made, Gladys. The remaining twin room wasn’t any less attractive or comfortable than the others, so Carrie wasn’t disappointed. She plunked herself down on one of the two beds and picked up the chocolate on the pillow.

“Yum!” she exclaimed, and popped the sweet into her mouth. Chewing, she asked, “Can I have yours? You don’t like chocolate, do you?”

“Actually, I do like chocolate, as you know perfectly well. But take it anyway.”

She bounced up and took Dave’s chocolate while he carried his bag to the window.

“Let me out!” shouted a muffled, high-pitched voice.

“All right,” Dave replied. “Keep your hair on.” He unzipped the bag. Flux immediately sprang into the air. He hovered, his little wings flapping furiously, as he took in the room.

“Hm, not bad,” the small alien conceded. “But I’m cramped up from your ridiculously small bag. I need to fly around a bit.”

Dave opened the window. “Don’t be gone too long, it’ll be pitch black soon, and there aren’t any street lights up here in the mountain. Don’t get lost.”

“Huh, as if,” Flux retorted. He flew to the window alighted on the ledge. “Mmm, can you smell that air? Lovely.” He stretched his wings, preparing to take flight. “By the way, I got a bit travel sick while I was in your bag. Sorry.”

He took off.

“What?!” Dave ran to his bag and peered inside. “Ugh, he’s only puked on my clothes!”

“Ugh,” Carrie agreed, relaxing on the bed. While Dave and Flux had been occupied, she’d eaten the second chocolate and begun to read the information leaflet about the lodge. “It says there are washing and drying facilities in the basement, along with—get this—a sauna! Oooh, lovely. I’m going to have one before dinner. Do you want to come too?”

“I suppose I’ll need something to do while I’m waiting for my washing to finish, but what’s happening for dinner?”

“No need to worry about that. Nanna loves to cook, and the kitchen is fully stocked for a week. We’re going to have a whale of a time.”

“If you say so.”

“Dave, stop it! Why can’t you just relax and enjoy yourself?”

“Sorry.” He looked remorseful. “I do like it here. The Alps are stunning, and this lodge is lovely.”

“Come on, let’s go and try the sauna.”

The basement was darker and cooler than the rest of the lodge. There was a shower room, and in it were thick, soft, white towels to wear in the sauna after showering. Carrie quickly washed away the long coach journey as well as the nagging hangover from Nanna’s tea. When she was clean, she padded from the shower in bare feet along the raised wooden slats and pulled open the heavy sauna room door.

Dave was already inside and about to ladle water onto the hot rocks. On one side of the sauna a double-glazed window looked out to the mountainside. The lodge was set on a slope, and Carrie guessed only half the basement was buried in the mountain. She could see the dark mountainside faintly illuminated by the lodge’s lights, but condensation was already building up on the glass.

“They have scents you can add to the water,” Dave said, “but the names are in French.”

“Never mind, just pick one. It’ll be a surprise.”

“I’d rather know what I’m letting myself in for.”

“How bad can they be? The lodge owners aren’t going to supply odour of cow manure, are they?”

Dave wrinkled his nose. “You think of the nicest things.”

“Stop wasting time and pick one.”

“What’s the hurry? Do you have an appointment with the Abominable Snowman?”

Despite the heat, Carrie shivered. “Don’t talk about him. I was terrified of him when I was a kid.”

“Were you?” Dave finally made his choice and poured water over the rocks. Immediately, the scent of roses filled the air.

Carrie breathed deeply. “See? No cow poo smell.”

“Did you really used to be scared of the Abominable Snowman?” Dave repeated, sitting next to her.

“Yes. Who wasn’t? A big, hairy white giant living in secret somewhere in the mountains? Don’t tell me you weren’t scared of him too.”

“I don’t think he figured extensively in my childhood. Anyway, if he does exist, he lives in the Himalayas, I thought.”

“No,” Carrie replied, “the Abominable Snowman can live anywhere there’s snow.”

Dave chuckled. “You should see the look on your face.”

She pushed his arm. “Don’t make fun of my affliction.”

“An irrational fear isn’t an affliction. Stop exaggerating.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m usually the one who gets scared. This makes a nice change. But, don’t worry, if we meet any Abominable Snowmen, or Yetis, or Big…feet? I’ll protect you.”

“Huh! Famous last words.” Carrie banished her fear. Dave was right. She was being silly. She leaned back on the wooden bench and sighed. “Isn’t this great? We’re going to have a wonderful week.”

“I think so too. I’m glad I came. I like Maggie and Ernie and the rest of the group, even if they are—”

“Don’t say it!”

“Old.”

Carrie pushed him. “At least you’re finally admitting this was a better idea than sitting at home all alone at Christmas.”

As she spoke, she was idly looking at the window, which was now translucent with condensed steam.

A tall, dark figure passed across it outside.

Carrie gasped and sat bolt upright, her heart thumping and her fingers and toes tingling.

“What’s wrong?” Dave asked.

“Didn’t you see it?”

“What?”

“Someone walked past the window.”

“It’s probably one of the pensioners going for a walk before dinner.”

“No, it was far too big and tall to be one of our group.”

Dave tutted and shook his head. “Honestly, Carrie, one mention of the Abominable Snowman and you’re imagining you can see him. You’re just tired after the journey.”

But Carrie knew she had seen someone, or something, and that something didn’t belong to their party. Her throat tightening in fear, she walked to the window and rubbed a circle in the condensation. She half expected to see a hairy, humanoid face covered in white hair staring back at her, but all that was out there was the sloping, snow-covered ground leading away from the lodge, and the darkness between the pine trees.

“See?” Dave said, joining her. “No one’s there. Nothing to worry about.”

“I did see something. I did.”

“If you insist, we can find out. If someone walked past this window, they would have left tracks in the snow.”

“Yes, that’s right,” she replied. But looking for tracks would mean going outside, potentially while a large, mysterious ape man was hanging around. “Would you go and check?”

“Okaaaay,” Dave agreed, “if it’ll make you feel better. But why on Earth did you come to the Alps if you’re so scared of what might be living here?”

“Nanna really wanted to come, and now she’s retired she finally has time.”

“She’s only just retired?” Dave asked, incredulous. Despite her apparently boundless energy, Maggie looked at least eighty-five.

“Yes, but she didn’t really want to give up working. She was forced out due to ageism.” Carrie threw him a black look.

Dave gave a small cough. “I’ll check outside, but let’s enjoy our sauna first.”

Carrie didn’t particularly enjoy the rest of the time they spent in the sauna. She was too worried and nervous about what she’d seen. Eventually, they showered again and got dressed. As soon as they climbed the stairs to the ground floor, where people were beginning to gather for dinner, Dave was as good as his word and put on his coat and boots before going out.

He returned five minutes later.

“No footprints,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

For a moment, Carrie was relieved, but then she said, “So there was snow directly outside the sauna window?”

“No-o,” Dave faltered. “The ground is sheltered by the lodge in that spot. It’s mostly rocks and dirt.”

“So the Snowman could have been there and not left any evidence?”

“There would have been footprints somewhere around there. It would be a feat not to leave them when the lodge is entirely surrounded in snow.”

“But not impossible. There are rocks, too, and fallen tree trunks.”

Dave grimaced. “You’re insisting on making something out of nothing. Calm down. Your imagination’s running wild. I’m going upstairs to check Flux is back.”

Carrie watched him go.

She had seen something. She knew she had.

The coach driver had dropped off their party of ten before leaving to deliver the rest of the passengers to their accommodation. They were alone, without means of transportation, and without a mobile phone signal. The driver had said he’d be back in the morning, but what if something happened during the night?

***

Carrie was deeply asleep—after hours of tossing and turning, worrying about what might be creeping around outside or, even worse, trying to get in—when she heard a voice. She guessed she must have been hearing it for a few minutes when she woke up because her dreams had been invaded by it. She’d been dreaming she was on a sleigh pulled by reindeer, but then they had transformed into Abominable Snowmen and turned around to talk to her as they approached, menacingly.

“Dave,” the voice was saying. “Carrie? Is anyone there?”

She opened her eyes. Dave was lying on his back, snoring. The voice was coming from his duffle bag, which was peeking out from under his bed.

Damn.

It was Gavin. Their Transgalactic Council manager was trying to contact them. True to form, a crisis involving aliens was under way, and Gavin wanted to spoil their Christmas holiday again by making them deal with it.

She gritted her teeth. Couldn’t he let them have a break for once?

She sat up and grabbed her pillow, ready to throw it at Dave’s duffle bag. But then she had a better idea. If she stuffed it into the bag, it would muffle Gavin’s words.

She took the pillow and tiptoed across the space between her and Dave’s beds.

“Dave?” came Gavin’s voice from the communicator. “Carrie? Can you hear me?”

Not for much longer.

“Carrie, what are you doing?”

Dave’s eyes were open, and he was staring at her.

She halted, one foot in the air, her pillow gripped lengthways across her chest. “Errr…”

“Dave?” Gavin called. “Carrie?”

Dave’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “You were going to shove that pillow in my bag so I wouldn’t hear Gavin, weren’t you?”

Carrie lowered her foot to the floor. “Nooo, I was, err. I was wondering…do you want a pillow fight?” She tried to muster as much enthusiasm in her tone as she could.

He narrowed his eyes and leapt out of bed. After quickly pulling his communicator out of his bag, he said into it, “Dave here, Gavin. Sorry, have you been calling for long? I was asleep.” He narrowed his eyes at Carrie some more.

She returned to her bed and flumped onto it. That was it. Their nice holiday was over. Even if Gavin did that thing where he returned them to the time just before they left to go on their assignment, they would still be too tired to enjoy themselves.

“Oh, hello, Dave,” Gavin replied, in his BBC-accented English. “Please stand by. I’m coming over.”

“What?” said Carrie. “No!”

Gavin probably thought they were at her house, where Dave usually spent Christmas. If he turned up in the lodge and one of the older folk happened to see his gigantic insectoid form, complete with mucus-dripping fangs, they might have a heart attack.

But the sparkling green mist was already beginning to form in one corner of the room.

“Dave,” said Carrie, “tell him he can’t come.”

But he only shrugged and gestured at the mist.

Sighing, she stomped to the light switch and turned on the light. If Nanna or another member of their party did happen to pop their head in, Gavin might be marginally less terrifying in full light.

Their manager stepped out of the swirling green mist, filling most of the spare space in the room. Behind him, the mist faded.

“Oh,” he said, turning his huge head from side to side. “I thought—”

“We’re in the Alps,” Carrie interrupted. “On holiday,” she added.

“I thought you would be home with your pets.”

“They’re with a pet sitter.”

“Except for Flux,” said Dave. “He’s here.”

“I’m not a PET!” yelled the alien from his perch on a bed knob.

“All right, Gavin,” said Carrie bitterly. “Let’s get it over with. What do you want us to do?”

“What do I want you to do?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Carrie, forgive me for being presumptuous, but you seem to be upset about something.”

“Hmpf!” She sat down forcefully on her bed and folded her arms. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“She’s annoyed you’re going to ask her to do her job.” said Dave, addressing the last words of his sentence to Carrie.

“Oh, I see,” Gavin said. “Well, I suppose it makes sense. It does seem rather a coincidence that every festive season on Earth an emergency crops up and I need your help.”

“Exactly,” Carrie whined. “Can’t we have just one Christmas to ourselves?”

“Of course you can,” said Gavin.

“I mean,” Carrie continued, “as well as working full time jobs, we’re always off resolving disputes between alien nations, de-escalating crises, getting to the bottom of mysteries, and then, the one time of year when we might get a bit of rest and relaxation—”

“Carrie,” said Dave.

“You have to ask us to go on yet another urgent assignment—”

“Carrie,” Dave repeated, “shut up.”

“And we don’t even get paid!”

She paused to draw breath.

“Of course you don’t have to work at Christmas if you don’t want to,” said Gavin.

“I’m sick and tired of…what?”

“If you don’t want to work at Christmas, you only have to say. I can always ask Belinda.”

“What?!” Carrie exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us that?”

“You never asked. In fact, you always seem to enjoy going on a mission at Christmas.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do,” said Dave.

Carrie’s mouth fell open. Then she shut it like a trap. “That isn’t true,” she spluttered.

“Yes, it is,” Dave murmured, looking up at the ceiling.

“Let us agree to disagree,” said Gavin amicably. “As it happens, I don’t have an assignment for you this Christmas.”

“You don’t?” Carrie asked. “Then why are you here?”

“Well, I was rather hoping…” Gavin looked around at the bedroom once more. By some strange means, he managed to appear embarrassed.

“What is it?” urged Carrie. “Spit it out.” She instantly regretted her second statement. Gavin did have a habit of dribbling mucus.

“Um…” said the insectoid alien. “I understand this is presumptuous of me, but I was rather hoping I might attend your Christmas dinner. Am I too late?”

“My dinner?!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Gavin! I didn’t know you liked it so much.”

“I confess I am quite partial to your nut roast.”

“Yeah, I like that too,” Dave chimed in. “It’s tasty.”

Carrie felt terrible. She’d been complaining and whining and trying to avoid being sent on an assignment, and it had never even occurred to her to that Gavin might want to come to Christmas dinner. What kind of a friend was she?

“Slight problem, though,” said Dave. “Like Carrie said, we’re in the French Alps with a bunch of old…” he glanced at Carrie “…with a group senior citizens. We had Christmas dinner yesterday, and while Carrie’s grandma can probably rustle up something festive, if any of them see you, you’ll frighten the living daylights out of them.”

“As well as revealing to them that aliens exist, breaking Transgalactic Council regulations,” added Carrie. “You’ll be in so much trouble.”

Though he was a manager, Gavin wasn’t popular in his workplace, mostly due to the fact he was an incorrigible philanderer who had cheated on another, highly respected, manager named Errruorerrrrrhch.

“That is a shame,” said Gavin sadly. “I was so looking forward to sampling some nut roast, if only as leftovers.”

“Wait,” said Dave. “He can stay in here. No one has any reason for coming into our room. We can sneak him food and, to be extra careful, we can keep the door locked while we aren’t here. He can keep Flux company.”

“I don’t need company,” said the small alien, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

He was probably worried about Gavin’s official status as a member of the Transgalactic Council. Flux had come to Earth to ‘lay low until things cooled down’ on his home planet, though he’d never explained exactly what or who he was on the run from. But Gavin skirted so close to the line of illegality himself, Flux actually had little to fear.

“Okay,” Carrie agreed, though she was still worried about spooking the seniors. Then she realised there was an upside to having her manager stay in her room: If the Abominable Snowman did pay them a visit, a ten-foot-tall golden insect with two sets of fangs was bound to be an effective deterrent. “You’re very welcome, in fact. Now…” she yawned “…let’s all get some sleep. I want to be up bright and early tomorrow to enjoy the snow.”

***

When she awoke, Dave was already up and in the shower, and Gavin was lying curled up in a corner, doing a convincing impression of a dead spider. She got up and put on her dressing gown before going to the window and opening the curtains. The view, which had been a sea of darkness when they arrived, was stunning.

She was looking across a wooded valley to a mountain peak. Beyond it, more peaks rose, fading into the distance under the morning sun. The sky was clear and pale blue, but it must have snowed some more overnight because the pine trees were thickly dusted and the snow on the ground was pristine, showing no sign of the coach’s arrival, the visitors’ footprints or tracks of birds or animals.

The clicks and snicks of a large exoskeleton moving behind her told her Gavin was waking up.

She was already regretting agreeing to letting him stay. He wasn’t exactly easy to hide, and if they weren’t careful, someone might hear him talking. Besides, she wondered what he planned to do all day while she and Dave were having fun with Nanna and the rest of the group.

Gavin braced his ten pairs of legs on the floorboards and levered himself to his feet.

“That was a most pleasant sleep.”

“Really?” Carrie asked. “You didn’t look very comfortable.”

“Oh, your floor is far preferable to my usual sleeping arrangements.”

Puzzled and slightly alarmed, Carrie was about to ask what his usual sleeping arrangements were when Dave appeared from the bathroom.

“It’s all yours,” he said. “Try not to mess it up too much.”

She gave a huff of mild outrage. “I don’t know what you mean.” Then she grabbed her clothes from her bag and strode past him with dignity.

“It snowed during the night,” Gavin remarked. “Most beautiful. I do enjoy Earth’s precipitations. I was careful to clean up any droplets that fell from my carapace when I came in.”

“Huh?” Carrie whirled around. “You went outside?!”

“Yes, I went for a brief stroll. I only sleep the equivalent of two Earth hours, so—”

“But someone could have seen you!” she protested.

“No one saw anything. You have no cause to be alarmed.”

She groaned. Gavin was a lovely, kind alien and a wonderful manager, but sometimes he could be dangerously reckless. “I’m going to have a shower,” she announced, giving up on reasoning with him.

When she was ready, she went downstairs with Dave, promising to bring back something for Gavin to eat. The aroma of a delicious breakfast had already penetrated the room. By the time she arrived at the table, it was heaving with the ingredients for a Full English: Bacon, sausages, eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, baked beans and black pudding, along with tomato ketchup, brown sauce, toast, tea and coffee.

Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the spread. She noticed someone had prepared vegetarian sausages, though, she was pretty certain, she was the only vegetarian in the party. That meant only one thing.

“Where’s Nanna?” she asked.

Whoever had cooked the feast—and Carrie was sure it was her grandmother—wasn’t in the kitchen. That section of the open plan area was empty. The other seniors were pulling out chairs and sitting down, getting ready to dig in.

“Has anyone seen Maggie?” Dave asked.

“She’s popped out for a walk, dear,” Ernie replied, sticking a fork into a sausage and lifting it to his plate. “Said she wanted to see the snow.”

“Alone?” asked Carrie, alarmed.

“No one else wanted to go,” an elderly lady replied. “We said we’d come out after we’d eaten.”

“Don’t worry,” Ernie added. “She’s a big girl. She can look after herself.”

Carrie’s Nanna was the exact opposite of a ‘big girl’, but Carrie didn’t bother pointing that out. “I have to find her,” she said to Dave. “That snow must be three feet deep.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, there’s no need. You enjoy your breakfast.”

Dave cast a longing look at the array of dishes, cooked to perfection, and replied, with some difficulty, “It can wait. Let’s find Maggie first and check she’s okay.”

They put on their coats and boots and opened the front door. A chilly breeze and sea of brilliant white hit them. Nanna’s footprints led down the steps and away into the wood. Carrie sighed. What had possessed the old lady to go out by herself? But then, could she complain when she’d always had an adventurous spirit, which her mother had said she’d inherited from her grandmother.

They set off. At least it shouldn’t be hard to find her. They only had to follow her trail.

“This is a bit like King Wenceslas,” said Dave. He sang, “In his master’s steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted.”

“That’s very good,” Carrie remarked. “Do you know any more verses?”

“Considering I must have listened to it five times on the coach ride, I’d be surprised if I didn’t know all the verses.” He continued the carol.

But Carrie wasn’t in the mood for singing. She was worried about Nanna. The snow was so deep where it had blown up against the trees in great drifts, her grandmother could entirely disappear into it and they would never find her.

The footsteps led in between the trees. Here, the snow didn’t lie so thickly. The forest was cool, dark and quiet, the pines allowing in very little daylight. They walked for a few minutes, going deeper in. Nanna’s footprints gradually became harder to find as the snow grew thinner and thinner and was replaced by leaf mould and pine needles.

Finally, they halted. The footprints had disappeared completely.

“Why did she have to walk so far?” Carrie asked anxiously. “Why did she have to go on a great long trek all alone?”

“Try not to worry,” said Dave. “She can’t have gone far. Let’s carry on. We’re bound to see her soon.” He called out, “Maggie?” but the looming trees deadened the sound, so that it seemed to fail even as it left his lips.

“Nanna!” shouted Carrie. “Nanna! Answer if you can hear me!”

They walked farther.

Dave said, “There’s a patch of snow over there. Let’s take a look and see if there are any footprints in it.”

They stepped through several trees to reach the white area Dave had seen. As they drew closer, he said, “I think I can see something.”

He hurried on, leaving Carrie behind. He reached the spot a few seconds before her.

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “There are footprints…Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” she said breathlessly as she caught up to him.

“Nothing,” he hastily replied. “I was mistaken. Let’s go back to the main trail.”

But while he was trying to lead her away, Carrie was peering around him to see what he’d noticed in the snow.

“There are footprints! Let me see them.”

“No, they just look like prints, where the snow’s melted.”

But it was far too cold for the snow to melt. He was trying to hide something from her, but what could it be?

She pushed him out of the way and marched over to the indentations in the crusty surface. When she got a close look at them, her heart seemed to stop beating and she felt the colour drain from her face.

The prints were not Nanna’s. They had been made by bare feet. Extremely large bare feet, with claws.

“It isn’t what you’re thinking,” said Dave.

“Of course it is!” Carrie wailed. “What else could it be?”

“It’s probably a grizzly, or a wolf.”

“There aren’t any bears or wolves in the French Alps. And even if there were, those tracks weren’t made by either of them. I know what did make them, though.”

“It isn’t possible, Carrie.”

“This explains why we haven’t been able to find Nanna.”

“You’re being crazy. No, don’t say it.”

“She’s been taken by the Abominable Snowman!”

***

The old folk at the lodge quickly formed a search party. All efforts to get in contact with the tour company and the French authorities had failed. No one could get a signal on their phones. And the coach driver hadn’t turned up as he’d promised. They were on their own in their quest to find the missing member of their group.

Poor Carrie was beside herself with worry. Dave watched her as she prepared to leave the lodge once again, tears steadily rolling down her face. He’d tried to persuade her to stay there in case Maggie turned up, but she’d refused, saying she wouldn’t ever be able to forgive herself if she didn’t do everything in her power to locate her lost grandmother.

Gavin had wanted to join the search, too—he could turn invisible for short periods of time—but both Carrie and Dave had insisted it was too risky. So he’d said he would see if he could do anything ‘at his end’ to help. Dave was a little concerned about what that meant, but he doubted Gavin could create any problems from their bedroom in the lodge. Nevertheless, he took his communicator with him in case Gavin needed to tell them something.

Ernie had been a sergeant in the army, so he had taken command. He divided the group into pairs partitioned the area surrounding the lodge into blocks. He told Dave and Carrie they were to search the north-eastern section of ground behind the residence. It was thickly wooded and up slope, and it made sense that the two youngest members of the party should tackle it.

“Poor Nanna,” Carrie sobbed as they set off. “Do you think the Abominable Snowman has hurt her?”

“Don’t think the worst,” Dave replied consolingly. “I still think it’s very unlikely those tracks were really made by a Yeti, and even if they were, we didn’t see any of Maggie’s footprints nearby, did we?” He remained unconvinced by Carrie’s opinion that a cryptid was lurking in the area, but he didn’t want to upset her by arguing about it.

“I suppose not,” she replied, “but we didn’t look very hard before we went back to the lodge. I wish Ernie had given us that area to search. I’m sure Nanna’s there with the Snowman. That’s the only explanation for her disappearance.”

Dave could think of a few more explanations, but he kept these thoughts to himself too. He gave his friend a sideways hug. “She’s probably just walked too far and got lost. I bet someone will find her soon. If not us, then someone else.”

“I hope so.”

“Don’t forget we have Flux to help us.” The little alien had flown off to search immediately he’d heard about the missing woman. “He can fly farther than any of us can walk, and his eyesight is fantastic.”

Carrie sniffed and nodded.

They trudged up the slope, digging their boots deep into the fresh snow to avoid slipping. The calls of the other searchers could be heard. Dave and Carrie called Maggie’s name too, waiting half a minute or so before calling again, in case she replied.

But they heard nothing. Apart from the human voices, the mountain was silent.

Dave did his best to remain upbeat and optimistic, but Carrie seemed to be slipping further and further into despair.

The only saving grace of the situation, as far as he was concerned, was that he was there. He was glad he’d agreed to come along and Carrie didn’t have to go through the ordeal without him.

Suddenly, his communicator, buried in his inside coat pocket, vibrated against his chest.

“Gavin’s calling,” he said, unzipping his coat.

“Oh, I hope he’s found her!”

“Sorry, Carrie, but he can’t have found her from the bedroom at the lodge.” Dave held the communicator to his lips. “Gavin, this is Dave.”

“Hello,” Gavin replied. “Thank you for replying so promptly. I’m happy to report I have found the missing lady.”

“What?! How?”

“Yes!” Carrie yelled, punching the air.

“As you’re aware, I have connections with people in the highest echelons of Earth’s governments. I contacted some of them via the Council, pulled a few strings, and downloaded the relevant satellite data. I’m looking at it now. I can also see both of you. You’re currently heading in the correct direction to find the missing lady. Keep going and you should reach her in five minutes or so. But, I warn you, she isn’t alone.”

Carrie wanted to run up the slope as fast as possible to find her grandmother, but Dave managed to persuade her to be more cautious. Gavin hadn’t been able to say who Maggie was with, only that he could make out the top of another person’s head in the small clearing between the trees.

The going got tougher as they continued uphill. The trees grew so close, it was hard to see more than a few feet ahead, and the shade they cast made it even more difficult to see where they were going.

The shouts of the other searchers had faded away, and now they were surrounded by the muffling quiet of the forest. All that could be heard was the creaks and groans of branches suffering under the weight of snow. The noises made the trees seem about to come to life and reach out to them.

They tramped on, the thick layer of fallen pine needles softening their footsteps.

“Oh, I hope she’s all right,” whispered Carrie.

“Gavin would have told us if she looked like she was hurt,” Dave replied. “I’m sure she’s fine, and she’s just talking to another tourist she’s bumped into. She’s probably lost track of time and has no idea we’re worried about her.” He was trying to be reassuring, but even he wasn’t convinced what he was saying was true.

Carrie gave him a sad, fearful look.

Dave wished they had a way of contacting the others. If Maggie was in danger, it would be better to have as many people on hand as possible.

Almost before they knew it, they stumbled into the edge of the clearing. It hadn’t been possible to see it from a distance. One minute they were walking through trees, the next, they were looking down into a steep-sided hollow. Snow had penetrated the gap in the canopy and coated the ground in a thin layer like icing on a cake.

At the very centre of the hollow, the deepest point, Maggie was sitting on a rock. And looming over her, its back facing them was…it couldn’t be!

Carrie sucked in a breath, preparing to shout or scream.

Dave clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back behind a tree trunk.

She struggled, making muffled noises that sounded something like Let me go!

“Wait!” Dave hissed. “We have to tell the others, or find a way to call the police. We can’t go down there by ourselves. It’s far too dangerous.”

Carrie wrenched her face out from under Dave’s hand and hissed, “I’m not leaving Nanna with that monster for another second!”

“Carrie, see sense! That beast has to be ten feet tall and a couple of feet wide. We can never fight it alone. We need weapons, or tranquillizing darts to put it to sleep.”

“Dave, the Abominable Snowman has my grandmother! I have to help her,” she insisted.

“No. I can’t let you do it. We have to go back and get help first.”

Suddenly, she relaxed. “You’re right. What was I thinking? Okay, let’s go and get help quickly, before he hurts her.”

“I’m glad you see sense,” said Dave. He released Carrie’s shoulders from his grip.

In another second, she was gone.

She’d whipped around the tree, and he heard her crunching through the snow as she ran down into the hollow.

“Hey you!” she yelled. “Get away from my Nanna, you brute!”

Dave ran after her.

“Dave! You’re here too,” said Maggie as he reached her.

She was standing next to the gigantic cryptid, who was about twice as tall as her. Carrie had halted and was staring at both of them, open-mouthed.

“Blimey,” Dave said.

“I’d like you to meet…” Maggie went on pleasantly “…I’m afraid I don’t know his name, but he seems very nice.”

The Abominable Snowman, close up, didn’t look half as frightening as Dave had imagined. He had a friendly, intelligent face, rather like a gorilla’s but paler, in keeping with his snow-white coat. His arms were exceptionally long, hanging down almost to his knees, which indicated he spent quite a lot of time in trees. Dave wondered if that was why he’d been sighted so rarely over the years.

He also wondered why the creature had chosen to show himself so freely at that moment after avoiding human scrutiny for so long.

“Are you hurt, Nanna?” Carrie asked.

“I’m perfectly fine. Why would you think I’d hurt myself? Though, I must say, the cold is reaching my bones. I’d like to go back to the lodge now if you’ve both had your fun.”

“Had our fun?” Carrie exclaimed. “We’ve been out searching for you. I’ve been worried sick.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, dear. I can look after myself, even at my age. I was only going for a walk, not trying to climb Everest. And I made a new friend, which is always nice, though he doesn’t seem to speak English.”

“But…” said Dave, struggling to get the words out “…but you found the Yeti! Or whatever he is. After decades of searching, you actually found the Abominable Snowman. How did you manage it?”

“I didn’t find him. He found me. I was minding my own business, admiring the view, when he came up and tapped me on the shoulder. Gave me quite a fright at first, I can tell you, but it soon became clear he didn’t mean me any harm. We’ve been enjoying ourselves, wandering about. He seems to want something, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

The Abominable Snowman began to speak and wave his long arms around, gesturing. As he spoke, he pointed at himself, and then the trees, and then, finally, up at the sky.

“There he goes again,” said Maggie. “I wish I knew what he was saying.”

“Hm, me too,” said Carrie. “But I have an idea about who could help to translate.”

“What?!” Dave blurted. “No! That’s a terrible idea.”

“Who do you mean?” asked Maggie.

“Come with us back to the lodge,” Carrie said, “and I’ll show you.”

“No!” Dave repeated. “How can we…I mean, how are we…? No, just no!”

“Oh, stop fussing,” said Carrie. “It’ll be fine.”

The Abominable Snowman didn’t need much persuading to follow them down the mountain. He seemed to have taken a real liking to Maggie. As they walked, she chatted about how they’d come to the Alps for a Christmas break and how lucky he was to live in such a beautiful part of the world. The giant apelike animal nodded as if he understood and every so often patted Maggie on the head like a dog owner patting his faithful hound.

Dave and Carrie walked ahead.

“I still this is a terrible idea,” he said.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”

“Aren’t you scared of the Abominable Snowman?”

“Well, like Nanna said, he seems quite nice.”

Dave gave her another sideways hug.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“You must have been terrified of Maggie’s new friend, but you ran in to save her anyway.”

“Of course I did!” Carrie replied, apparently incredulous at his remark. “What might have happened if we’d left her alone to go and get help?”

The trees had begun to space out as they drew nearer to the lodge. The peaked roof of the building could be seen, along with the patch of flattened, greyish snow in front where the searchers had gathered to be given their instructions by Ernie.

There was still no sign of the coach or its driver. Dave wondered what had happened to prevent his return.

They passed under a massive pine, whose branches created a tent-like enclosure. At the farther end, the Yeti helpfully held up the tree’s limbs so they could emerge. Snow cascaded from the disturbed branches, showering them in fine powder.

“There it is!” yelled a voice. “Quick, get it!”

More yells and shouts assaulted them on all sides. Dave blinked, trying to get the snow out of his eyes. When he could finally see, the figures of the seniors running towards him appeared, waving their arms and giving battle cries. He ducked down, confused by so many angry elderly people bearing down on him all at once.

“That’s it!” cried the same voice as before. “Knock it on the head!”

“You’ll do no such thing!” exclaimed an outraged Maggie. “Ernest, whatever do you think you’re doing? Stop that at once!”

“Just stay where you are, Maggie,” said Ernie, who, Dave realised, had been the person he’d heard shouting.

“I’ll save you,” Ernie went on.

“I don’t need saving. You’re all getting overexcited and need to calm down.”

Dave wiped snow from his face, blinked again and focused. The seniors were standing around them in a ring, looking confused. It seemed that someone had spotted them approaching with the Abominable Snowman from afar, and Ernie had organised an attack.

He felt sorry for the old man. It was an easy mistake to make, and Maggie’s tone had been harsh. What was more, Dave had the impression, from small looks and comments, that Ernie had a thing for Carrie’s grandma.

Maggie said, more kindly, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, and especially yours, Ernest…” the latter brightened up “… but there’s no need for it. This new friend of mine appears to need some help, and I’m simply trying to oblige.”

“Oh, he needs help, does he?” commented one of retirees. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“What does he need?” asked another. “Is he hungry? Or cold? But he has that furry coat, so maybe not.”

“My granddaughter believes she can help him,” Maggie replied proudly, “but we have to take him to the lodge.”

“In that case,” Ernie said, “I hope it’s not presumptuous of me to offer you my arm, Maggie? I wouldn’t like you to slip in the snow.”

“Your arm would be very welcome, Ernest.”

Carrie smiled at Dave and mouthed Awwww.

Their enlarged party continued down the mountain, none of the oldies appearing at all fazed by the cryptid.

Dave wondered if he was he the only sane one among them. Or was he dreaming? Ever since he’d climbed aboard the coach in England, everything had seemed surreal.

“Don’t you think this is all pretty strange?” he asked Maggie. “I mean, the Abominable Snowman, for goodness sake.”

“Oh, when you live as long as I have, you get to see things you wouldn’t believe.”

“Too right,” Ernie concurred, nodding.

The Snowman patted him on the head.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Dave said to Carrie.

“You worry too much.”

***

“Gavin,” Carrie said as she entered the bedroom, “it is true that you know hundreds of languages, right?”

“No, that is incorrect,” replied the insectoid alien. He was standing at the window as if he’d been looking out.

“Dammit,” said Carrie. “That’s my plan up in smoke.”

“I actually know ten thousand and thirty-three languages, including Betelgeusian, Xhosa and…” He made a sound so guttural Carrie feared he was going to drip mucus.

“Ah, great! In that case…” She stepped aside and ushered the Abominable Snowman into the room. “Could you please ask him what he wants?”

Dave, who entered behind the gigantic humanoid figure, said, “You know what? I just realised we don’t need Gavin’s help. We can use my Liaison Officer’s communicator as a translator, remember?”

“Oh, yes!” Carrie said. “I forgot about that. But this is more fun.”

Dave closed the door. “Maybe, but I don’t know how you’re going to explain to the others how you managed to find out what the Snowman’s saying.”

There was a brief knock at the door, and then it started to open. Dave caught the edge and held it before the caller could come in. “See what I mean?” He eased through the gap, limiting the view of the room’s interior. The door closed. Carrie heard him talking to the person on the other side, trying to deal with the inevitable enquiry.

Meanwhile, the Abominable Snowman and Gavin were talking. Carrie ran to Dave’s bag and pulled out his communicator. As soon as she turned it on, the translator function picked up the strange language and began to regurgitate the conversation in English.

“It’s a pleasant enough planet,” the Snowman was saying, “but I feel like it’s time I moved on, you know what I mean? Especially considering I never intended to come here in the first place.”

“Yes, I see,” Gavin replied. “Strictly speaking, you contravened the Transgalactic Council’s regulations simply by entering the Sol System.”

“I realise that,” said the creature from the woods, “but what choice did I have? If I hadn’t crash-landed somewhere, I’d have been left drifting in space with no hope of rescue. My transmitter was nixed by the asteroid. In that kind of situation, what’s a guy to do?”

“I get your point entirely. I am sure the Council will make an exception in your case due to extenuating circumstances.”

“If you could wrangle it, that would be awesome.”

“I will certainly put in a good word for you.”

“I can’t thank you enough.” The Abominable Snowman sat down on Carrie’s bed, making the springs squeak. “I can’t believe my good luck that I happened to see you last night. I tried to make contact with the locals when I first arrived, but they would always run away screaming. No idea why. After that, I thought it would be kindest to keep a low profile. I didn’t want to frighten anyone. Then I saw you but didn’t manage to catch up to you before you went back inside. I thought to myself, Here I am, with what could be a Transgalactic Council managerright on my doorstep. I’m never going to get another chance like this. I have to do something or I’m going to be here another few centuries.”

“And so you approached one of the humans,” said Gavin, “hoping they wouldn’t be too scared to help you, and that I was fulfilling the usual role of my species.”

Every Transgalactic Council manager belonged to the same species as Gavin. They were chosen due to their instinctive pacifism.

“You got it.”

“That was my Nanna you spoke to,” said Carrie, her chest swelling with pride. “She isn’t scared of anything. But it’s a good job you didn’t approach me. I would have run a mile!”

“She’s a lovely lady,” the Snowman agreed.

The sound of raised voices was coming from outside the room. Dave appeared to be having an argument with several of the seniors. Carrie could hear them insisting that they saw what was happening. Dave was doing his best to put them off, but his efforts were clearly not succeeding.

It was hopeless. It would be impossible to deter them forever, and there was the problem of Nanna. Carrie didn’t like lying, and definitely not to her cherished grandmother, who immediately saw through her anyway.

She went to the door and opened it. “It’s okay, Dave. If they want to come in, they can.”

“But, what about…Is he invisible?”

“Nope. We’ll just have to go full disclosure. It’s the only way.”

She opened the door wide.

***

That week ended up being probably the best Christmas break Carrie had ever had. After the retirees overcame their surprise at Gavin’s appearance and she explained who he was and her and Dave’s jobs, they quickly welcomed him into the group. Along with the Abominable Snowman, they included him in all their games and festivities. They taught them several carols and how to play bridge—Gavin was a natural, they said—as well as several parlour games, though they gave up on playing Twister as Gavin and the Snowman had an unfair advantage.

The coach driver had arrived on the evening of the first day, resulting in a mad scramble to hide the aliens. It turned out the road had been blocked by a huge snowdrift and it had taken a few hours for the snow plough to arrive. They assured him they were all fine and he could safely leave them alone for the rest of the week.

Maggie and Ernie grew closer as time passed and would sometimes sneak away together to take a moonlight stroll or relax in the sauna.

Carrie loved that Nanna had made a new, special friend, but her heart was even more warmed by the sight of Dave getting to know the people he’d disparagingly called ‘old fogeys’. He seemed to genuinely enjoy himself, and, after a few days, he told her his views about the elderly had completely changed. He planned to stay in contact with them after everyone had gone home.

On the last day, which arrived far too soon for Carrie’s liking, Gavin and the Snowman departed first, before the coach was due. When the humans said goodbye to the pair, the Snowman lifted each person up with his long, muscley arms for a hug. Carrie wasn’t too sad about seeing them go. She would definitely see Gavin again, as well as possibly the Abominable Snowman, whose name she couldn’t pronounce, in her work for the Transgalactic Council.

Finally, after taking a last look at the beautiful lodge and its surroundings, she boarded the coach. Nanna and Ernie were sitting together, and Dave had saved her a seat next to him. Flux was safely stowed in his duffle bag.

She sat down next to her bestie.

“What did you think of this year’s Christmas assignment?” he asked.

“Perfect. Just perfect.”

I hope you enjoyed this year’s Carrie Hatchett Christmas story. For more Carrie Hatchett adventures, start with book one, Mission Improbable.