hands on the window sill, staring at the rain. The sound of his parents' argument was still audible through the wall, even though they were trying not to let him hear. He bent forward, squashing his nose against the pane, watching the misty glow of his breath spread magically outwards across the glass. He knew they were fighting about the expense of buying a Christmas tree and he knew it was his fault for asking for one. As his father's gruff voice echoed through the wall, he shut his eyes tightly and wished desperately for a Christmas where everyone could be happy again. It proved to be a wish Anthony would never forget... A sudden torrent of abuse from his mother sprang him into action - he was out of the front door and into the back lane before either of them realised he was gone. It was only when he started walking, his brain caught up with his legs and he realised he was going to meet his brother from his "Scientific Community of Friends'' meeting. Michael was always explaining to him how important it was to realise where the human race had gone wrong in protecting the environment, so that when the domes were lifted, "we don't make the same mistake again''. He tutored his younger brother as to the dangers of car fumes (Anthony had never seen anything on wheels but carts and bicycles), the dumping of hazardous waste and other man-made environmental perils. Personally, Anthony had never known life without the clear dome high above Bermuda but he understood how important everyone thought it was that it should be lifted some day in order to leave normal lives again. The only thing that worried him right now was that if no-one could get out of the dome, how was Santa Claus going to get in? - he'd looked all over but never found a chimney. Most of the children in his class had never heard of Santa Claus, (a fact which, for some reason, had made Michael very angry), but Anthony entertained them with Michael's stories of flying through the air on sleighs, Save our environment things. He reached the edge of the Tom Moore's Jungle, where he usually met his brother, but Michael was nowhere to be seen. The (artificial) rain had become heavier now, so he hurried underneath the nearest tree, just inside the lane. He had never been down the lane before as his parents wouldn't let him.

Now he wasn't by nature a naughty boy, but as with all small boys anywhere off limits automatically sparks an exciting shiver of curiosity and adventure. He set off at a trot, full of anticipation, feeling the rain on his face and hair and wondered if this was what it was like to be an explorer in some foreign land. Before long, the trees and undergrowth began to grow thicker and at times the gnarled branches reached out to grasp one another, casting deep, wavering shadows like dancing spectres across his path. The famous adventurer, however, was (more or less) unconcerned with such trivialities and only paused when reaching a fork in the track. He knew the direction of Blue Hole Hill where the meeting was being held and marched purposefully along the left fork, his decision-making heightening his feelings of adult-like importance. He had travelled about 30 yards when the faint tinkling of a piano whispered through the undergrowth. Anthony stopped dead, suddenly afraid, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling in sympathy. Shivering involuntarily, the little boy automatically glanced upwards for the reassuring sight of the sun, but was rewarded only by the untied arc of gnarled bony arms rustling together in the breeze. A giggle behind him caused him to start and dart forwards, tripping over an upturned root in his haste. He lay there winded, afraid to turn around, no longer the fearless war hero, just a seven year old boy, small for his age, lost in the woods on Christmas Eve. "You're a scardy cat, aren't you?'' said the giggler. Anthony raised his head and found himself staring into the eyes of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was strangely dressed with long wavy black hair which curled prettily at the ends and huge almond-shaped eyes. For a moment, as he stared, time stood still and he was filled with an exquisite sense of deja-vu. Then she spoke, again, shattering the illusion. "You're very short, aren't you? I'm eight and much bigger - but I'll play with you, seeing as its Christmas Eve. Mummy says if I'm nice today I'll get a `Tiny Tears' tomorrow''. Anthony recovered himself from the muddy ground managed to stammer, "What's `Tiny Tears'?'' The girl simpered at him, "Now you're being silly - or did you hit your head? Tell you what, come back with me and mummy'll see to you. I'm Cassandra by the way.'' Before Anthony could respond, she disappeared through a gap in the hedge along a tiny, overgrown path he hadn't noticed before. Her long black hair flew behind her as she ran and she flitted like a butterfly between the trees. For some time, Anthony bumbled after her, awkwardly lurching through the unfamiliar territory. He had been following for a good while when suddenly a bright light filled his eyes and he literally stumbled out of the woods. He was rewarded by the sight of a huge pale blue manor house set in beautifully kept grounds littered with Mexican Lilly and splashes of scarlet poinsettia. The piano was clearly audible now as was the sound of laughter-filled voices echoing `joyful all ye nations rise' across the lawn. Anthony blinked in awe taking in the sights and sounds around him with a rapidly growing happiness - now this was Christmas Eve! If Father Christmas himself had appeared at that very moment, he wouldn't have been surprised. "Close your mouth, silly!'' laughed Cassandra, propelling him towards the house. As they approached, a plump figure donning an apron appeared in the door way and waved happily, "Oh there you are, girl! You had me worried running off like that - and who is your friend?'' The smiling face beamed radiantly at Anthony and again he was attacked by that same uncanny feeling of knowing this person - although he was quite sure he had never met her before in his life. "This is Anthony, mother.

He hit his head back there.'' Cassandra jerked her thumb dismissively backwards and Anthony, with a flood of understanding, realised they were soul mates in crime; but, it was funny - he was sure he hadn't told her his name.

"Oh dear, Anthony,'' said the kind lady, concern shadowing her pretty features. "Let's have a look at the injured!'' She popped him up on the hall table and examined his forehead critically, "Only a scratch, boy - you'll live. Come and have a cookie and listen to the music and then I'll get Calvin to run you home.'' Anthony was once more led by Cassandra towards the music, and he began "What did your mother mean by ru...'' but a wonderful sight met his eyes. It was a large room, lavishly adorned, but the wonder was in the Christmas decorations - they were everywhere! Golds and greens and reds and...and silvers -and in the middle of this Christmas wonderland was the most sensational Christmas tree Anthony had ever seen. It was covered with an abundance of ball-balls and chocolates and underneath there were presents of all shapes and sizes fashionably dressed in colourful wrapping paper and grand matching bows. In the corner, by the window the piano was being played by an older male version of Cassandra and gathered around, all singing harmoniously were two smaller children, an older man and two grandparents. The joyous rapture on their faces reflected in their singing and Anthony too began to sing, as he followed Cassandra towards the piano. "Hark, the herald angels sing Glory to the new born king...'' Cassandra turned and smile, "Don't you just love Christmas, Anthony? Anthony?'' "Anthony...Anthony! There you are - we've been looking all over for you,'' cried his mother. "What are you doing in this old house, boy?'' Anthony blinked and looked around him: everything was gone - all the splendour and the colourful lights and the happiness had just disappeared. The house looked as if it had been stood empty for years - but how could that be? "Anthony, sweetie, are you okay? Come on, let's get you home out of the rain.'' Mrs Simmons led her youngest child out of the ruined house towards home. She would explain to him, when he was warm and dry, the fantastic news they had just received about the domes being lifted all over the world (no-one could have guessed the hole in the ozone could repair itself so quickly) and the new life this would mean for them all, now they could re-open their guest house. On their way home, she would pick up the biggest Christmas tree she could find and make this a Christmas to remember for the whole family. For his part, Anthony knew he would never tell a soul about his magical Christmas Eve - it was a wonderful present just for him.

Sensing his mother's happiness, he began to smile again. And still smiling, he munched on his cookie. SHORT STORY CONTEST CPN