Page 21 of The Merry Christmas Project

On Christmas Eve, once all the market traders had cleared away their stalls, carollers would gather around the tree. Local people would join in and according to Nell, a lovely time was had by all. In previous years, I’d volunteered to work on Christmas Eve, to let my colleagues with family commitments have the time off instead. But this year, for the first time, it looked like I’d be spending the evening here. I could think of worse places, I mused, gazing around and imagining how pretty everywhere was going to look, festooned with twinkling lights …

‘Oof.’ Nell struggled to lift a bulging carrier bag onto the counter one-handed, and I dragged myself from my thoughts. I was supposed to be doing all the heavy work for her.

‘Whoops. Sorry,’ I said, wrestling the bag off her. ‘Let me do that.’

‘Thanks, Merry. There you are, lovey, that’ll be five pounds fifty, please,’ said Nell, allowing me to pass the bag to the customer. The man counted out the exact money and placed it in her palm.

‘And here’s a free sample of Nell’s new wasabi peas for you to try,’ I said, handing him a small paper bag.

‘Cheers, ladies,’ he said, pocketing the freebie. ‘Just the job to spice up my Saturday night, eh ?’

After he’d gone, Nell thrust both hands into her pockets and instantly cried out in pain. ‘Ouch !’

This was about the tenth time she’d forgotten about her bad hand and hurt herself.

‘Not again !’ I said, wincing at the look of agony on her face.

‘Just sit down over there out of the way,’ I said firmly, nodding to the stools behind us. ‘I can serve the next customers.’

‘But I know what my regulars like and you’re too stingy,’ she moaned until noticing my stern expression. ‘OK, fine.’

She sat down underneath the shelves containing my candles and a sign that I’d bought her for her birthday a few years ago which read : You don’t have to be nuts to work here, but it helps.

‘I’m thinking of your profits,’ I retorted. ‘Left to you, you’d give them double and charge them half.’

‘But that’s what makes small businesses special : service with a smile and a little something extra for their loyalty,’ Nell replied. ‘I know I’m a soft touch, but I can’t help it.’

‘You’re perfect just as you are,’ I said. ‘Nutty, but nice.’

Other stallholders yelled out their offers at the top of their voices, competing with each other for the best bargains. But it occurred to me that Nell’s welcoming smile and natural warmth spoke far louder than their brash announcements.

For the next few minutes, she stayed put, watching me like a hawk as I scooped up hazelnuts and almonds, chocolate-covered raisins and dried dates, figs and apricots for a steady stream of customers.

‘Time for a break, I think,’ I said to her during a lull in business.

Astrid had dropped off a flask of hot chocolate and some of her homemade pfefferkuchen biscuits on her way to take Otto for his big weekend walk and I poured us both a cup each and joined her on the other stool.

‘This tastes of Christmas,’ I said, inhaling the cinnamon-scented steam. ‘Curled up on the sofa under a blanket, the rosy glow from the lights on the tree and the flames of the log burner. Heaven.’

Of course, ideally there would be someone I loved with me under that blanket, but it didn’t look like that would be happening this year unless Daniel had a complete change of heart. I suppressed a sigh. For a woman who’d always wanted to settle down with a partner and a houseful of children, I’d been categorically unsuccessful. Still, I thought, setting my shoulders back purposefully, maybe my new strategy of being organised would help. My spur-of-the-moment approach certainly hadn’t worked so far.

Nell sighed blissfully. ‘That sounds very romantic. My Christmas will be wall to wall relatives with an array of digestion issues from eating too much chestnut stuffing, or overindulging on the Baileys.’

‘I doubt mine will be romantic either,’ I said ruefully. ‘This was supposed to be mine and Daniel’s first Christmas together.’

She pulled a sympathetic face. ‘I know. But we can still have a great time. I’m not having you being on your own.’

I’d envisaged us going for a moonlit walk on Christmas Eve, looking at all the Christmas lights, wishing everyone we met a Happy Christmas and then waking up together, toasting Christmas Day with kisses and champagne before driving over to his parents’ house to join the rest of the family for dinner. My first proper family Christmas in decades.

‘You’re a good friend,’ I said softly. ‘And whatever happens, I certainly think Holly Cottage will be lovely and cosy at Christmas. I woke up the other day to find that a load of logs had been delivered for me. A gift from the landlord, according to the lettings agency.’

‘Who is the landlord ?’ she asked.

I shrugged. ‘Not sure exactly. I did ask but it’s owned by a trust fund.’

‘Ooh.’ Nell eyes sparkled. ‘Perhaps it’s a mysterious eligible millionaire ?’

‘More likely a savvy saver,’ I said, shaking my head at her. ‘Don’t you avoid paying inheritance tax if you put your assets in a trust fund ?’