Page 95 of The Merry Christmas Project

Merry

23 DECEMBER

‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,’ Fred crooned from his seat at the little table beside me. He was carefully sticking Merry and Bright labels to glass jars. He was making an exceptionally good job if it ; he’d invented a template so that the labels went on perfectly straight, first time.

‘I think you might be right.’ I leaned on the window frame as I sipped my coffee and gazed up at the putty-coloured sky. ‘If I were a betting person, I’d put money on it.’

‘Me too,’ said Fred. ‘But if the snow could just hold fire until tomorrow night after I’ve gone to bed, I’d be very grateful. Once Christmas Day comes and I can admire it from the comfort of Hester and Paul’s living room, it can snow all it likes.’

‘It would be very beautiful though,’ I said dreamily. ‘Imagine walking through all those Christmas trees tomorrow evening with snowflakes kissing our faces.’

‘And slipping on my backside in the slush and spending Christmas in Accident and Emergency ?’ Fred chuntered. ‘No thanks.’

I laughed and turned back to my job of packaging up the orders which would be sent out tonight. The last ones I’d send until after the Christmas break.

It was Christmas Eve Eve. Only twenty-four hours to go until I could wave goodbye to the Christmas Project for good. Plans had continued apace for the last three weeks and although I’d been swept along with festive cheer, I was looking forward to a well-earned break after Christmas Eve.

Fred and I had taken to working in the front room whenever possible to take advantage of the perfect view of the marketplace. The lights on the Christmas tree twinkled brightly all day long and the canopies of the market stalls were all decked with lights and tinsel too. The market traders themselves had entered into the spirit of things and were warmly dressed in Christmas hats, scarves and sweaters and so too were a good proportion of their customers. Wetherley, it seemed, was a town which fully embraced the magic of Christmas.

And tomorrow we were stepping it up a gear. Fifty spruce trees had been delivered and were waiting, wrapped in netting, to be handed over to all the community groups after lunch. I felt a frisson of excitement, longing to see how the area would look when they were all in place and decorated. It might have seemed odd, leaving it so late to add such a major installation to the town’s festivities. But the aim of the Christmas Project was to honour Benny Dunford, who’d always organised Wetherley’s Christmas Eve gathering. And as Nell pointed out, the trees would remain in place until Twelfth Night, for people to enjoy once Christmas Day was over.

The weeks since the Christmas lights switch-on had flown by in a whirl. Thanks to Hester and her loyal Instagram followers, my own Etsy shop and Instagram profile had had more new hits since the first of December than they’d had since I’d set it up. Every man and his dog, or at least that was how it felt to me, wanted one of my candles to add a little bit of perfumed ambience to their Christmas at the moment. On top of that, word had spread as more and more people discovered us.

I mean, Yankee Candle wouldn’t be getting worried any time soon, but by my normal standards, orders were pouring in. Quite frankly I’d have been in a bit of a pickle but as luck would have it, I had a new assistant, or technically, a new volunteer as he refused to take any money for the many hours he’d been putting in since that first Monday.

‘Twenty-four more Mistletoe Kisses ready for boxing up,’ said Fred, standing up and stretching his shoulders. ‘Plus, a batch of Midnight Forest samples making two hundred and fifty in total.’

‘Right you are,’ I replied, making room for them on the table.

We’d started making sample-sized candles – Fred’s idea – mini candles in tiny containers the size of shot glasses. They’d be perfect for lighting at any future fairs to demonstrate the range and for the moment I was giving one away free with every order. Maybe I would charge for them one day. But I felt as if I’d had plenty of good fortune where the business was concerned, and decided to pay it forward by rewarding all my customers with a free candle. It was paying off ; we were getting as much social media coverage for the samples as for the actual products. After all, who didn’t love a freebie ?

‘Right then, boss, I’ve got half an hour before I need to go and get my dancing shoes on ready for the Christmas party.’ He grabbed my hand and twirled me around on the spot.

‘Fred, you do know the party starts one hour from now ?’ I laughed, trying to hang onto my coffee as he tried to get me to dance. Astrid, I happened to know, had been getting ready since first thing this morning, having booked herself in for a hair appointment, followed by a facial and manicure courtesy of the mobile beautician who looked after all the residents at Rosebridge.

‘I do,’ he said solemnly, not picking up on my point. ‘So is there anything special you’d like me to do, or shall I wash up the used pouring pitchers ?’ he asked, knowing that given half a chance I’d leave them to be scrubbed in the morning. Cleaning solidified wax off our equipment was almost the worst job.

‘I’d rather you updated the spreadsheet with today’s orders.’ I gave him a beseeching look. ‘Pretty please ?’

Any job to do with the spreadsheet was far, far worse than cleaning. Cole and Fred had spent an afternoon creating a spreadsheet which they alleged would make my life a breeze. I showed willing, but try as I might, I couldn’t get to grips with putting all the information into tiny squares on a computer. Where was the space for me to scribble notes about how nice the customers were ? And it was all very well knowing that a particular day should be spent on making two hundred Midnight Forest candles, but what if I’d woken up with an idea for an exciting new scent and couldn’t wait to experiment with fragrance oils ?

‘You’re supposed to be improving your spreadsheet skills,’ Fred said, narrowing his eyes. ‘For when I’m not here to do it.’

‘Don’t talk like that,’ I said, shuddering, patting his hand. ‘You’ll be around for ages.’

It wasn’t until Fred had begun turning up every day to help me with Merry and Bright that I became aware that there’d been a dearth of older men in my life. Not only had I never had a father, but I hadn’t had a father figure either. Fred had filled a vacancy not only in my business but in my heart. Cole had found a spare set of keys for him so now it wasn’t unusual to find Fred here when I arrived, with a pot of tea brewed and the orders which had come in overnight already printed out. We’d become fond of each other and I was already worried about what would happen after Christmas, when I relocated the business back to Holly Cottage and his new workplace was no longer a quick stroll across town for him.

‘I’m not planning on turning up my toes just yet,’ he said with a chuckle. He cleared his throat. ‘But I might consider a trip to Germany in the New Year. I’ve heard wonderful things about cruising down the Rhine. What do you think ?’

He meant what did I think of him taking a holiday with Astrid. He was probably testing the water to gauge my reaction before broaching it with his children. But he needn’t worry on that score ; both Hester and Cole had confided in me that they hoped that the relationship between my two dear older friends would develop into something more.

‘It’s a lovely idea,’ I said, giving the old man a hug. ‘A holiday I can deal with, as long as you come back. You’re my favourite member of staff.’

‘What a coincidence,’ he said with a twinkly smile, sliding the laptop onto his knee. ‘Because you’re my favourite boss.’

We both laughed and settled into a companiable semi-silence for the next few minutes. Not complete silence because Fred made all manner of noises when he worked, exclaiming, tutting or whistling as the moment necessitated. But it was quiet enough for us both to jump when my phone rang.

‘My son and heir by any chance ?’ Fred teased, no doubt noticing the smile on my face.