Page 48 of A Merry Little Christmas

‘I remember that party.’ Nell smiled reluctantly. ‘It was fun. But this is not shop-event music.’

A few days before Christmas last year, Merry and Cole had had a party, giving Merry the opportunity to introduce Emily to all her friends. They had all danced their socks off.

‘I’m happy with it.’ Merry shrugged. ‘It puts people in a good mood to be able to sing along as they’re browsing. Anyway, we agreed to split responsibilities and I’m in charge of the playlist.’

‘You are the stubbornest woman on the planet.’ Nell threw her hands up. ‘As you say, you’re in charge of the music. I’ll get back to my own responsibilities.’

Merry’s heart sank as Nell stomped back into the shop. One minute they were OK, the next they were at loggerheads. What was happening to them? They never used to row about anything.

Merry watched from the studio as Nell went to open the door for some new arrivals, and in burst Astrid and Irena in a whirl of shopping bags, woolly hats and unrestrained laughter.

‘No prizes for guessing who that is,’ Fred chuckled, catching Merry’s eye over a customer’s bent head. He was allowing two friends to have a go at gluing down some wicks inside glass candle holders.

‘I’ll go and say hello. By the look of them, they may have had a drink already,’ Merry added, noticing Irena clutch onto Nell’s shoulder for support. Both of them looked a bit flushed. ‘Still, nice to see them getting on so well.’

Unlike her and Nell, she thought sadly as she went through to the shop. Astrid and Irena had got to know each other at Merry and Cole’s wedding last year. It was yet another bond between Nell and Merry, making them feel more like family than simply friends.

‘Liebling!’ Astrid swooped on Merry, kissing both her cheeks. ‘What an excellent turnout. You and Nell must be so pleased.’

‘We are,’ Merry said, looking to Nell for her agreement.

Nell cupped a hand to her ear innocently. ‘Sorry? I didn’t catch that.’

‘The music is a little loud,’ Woody said, putting his hands gently over his ears. ‘I’m going to turn it down a tad.’

‘Party poopers, one and all,’ Merry declared resignedly.

Irena grabbed hold of Max, smothering her grandson with kisses. ‘And how is my football star?’ she said, pinching his cheek.

Max dutifully endured the attention and mumbled his response, while Harley sniggered at his plight.

Merry greeted Irena with a hug. ‘Glad you could make it. Are you shopping or browsing?’

‘Drinking, mostly, at a guess,’ said Max, miming knocking back shots.

‘Sadie was serving beef and sauerkraut canapés at the Bristly Badger,’ said Astrid, glassy-eyed. ‘Lecker.’

‘We ate them with vodka.’ Irena hiccoughed. ‘Very more and moreish.’

Their German and Polish accents respectively were thicker than usual as they were tipsy and they looked like a comedy double act: Astrid tall and willowy in her habitual cape, and Irena short and plump in a chunky sheepskin duffel coat.

‘Here you go, ladies.’ Woody handed them both some mulled wine. ‘This should go down a treat.’

‘Prost!’ Astrid bashed her paper cup against Irena’s. ‘Here’s to avoiding mumps.’

‘Mumps?’ Merry took an instinctive step back. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Since when has mumps been a major concern at the retirement home?’ Nell asked, bemused.

‘Yes, several of our residents have mumps,’ Astrid said between sips. ‘Cheeks like fat rodents. There has been an outbreak of cases at the nursery and, of course, some of us have spent much time there recently. Poor kinder.’

The social team at the Rosewood retirement village had teamed up with the Wetherley preschool nursery for some joint Christmas activities. Fred and Astrid and their friends had been having a whale of a time talking to the littlies about what Christmas was like in the olden days, making stained-glass window decorations from sweet wrappers and teaching them some of their favourite carols.

A woman holding hands with her small son glanced up worriedly. ‘Mumps can be nasty. Especially for boys.’

Max and Harley gave each other a wary look.

‘Why specifically boys?’ Nell asked.