The Best Little Christmas Shop. Maxine Morrey

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The Best Little Christmas Shop - Maxine  Morrey


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smiled at them both, almost expecting the father to repeat his request to leave but he remained silent, evidently happy to let George’s curiosity be fulfilled and probably aware that the glare he’d given me moments earlier was enough to stop me even thinking about swearing again for the rest of my life. Well, at least until they left anyway.

      ‘I’m making Christmas wreaths for people to hang on their doors.’

      His eyes widened as his fingers reached out and touched the mistletoe. ‘It’s real?’

      ‘It is. Mind the holly though. That can be a bit spiky.’ I risked a glance up through my lashes and met his father’s eyes, a glimmer of a smirk on a mouth that some might call tempting. I’d probably call it that too but I already had way too much to worry about.

      ‘We had one like that last year but it was plastic.’

      ‘Some of those can be very nice too.’ I smiled.

      ‘Not as nice as yours,’ George said, moving to peer around me at the others he had now noticed hanging behind, ready for shipping out later.

      ‘Thank you.’

      George came around the front of my desk again and watched for a moment as I continued to work. His father had taken a couple of steps away and was now looking at the rows of chutney, fudge, and other delicious temptations on the shelves to my right.

      ‘I do like your bear,’ I said to George. ‘Does he have a name?’

      ‘He’s just called Bear.’

      ‘That sounds like the perfect name to me.’ I gently took Bear’s paw and shook it. ‘It’s very nice to meet you, Bear.’

      George giggled. ‘I’m George.’

      I shook his hand in the same way. ‘My name’s Lexi. It’s very nice to meet you too.’

      George smiled. ‘This is my daddy.’

      ‘Hello, Daddy … I mean …’

      Oh God, that sounded so weird!

      He put his hand out. ‘Cal is fine.’

      I nodded and took it, aware that I now had cheeks as red as the wooden painted elves swinging their little rope legs off the shelf behind me.

      Unaware of my embarrassment, George turned his attention back to his teddy. ‘Bear’s got a poorly head.’

      ‘Oh! Oh dear. Yes, he does look a little sorry for himself. Did he have an accident?’

      George pulled his toy back off the table and cuddled him around his squidgy middle, the teddy’s head hanging decidedly lopsided and looking dangerously insecure as the little boy nodded in response. ‘Yes. I accidentally shut his head in the car door and it came off when I walked away.’

      ‘Oh!’

      He pulled his mouth to the side. ‘I know. I was very upset but Daddy mended him for me.’ His little hand snaked into his father’s large one and he looked up, pride on his face. I smiled at them both, and noticed a slight flush on the man’s cheeks as he looked down at his son. A feeling I didn’t want to deal with began creeping into my brain and I squinched it down before it could take hold.

      ‘Come on, George. Let Lexi get on with her work now and come and help me choose some decorations for the tree. We’ll take another look at Bear later and see what we can do.’

      George gave me a smile and moved his bear to his free hand. The bear’s head lurched again and I winced, half expecting it to plop off and roll across the pale sanded floorboards of the shop. Luckily it stayed in place but I didn’t have great hopes for that state lasting very long. I chewed my lip for a moment.

      ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ I asked George.

      He shook his head. ‘No. But I’d like some!’

      I swallowed a grin. With a dad who looked like his did I was pretty sure the odds were quite favourable on that front. I glanced up and met a wary gaze.

      ‘I have three brothers,’ I began as the little boy listened, ‘and when we were younger, sometimes we would argue and occasionally my teddy would get caught in the middle of it.’

      ‘Was he trying to stop you arguing?’

      ‘Umm … yes, I think he probably was.’ I risked a look up at the man. The storm had gone from his eyes now and a hint of amusement played there instead. ‘Anyway, sometimes teddy would be in need of a bit of repair so I ended up training as a Teddy Bear Surgeon. I am, in fact, fully qualified.’ From the corner of my eye, I saw that delicious mouth quirk again.

      ‘You are?’ George asked, his eyes widening.

      ‘I am.’

      This wasn’t exactly too far from the truth. All right, I didn’t have paper qualifications but I’d had plenty of practice. My youngest brother Joe had gone through a phase of yanking off bits of my bear whenever we were arguing. We were the closest in age and the most likely to get into a big barney. After repairing Ted three or four times, my mum had given up and said that if we were going to destroy things, we were also going to have to repair them. So, I’d learned how to sew and my teddy, although slightly wonky, was definitely more robust when he went in for the next round.

      ‘Do you think you could help Bear?’

      ‘George, I’m sure she has plenty to do already –’

      ‘It’s really no trouble,’ I interrupted. ‘I mean. If you don’t mind. I quite like to keep my skills fresh so you’d actually be doing me a favour.’

      Cal hesitated. ‘I’m not sure –’

      But George was already handing me the teddy. I met his dad’s eyes as I took it. I could see he was still uncomfortable about a relative stranger doing something for him. He obviously wasn’t local. If he’d been from the village, he’d have realised this was all part of normal life here. Unlike many places, the village had managed to retain its closeness and community. And whilst it was hard for people not to know everyone else’s business, it was generally in a kind and considerate way rather than gossip. Of course, there was always a bit of that too – the villagers were human after all.

      I looked the toy over and made a couple of ‘hmming’ noises before returning my attention to Cal and George.

      ‘It’s good news, you’ll be glad to hear. Definitely nothing serious. He’s already had some excellent surgery.’ George giggled and beamed at his dad. Cal’s face remained impassive but I saw his Adam’s apple bob briefly. ‘He really only needs a tiny bit more. If you two want to have a look around the shop, he’ll be fully recovered and waiting for you when you come back. If you want to go ahead of course.’

      ‘Can we, Daddy?’

      Cal gave me a look and a tiny shake of his head, but I could see the faintest of smiles on his lips.

      ‘If Lexi doesn’t mind, then yes, of course. As long as you’re going to help me choose the decorations now. I’m not sure I can decide all by myself.’

      ‘Of course I’ll help you. Don’t worry.’ He kept hold of his dad’s hand as he looked at me. ‘You’ll look after my teddy, won’t you, Lexi?’

      ‘As if he were my own, I promise.’

      ‘Come on, George. Surgeons need peace and quiet to work in. Let’s start with finding you an advent calendar, shall we?’ Cal led George away, throwing me a quick grateful glance over his shoulder as he did. I gave him a quick nod and reached into the drawer of the old wooden desk I was sat at and pulled out a biscuit tin. Opening it, I rummaged around in the sewing supplies it stored to find a cotton that matched the fur of the bear and then set about threading up a needle. Steadily I worked around the bear’s neck, squinting at him occasionally and trying to ensure his head was level so that he wouldn’t be for evermore looking askew at the world.

      Finally,


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