Love and Lies at The Village Christmas Shop: A laugh out loud romantic comedy perfect for Christmas 2018. Portia MacIntosh
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you OK?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘You just seem a little flustered.’
‘I’m fine,’ she says firmly, although not entirely convincingly.
I know my car is old, but it’s safe. She seems even more worried than usual to be sending her precious cargo off with me.
‘Well, we’re going to have more fun than your mum is, tidying up all day,’ I say as we make the short journey to the garden centre.
‘Mummy is going out,’ Chloe informs me.
‘Is she?’
‘Yep, I heard her on the phone,’ she says. ‘She was saying she would see someone.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask. It’s not like my sister to lie to me.
‘Yep,’ Chloe says confidently.
Could she be right? Holly did say Chloe had been paying more attention to things lately, hanging around, listening to the adults. And Holly has been acting a little odd recently.
‘We’re here,’ I say, pushing any thoughts of my sister being up to something from my mind. She’s probably just organising their Christmas presents or something. No matter how Holly feels about what she calls the so-called most wonderful time of the year, she always buys her kids presents.
I hurry to keep up with the kids as they charge through the various departments of the garden centre, before we finally reach Santa’s grotto, a small log cabin surrounded by sparkly fake snow, stuffed reindeer and plastic elves – none of which lend well to the legitimacy of this Santa Claus. Well, it’s 2018, and our children have Google. They watch Marvel movies and read Harry Potter books, and know exactly what is real and what isn’t, so if we want them to buy into this Santa character, we need to do a much better job of selling it. Fake snow, stuffed animals and plastic people aren’t going to cut it, although perhaps that’s just my cynical, grown-up point of view because Chloe and Harry are happily caught up in the excitement, gleefully unwrapping their candy canes as we join the queue. They’re not worrying about the aesthetics and I really miss that about being young.
‘Ho, ho, ho,’ Santa bellows, as Chloe and Harry cautiously make their way towards him. I suppose, to them, he’s a superstar. It would be like me queuing up to sit on Henry Cavill’s lap.
I suck on my candy cane as I glance around Santa’s grotto. It’s not up to much this year, but it is the only one in town so I suppose it will do.
‘And how is Mummy doing today?’ Santa Claus asks.
I quickly turn to face him, widening my eyes. ‘Sorry?’
‘She’s not our mummy,’ Chloe informs him. ‘She’s our auntie.’
‘Your auntie, huh? And is she on the nice list or the naughty list?’ Santa enquires.
‘The naughty list, for sure,’ Chloe says emphatically. ‘Because she didn’t build our bunk beds, like she said she would.’
I feel my jaw drop a little, as my sweet little niece throws me under the bus.
‘Well, that’s OK, Santa doesn’t mind a naughty auntie,’ he tells her. ‘So, what do you two want for Christmas?’
Santa is well hidden, under his suit, hat, and fake beard, but I can see his blue eyes clearly. I can tell that he’s young, and that there’s a cheeky glimmer of something behind them.
‘Well, other than my bunk beds,’ Chloe starts, and as she reels off a list of all the toys she wants, I can’t help but feel like Santa is undressing me with his eyes.
‘And what about you, young man?’ he asks Harry.
Harry thinks for a moment. ‘A bike,’ he says excitedly.
‘Well, if you’re both good kids – which I’m sure you are – then I’m sure you’ll get everything you want. But you have to be good between now and Christmas. Can you promise me you’ll be good?’
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