The Best Little Christmas Shop. Maxine Morrey
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think things don’t bother you, that you’re tough as old leather – and we both know that’s not true. I just wonder why you always feel you have to do that. I can understand the work thing – why you don’t want to be all girly there. But you’re not as tough as you make out so why let people think that you are?’
‘Because it’s suited me. I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not anyway. I’m just not all feminine and girly like Giselle. She cries and looks beautiful. I cry and look like a red-faced, swollen-eyed, blotchy mess. It doesn’t quite have the same effect.’
‘I’m not saying you have to cry all the time. God forbid. I’m just saying you’re not as tough as you think you are … and that’s OK.’
‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ I asked, staring into my tea.
‘The family just wants you to be happy.’
I turned on the chair and folded my legs up into a crossed position. ‘The family? You know we’re not The Mob, right? And by happy, do you mean married?’
‘Well, not immediately. And not at all if that’s not what you want.’
‘I did want – once. Remember how well that worked out?’
‘So that means you keep yourself at a distance from everyone for ever?’
‘It’s a lot less hassle.’
‘And a lot more lonely.’
‘With a lot less heartbreak.’
‘And a lot less chance at joy.’
I glared at him because I’d run out of argument.
‘Look. I’m not necessarily ruling it out but there was hardly a lot of opportunity before. Liaisons were frowned upon in the team and there was barely time for anything like that anyway.’
‘Not entirely frowned upon.’ Matt shifted position on the wall as he snagged another biscuit from the tin and frisbeed one to me. ‘You were engaged to Marco.’
‘He was their top driver and winning them the championship, not to mention millions in sponsorship. The rules didn’t really apply to him so much. And I’d been working for a different team when we got together so they couldn’t say a whole lot.’
Matt shrugged his eyebrows.
‘Anyway. That’s all a bit irrelevant now. Besides, dating is the absolute last thing on my mind right now. Trying to find another job is rather taking priority.’
‘Have you heard anything?’
‘From Marco?’
Matt gave me an interested look. ‘I meant jobwise but we can go with that.’
‘Oh. No. I’ve got another enquiry out I’m waiting to hear back on but I don’t know if anything will come of it.’ I sighed and snagged another biscuit. ‘I’m really good at my job but it’s a small community. They all know what happened and as far as they’re concerned, the years of commitment I gave were all wiped out by one action. I don’t know if anyone will give me another chance.’
‘They’re idiots if they don’t.’
I smiled at my big brother. ‘Likely true.’
He gave me a wink, then scooped up my now empty mug. ‘You know you’ve always got a job here, don’t you? God knows we could do with the help.’
I nodded. I couldn’t lie. The thought had crossed my mind more than once. The past year, being off the circuit, had allowed me to get back a little more often and see my friends and family and I’d begun to realise just how much I’d missed it all. My friends, my family, even the shop. Matt rinsed the mugs in the sink and came back to lean on the wall.
‘Have you heard from Marco then?’
‘We’ve spoken a bit, yes.’
‘And?’
‘And it’s fine. It’s good. We’re in a good place. A better place. Back to being friends, which is maybe where it should have stayed.’
‘It was kind of a whirlwind.’
‘Yep. It certainly was that. But at the time I thought it was the right thing. What I wanted. What he wanted.’ I pulled my mouth to the side and gave my brother a look. ‘Seriously not very good at the whole relationship thing, am I?’
‘Aah, don’t you worry. These things usually take two. And who knows? We might even be able to find a bloke to put up with you if you ever decided to stick around here. Stranger things have happened.’
‘You know your comedic talent is wasted here, don’t you?’
Matt opened his mouth to reply and I rammed a biccie in it. ‘Conversation closed.’
‘So! A little birdie tells me you met Cal?’
I was sat at the lime-washed pine table in Xander and Giselle’s kitchen decorating gingerbread men whilst Giselle cooked something deliciously French for dinner on the hob of her pink Aga.
‘Is that all right?’ I asked, carefully tipping one of the biscuits towards her.
Giselle glanced over. ‘Perfect! You know you don’t need to check with me. We used to do these together for the shop all the time.’
I pulled a face as I squidged the icing down the bag a little more. ‘I know. But I’m out of practice.’
‘It’s like riding a bicycle. It’ll all come back.’
I gave my gingerbread man a neat side parting. ‘If you remember, the last time I rode a bicycle with you, I ended up headfirst in a nettle bush.’
Giselle laughed. ‘Oh my, I’d forgotten that. You were in such a state! I felt so sorry for you. It must have been agony.’
Gingerbread man got mittens. ‘It definitely isn’t in my list of top ten favourite days, that’s for sure.’
Giselle tasted the sauce and made a fluttering motion with her beautifully long, false lashes. ‘Parfait!’ It always amused me how, even though she’d been over here since she was seven years old, there were times when she still dropped back into French. It wasn’t forced or affected. I wasn’t even entirely sure she knew she was doing it. But I loved it.
‘Good?’
‘Very. Just needs to simmer a bit longer. Xander should be home any time so it should be just about right.’
‘Good, because it smells delicious and I’m starving. This gingerbread man is, frankly, quite lucky he’s still got all his body parts.’
Giselle grinned and filled another icing bag before setting to work on the pile of biscuits that still needed dressing, ready for the shop.
‘So … like I said, I hear you met Cal Martin?’
‘I did. He came into the shop with his little boy. Although I didn’t realise it was him until he paid and I saw the name on his card.’
‘Bit gorgeous, isn’t he?’
I lifted my gaze and looked at her through my slightly overlong fringe. She waved her piping bag at me.
‘What? Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to observe beautiful things. In fact, it’s good for the soul. I just read an article on it. So?’
‘So, what?’
Giselle squirted her piping bag at me so that a blob shot out and landed on my face.
‘Oi!’
‘Answer then!’ She giggled as I felt around my cheek for the icing with my finger, found