The Christmas Bookshop(17)

‘Like what?’ said Carmen shortly.

‘Like the zoo?’

‘Zoos are cruel,’ said Carmen. ‘It’s just animals in prison.’

Jack sighed.

‘Well, I’m just BORED.’

‘You and me both, kid.’

She had a sudden thought.

‘Can you clean?’

‘What, like clean my room?’

‘I’M NOT CLEANING MY ROOM,’ said Phoebe, appearing as she did out of nowhere, the frowzy head crosspatch as ever. ‘IT’S MY ROOM.’

‘I don’t mean your rooms,’ said Carmen. They looked at her, still suspicious. ‘Do you want to come with me and clean out the bookshop?’

‘What’s in it for us?’

‘I can’t get my new dress dirty,’ said Pippa, fastidiously patting down the purple pinafore.

‘Why not?’ said Phoebe. ‘It’s horrible. You look like two plums stuck together.’

‘Be kind, Phoebe,’ said Pippa primly.

‘Will I get a broom?’ said Jack.

‘Yup.’

‘And a treat?’

‘You drive a hard bargain.’

Skylar came in in her yoga kit again, blonde hair freshly washed and bouncing.

‘Have a great day with the kids, yeah? Bye, guys! Don’t forget: five portions! Namaste!’

She looked at Carmen and spoke in a low voice.

‘Please don’t just dump them in front of a screen? It’s really unfair on Sofia because they just play up later, do you see?’

Carmen rolled her eyes.

‘Oh, I have plans, don’t worry.’



Sofia was sceptical about the whole thing. On the other hand, she reflected, Federico was in Hong Kong doing Hong Kong things, Skylar was out yoga-ing, so if Carmen took all three out she would have the entire house to herself. She could lie back, read a magazine, maybe break into one of those hampers a grateful client had sent over. She wouldn’t have to umpire between what used to be three small people but now appeared to be four. It was, in fact, such an appealing concept that Carmen could have been taking them off to mine coal and she would put up only feeble resistance.

She still had to at least put up the bare minimum though. She wasn’t one of those women who worked and were also desperate to get away from their children. No. She definitely wasn’t.

‘So if I have to stay and do this stupid job,’ Carmen was saying.

‘You want to use my children as slave labour?’

‘You don’t want them to learn how to clean?’

‘Not particularly,’ said Sofia.

‘We have a cleaner,’ said Pippa. ‘It’s what happens to you if you don’t work hard at school and go to university.’

Carmen caught her breath. Sofia, who knew she should have dealt with this before, felt utterly ashamed of herself.

‘Yes. Okay. Great. Take them.’

‘But, Mummy!’ objected Pippa.

‘You’ll want to put some old clothes on,’ said Carmen directly to her.

‘Yay,’ said Phoebe.



They took the bus, even though it wasn’t far, and Carmen was once again shocked by their amazement at the novelty factor of being on a bus.

‘You never catch the bus?’ she said and they shook their heads, then went upstairs, where Jack and Pippa nabbed the front seat. Phoebe looked all set to make a massive scene about not getting one, and Carmen let her while she stared at her phone, formidably ignoring all the tutting Edinburgh ladies sitting around them. In surprise, Phoebe calmed down faster than normal as they pootled up the Lothian Road, past the huge red sandstone Caledonian Hotel.

All the way up Victoria Street, the children ummed and awwwwed, and Carmen realised that now the Christmas decorations were up – great shining silver stars making the pretty street even lovelier – the shops had really come into their own, each (everyone except for them was open on a Sunday, she also noticed) lovelier than the last: dark green and red Christmas trees inside and outside the expensive tweed shop; beautiful paper mobiles and lights in the lovelier bookshop; golden lamp-posts and fairy lights twirling around the magic shop; great thick swathes of holly and ivy in the coffee shop where Carmen promised them milkshakes later. Even the hardware store had little trees lined up in a tidy row with little soldiers posted between them, she noticed as they went in to purchase a large brush, which Mr McCredie didn’t seem to own but desperately needed.

‘You’re Mr McCredie’s girl,’ said the man in the store, his burgundy apron decorated with holly.

‘Word gets around,’ said Carmen.

‘Oh yes, we’re a family here,’ he said. ‘Well, we try to be. Mr McCredie, he’s never been one for wanting to join in. We wish he would. You can’t do this alone.’ Then he lowered his voice. ‘Do you think he’ll be able to hold on?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Carmen, and suddenly didn’t want to disappoint anyone.

‘I hope so.’

‘Do your best, love.’

And he threw in a dustpan for free.



They were no good, that was true. They moaned and complained and said they were tired and their hands hurt and she, Carmen, was mean for making them work.