The Christmas Bookshop(23)

‘Would you like it?’ said Carmen. He lifted his hands off instantly.

‘Oh. No. I’m … thank you. It’s all right.’

But his eyes still followed it regretfully.

‘Sure. Can I take your number?’

He looked at her. His eyes were very green indeed, she noticed. How unusual. She wondered where he was from.

‘Um.’ He seemed awkward.

‘For the order,’ she said briskly, annoyed with herself because she knew she was colouring. ‘So we can tell you when it’s in … ’

‘Of course, of course. Sorry,’ he said. ‘Oke.’

‘Okay?’ she said.

‘No, I mean, Oke. That’s my name. O-K-E. Well, it’s short for … ’

He stopped himself.

‘What?’ said Carmen.

‘It really doesn’t matter,’ he said.

‘Ooh,’ said Carmen. ‘Okehampton?’

‘Um, I don’t know what that is.’

‘Ocarina? Hang on, I don’t know what that is.’

They smiled at each other, but he remained tight-lipped and so Carmen wrote ‘Oke’ down alongside a number that started +55.

‘I don’t think we can phone that,’ she said, looking at the manual dial telephone on the desk. ‘I’m not sure it does international calls. Where is it, Mars?’

‘Brazil … but I’ve ordered the book?’ he said, looking slightly confused. ‘Of course I’ll come back for it.’

Carmen, a veteran of many years of retail, smiled slightly tightly at him.

‘If you say so. If you’re absolutely not going to disappear to Brazil.’

There was a bounce to his walk as he headed towards the door. He was definitely a student, thought Carmen. If he was lecturing as a real job, he wouldn’t be hanging out at 11 a.m. anyway.

Just as she was thinking this he turned around.

‘Do I get my student discount?’ he asked, and she felt bad for mocking him when he was almost certainly incredibly poor.

‘Of course,’ she said quickly, even though she had gone from age seventeen to age twenty-five completely furious that a student discount even existed for those gilded souls swanning around drinking coffee and talking and doing not very much while grafters like herself were on fifty hours a week. She didn’t even know what the discount might be. Well, she’d work that out as it went.

He grinned again.

‘Cool. Bye!’





Carmen mounted the stairs from the basement. There was a chicken curry on that smelled absolutely divine, and Carmen looked at the little family for a moment, sitting up nicely, eating what appeared to be vegetables. She felt a pang. Was that what she wanted? Was she just jealous?

Then Pippa made a remark about Phoebe having food on her face in response to which Phoebe kicked Pippa hard under the table.

‘Why do you do that, Phoebe?’ Sofia asked, dark eyes wide with concern. ‘I feel you could be happier if you didn’t feel the need to be so disruptive. Do we need to have a family conference?’

‘Perhaps she’s feeling undervalued, Mummy,’ said Pippa complacently. ‘Phoebe, do you feel you’re not listened to?’

Phoebe furrowed her brow and made a growling noise.

‘It’s all right to feel frustrated,’ went on Sofia. ‘Just let it out.’

At this, Phoebe kicked the laid-back Jack so sharply he cried aloud.

‘Well, maybe we don’t let our feelings out quite like that, Phoebe,’ said Sofia, and a sullen silence descended.

‘Um, hi?’ said Carmen.

Sofia would have got up if she wasn’t so encumbered, she was so pleased Carmen wasn’t hiding in her room.

‘Join us,’ she said.

‘Okay,’ said Carmen. ‘Uh, I wanted to ask you … please can I have some of your Christmas decorations for the shop? Have you got any you didn’t use?’

Sofia blushed, ladling curry onto a plate for Carmen and sprinkling it with almonds. It smelled heavenly.

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Well, the thing is … ’ She hated confessing this as she liked people thinking that she did everything herself, and that things came easily to her. ‘I rent the decorations.’

‘You what?’ said Carmen, who hadn’t the faintest idea that was even a thing.

‘Someone comes and puts them up and takes them down again.’

Carmen was absolutely speechless.

‘That’s why you’re not allowed to touch the Christmas trees,’ said Phoebe, nodding and carefully moving all the bits of carrot away from the chicken. She had to eat them, but she could put it off to the last possible moment. The house might fall down or something and she’d regret eating the carrots first.

Carmen blinked.

‘Okay,’ she said. She hadn’t even realised that people who weren’t celebrities could do this kind of thing.

‘So how is everything?’ said Sofia, trying to change the subject.

‘Mr McCredie is nice … Well, he’s odd. What’s his background?’

‘Well,’ said Sofia, ‘I can’t discuss my clients’ personal business. But as for what everyone knows, the McCredies are quite a well-known family in Edinburgh, go back a long way. He’s young Mr McCredie but I think his dad was young Mr McCredie too. It’s very confusing. His grandfather was rather famous – he was on the Scottish polar expedition, you know.’