The Christmas Bookshop(41)

‘Are you going to open the shop?’ he said, looking rather disgruntled.

‘It’s snow, not a volcanic eruption.’

‘It’s thundersnow.’

‘If you didn’t think I was opening up, what are you doing here?’

He shrugged.

‘I thought Mr McCredie might like to discuss book sales.’

Carmen laughed as she put the key in the lock, and Blair thought how fresh she looked; young with a red scarf and hat that suited her marvellously.

‘Well, I can’t really see that happening,’ said Carmen. ‘I think he thinks books being exchanged for money is on a fundamental level really quite vulgar.’

Blair looked around. The shop was warm and cosy now Carmen had showed Mr McCredie you could programme a thermostat, and also that they had a thermostat. She busied herself grabbing her duster, while Blair frowned.

‘I’d love a coffee,’ he said.

She gave him a side-eye.

‘Kettle’s on the fridge through the back,’ she said.

‘What? After I sold enough books to keep this shop going for months?!’

Carmen glanced at the poster of his face which was still on the opposite wall and gave it a look.

‘I’m busy!’

‘You are,’ said Blair. ‘I need boots. Look at my shoes. It’s a disaster.’

‘You are so spoiled! And I am very busy.’

He looked up and down the street. Cars couldn’t get along it without slipping, and the snow was only just being shovelled away from the doorways. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

‘You bloody aren’t.’

‘I have to shovel snow,’ said Carmen.

‘Aha!’ said a voice emerging from the gloom.

To Carmen’s complete astonishment, it was young Mr McCredie, dressed head to foot in the most peculiar outfit she’d ever seen. On his feet he wore long pointed shoes which seemed to be made of some kind of hide. His trousers were oilskin, ancient and patched, and he had a heavy tweed jacket over a jumper with another hide skin over the top, and a big furry hood.

‘Ooh, lovely finneskos!’ said Blair.

‘Thank you,’ said Mr McCredie, beaming broadly and showing off his bizarre shoes. ‘Best reindeer fur.’

‘Splendid!’

‘Wait a second,’ said Carmen. ‘You’re wearing reindeer?’

‘Technically right now I’m more reindeer than human,’ said Mr McCredie.

‘You’re like the most evil Santa Claus ever.’

‘This jacket,’ he said, ‘went to the South Pole. Almost,’ he added. ‘Fortunately,’ he also added, mostly to himself.

‘Wow,’ said Carmen. ‘Shouldn’t it be in a museum?’

‘Oh yes, eventually,’ said Mr McCredie. ‘Plenty of wear in it still though.’

Carmen looked at him. There was no doubt that he looked as happy as she’d seen him, lifting his ancient shovel.

‘Hey, have you got another pair of those?’ she said, staring at the ridiculous pointed boots. ‘Blair needs some.’

‘Well, I … ’

‘No, it’s all right,’ said Blair hastily. Whether they worked or not, he most certainly was not putting hundred-year-old reindeer boots on. You never knew when you might get papped.

‘Carmen was just taking me to buy wellingtons.’

‘Was I?’

‘After all, you can hardly open up yet.’

But Mr McCredie just waved them off and started shovelling snow.

‘Be careful,’ said Carmen.

‘You saying a McCredie can’t handle themselves in snow?’ he said back to her and she smiled at him properly.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring back hot chocolate this time.’

‘I don’t know why you’re insisting on rotting my teeth at this age.’

Because, Carmen thought to herself, somebody needs to spoil you. And I don’t know why, but it seems to have to be me.



Blair picked his way carefully down the street as Carmen slid, laughing.

‘Oh, come on,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it lovely?’

He sighed.

‘Would you mind just calling the airline for me?’

‘What? Yes, I would. Why?’

‘Oh, I don’t understand the accents, do I? You’d be much better than me. Go on.’

‘No!’

‘I’ll take you somewhere lovely.’

‘LA?’

‘If you like.’

He smiled his very white teeth at her.

‘Don’t forget I’m afraid of your teeth,’ warned Carmen.

‘Oh yeah, fuck it, I forgot.’ His face fell. ‘Oh God, Carmen, I’m really lazy and useless and I like getting other people to do stuff for me – is that any better?’

‘Does it still end up with me on hold for an hour to an airline?’

‘Let’s eat somewhere really, really nice.’

They had landed at the bottom of Victoria Street, where there was a little shop in blue with a beautiful window decoration of robins and holly and lots of expensive country-style clothes, Burberry and Harris tweeds.

‘They must do wellies,’ said Carmen. ‘I wonder if they’re open?’