The Christmas Bookshop(65)

Pippa sniffed.

‘Well, obviously I think it’s bad too, Mummy, but if they’re going to go I should probably go and make sure Phoebe doesn’t do any rides that are too scary for her.’

‘They’re not too scary for me!’

‘And that she doesn’t have too much candyfloss.’

‘They have candyfloss?!’ said Jack.

‘That stuff will kill you,’ said Skylar quickly.

‘It won’t!’ said Carmen. ‘Seriously, sis, how bad is it?’

‘I’ll send Skylar to pick you up at five.’

‘WE CAN GO?!’

The children’s eyes were wide.

‘For a little bit, seeing as your aunt is volunteering.’

‘Then you have your school concert rehearsal,’ said Skylar.

There was a collective groan.

‘Not much point in Phoebe going then,’ said Jack, sniggering. Phoebe would have kicked him but was worried Carmen might change her mind if she did.



It was loud. Very loud. There was screaming music, all different, on each ride, and every mulled wine stall and the many bars had live music. There were also doughnut stalls and candyfloss and fudge and everything was quite terrifying. Phoebe point-blank refused to go on the little train, which Carmen had rather liked the look of, because it was for babies, so Carmen ended up accompanying her on some terrifying thing that started off quite tame, then spun them round perpendicular to the ground, Phoebe pale white with fright, tears streaking down her cheeks. She had a full-blown meltdown when Carmen stalled at the rifle range (everything was indeed extortionately expensive) and there was a massive cacophonous row over who was making the Ferris wheel compartment wobble.

Which was a shame, as up there, next to the great dark Scott Monument, slowly lifting higher and higher, Carmen felt her own heart lift. The city, dark and exciting, full of light and people and movement, spread out at their feet with the lights of the fair, the great lit-up Christmas tree on the mount ahead, the twinkling stars, closer up here, the biting cold air and the feeling of Christmas right around the corner – two weeks to go now, as the children informed her daily, counting down every second.

It was exciting. That was until Phoebe dropped a glove through the narrow railings and almost went after it, causing Carmen to yell at her, something she had never ever done, and causing Phoebe in turn to have another fit which, once back on the ground, Carmen tried to assuage with extraordinarily expensive hot chocolates which cost extra for whipped cream and marshmallows. Then Phoebe spilled hers and insisted that Jack had done it, and finally Carmen began to see Sofia’s point.

‘Come on,’ she chivvied them. ‘Let’s go to the Christmas tree maze!’

She cleaned Phoebe up carefully.

‘You’ll be fine. Take my glove.’

Phoebe did so, sniffing valiantly and wiping her nose on it. It really was bitingly cold; Carmen stuffed her hand quickly back in her pocket and took a large restorative swig of the extremely pricey mulled wine she’d set down on a wall.

‘Come on then! Let’s go! Everyone take my hand or grab my coat or something.’

‘NO WAY!’ said Jack, who had seen a friend of his in the crush and was nodding to him, mano a mano style.

‘Okay. Well, don’t get lost.’

‘I think actually getting lost is what you’re meant to do in a maze,’ pointed out Pippa.

‘You’re right,’ smiled Carmen. ‘Gold star to you.’



Oke was on his way up – he had to fight through the Christmas fair every day to make it up the steps of the Mound to his student halls – when he saw her.

She was bent down, fitting a glove on one child, trying to snatch another to stop him running off and laughing with a third. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. He sighed. She looked quite lovely. ‘Come ONNNN, Auntie Carmen,’ was the anguished cry he now heard from the smallest one. She stood up, rolling her eyes, but with a willing smile that was beautiful to him.

‘Hello,’ he said, and she whirled round, shocked.

‘Oh,’ she said, not expecting to see him there. ‘Hello. How are you? Why are you here? There are almost no trees at all.’

‘It’s on my way home.’

‘Of course.’

She looked up to the beautiful student buildings, grey stone above the city.

‘I thought you’d gone full Christmas for a minute there.’

‘AUNTIE CARMEN, COME ON!’

The children had burst into the maze.

Carmen looked at Oke.

He looked tall and relaxed in the cold grey light, a wrist of simple grey beads the only jewellery he wore; he didn’t even wear a watch. He had found from somewhere a large old jumper – a charity shop, maybe – but it was good quality and suited him. He had also somehow managed to lay his hands on a long scarf that came down past his waist.

He stood out, she thought, from the people streaming around him; drew glances, particularly from the women, for his tall rangy figure, his face so thoughtful as he took in the crowds thronging in brightly coloured padded jackets, everyone in bobble hats, happy faces and excited children racing everywhere. Behind the little train, the great cliff face of Edinburgh buildings rose in front of him. To his left was a great spinning swing that went high in the air, up to the height of the Scott Monument, and every thirty seconds or so it would spin and the screaming would start, regular as clockwork, then it would descend again. The lights of the fairground attractions flashed behind him.