The Christmas Bookshop(67)

Somehow, without discussing it, Carmen and Oke walked on and came to a quieter section of the fair, away from the screaming. There were little wooden huts selling bits and pieces.

‘I should shop for them,’ said Carmen. ‘The thing is my sister likes them to have lovely wooden toys.’

Indeed, the sweet little German stall they were standing in front of had wooden pull-along cars, bees, little aeroplanes. They were rather adorable.

‘But I think they would probably like something plastic that buzzes and makes a lot of noise. But that would annoy my sister.’

He smiled. ‘I am not sure it’s the worst thing not to have to think about gifts.’

‘But you don’t have anyone in your family who would like one of these?’

She held up an adorable model plane.

He smiled. ‘My sisters both have sons. But no, I am not sure it would be wise. Not at Christmas.’

‘Well, what about something sent with love from a loving uncle very far away that just happened to arrive at about the right time? Would that be the worst thing?’

He looked. There was a little pull-along train too, with carriages. It was adorable.

‘Well … ’ he said.

‘I’m doing three for two,’ said the pleasant German man who was manning the stall. There was a wooden star too, which Oke couldn’t help thinking would look very pretty in his sister’s house.

‘Well … ’ He was weakening.

‘Go on! It’s the law! It’s Christmas! Spending money on stuff! It’s a very important cultural tradition when you visit new lands. It can just be this once.’

He smiled at Carmen then, and took out his wallet and bought eight little trains and three stars.

‘Wow!’ said Carmen. ‘God, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise they had so many children.’

A woman Carmen thought looked familiar stepped forwards from behind the little hut and spoke to the stallholder in German. Then she turned to them.

‘You have bought so much! Here, please accept this with our compliments.’

She handed Oke a vintage car, which he took with thanks and immediately gave to Carmen.

‘Ooh,’ said Carmen. ‘I can put it in the window of the shop with a mouse in it!’

Oke smiled as the woman leaned forward.

‘Yes! You work in the shop,’ she said, and Carmen recognised her as the woman who’d come in looking for Mr McCredie. ‘Did you give him my card? He has not called me.’

She had quite a direct way of speaking.

‘Um, yes I did,’ said Carmen. ‘I’m sorry. He didn’t … Can I ask what it’s about?’

‘We were clearing out an attic and discovered some letters. The return address is … well, it is there. I should like to speak to him. Very much.’

She said something to the man in rapid German, and he looked startled, then carried on wrapping the toys.

‘We are here until Christmas and then – pouf – we are gone. So. Please. If he does not want to phone, we are here. Every day. Wait.’

She turned back into the little hut and brought out another tiny little shape, exquisitely carved in wrought wood. It was a circle, quartered by a cross, smooth and timeless.

‘Please give him this. For his tree. With our warmest wishes.’

‘Thank you,’ said Carmen, surprised, and, laden with bags, they retreated from the noise and cacophony of the fair. She explained the situation to Oke.

‘What do you think it is?’ said Oke.

‘Goodness! I don’t know,’ said Carmen. ‘I can’t imagine Mr McCredie having any dark secret love children or anything like that. I think he’s barely left the house he was born in his whole life. He likes books more than people. I’ll tell him. Do you like trees more than people?’

‘Some,’ said Oke. ‘You know where you are with a tree. Except for elms. They’re bastards.’

‘How?’ Carmen was startled to hear him swear.

‘Oh, try anything and they just die on you. Hi, elm, how you doing? … SPLAT!’

He mimed the tree falling over and she giggled.

‘You look like a tree. You’ve chosen the right profession.’

‘Because of my twig-like arms and legs? I know,’ he said, undaunted. ‘People say that all the time.’

‘Well, better than … being a cactus specialist.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Or a bonsai.’

He grinned.

‘Ooh, bonsai are a whole other thing.’

They had wandered off the main drag and up the steps of the National Gallery. The screaming was still ringing in their ears.

‘Well, I did all the consumerism, and I saw somebody throw up outside the waltzers,’ said Oke. ‘Will that do?’

Carmen nodded, although suddenly she was reluctant to leave him. There was something incredibly … easy about being in his presence. But perhaps he had to get back to Dahlia. He started heading towards the steps.

‘Would you like to come see a bit more Christmas? I think I’m getting the hang of it,’ he said.





She couldn’t match his loping stride as he cut through the crowds bustling around little wooden stalls selling carved fairies, fudge, candyfloss, teddy bears, mulled wine and hot chocolate, and she tried her best not to look as if she was absolutely out of breath as they climbed the steep steps of the Mound.