The Best Little Christmas Shop

by Maxine Morrey

  But, thank goodness, he’d been sensible and my parents took the opportunity to step back a little, leaving much of the day-to-day running to Dan and the others. And leaving the Jag to me. But it was still sat in much the same condition as when he’d given it to me. I just never seemed to get the time to do anything on it. During the times that I did get to visit home, I wanted to be with my family and friends, catching up on everything I’d missed, not stuck out on my own in a chilly garage. As much as I loved cars, and that Jag particularly, I loved my family more.

  Who knows? Maybe now that the career I’d worked so hard to build was swirling around the plughole, I might finally have the time to do something on it. Not exactly the way I’d planned things to go but still. Although I loved the shop and had worked in here since I could remember, possibly as more of a hindrance than help in my early years, I never thought for a moment that I’d be sat back here in my thirties. A sharp jab in my thumb from a particularly robust holly leaf brought me painfully out of my reverie.

  ‘Oh f –’ I glared at the leaf now firmly attached to my digit. And then I looked over it and directly into the wide, soft grey eyes of a little boy around five years old who was regarding me curiously. Behind him stood a pair of long, indigo-denim-clad legs. My gaze followed them up and I found myself on the end of an intense stare from a similar pair of eyes.

  But these were a much stormier grey, set in the ridiculously good-looking face of a man I assumed to be the boy’s father. I cleared my throat and swallowed my words, making a mental note to get one of my brothers to fix a bell to the back of the door as soon as possible.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.’

  The man quirked a dark brow almost imperceptibly. ‘Evidently.’ His expression was firmly set to unamused. I gave him a fixed smile and looked back to my desk, hoping he’d leave to go and practise his ninja shopping skills elsewhere. The young boy’s eyes were focused on my hands as I picked up the holly again, a little more carefully this time.

  ‘Come on, George, let’s –’

  ‘What are you doing?’ George asked, seemingly not hearing his father and sitting the teddy he’d been holding on the table at the end of my supplies so that he could observe too.

  I smiled at them both, almost expecting the father to repeat his request to leave but he remained silent, evidently happy to let George’s curiosity be fulfilled and probably aware that the glare he’d given me moments earlier was enough to stop me even thinking about swearing again for the rest of my life. Well, at least until they left anyway.

  ‘I’m making Christmas wreaths for people to hang on their doors.’

  His eyes widened as his fingers reached out and touched the mistletoe. ‘It’s real?’

  ‘It is. Mind the holly though. That can be a bit spiky.’ I risked a glance up through my lashes and met his father’s eyes, a glimmer of a smirk on a mouth that some might call tempting. I’d probably call it that too but I already had way too much to worry about.

  ‘We had one like that last year but it was plastic.’

  ‘Some of those can be very nice too.’ I smiled.

  ‘Not as nice as yours,’ George said, moving to peer around me at the others he had now noticed hanging behind, ready for shipping out later.

  ‘Thank you.’

  George came around the front of my desk again and watched for a moment as I continued to work. His father had taken a couple of steps away and was now looking at the rows of chutney, fudge, and other delicious temptations on the shelves to my right.

  ‘I do like your bear,’ I said to George. ‘Does he have a name?’

  ‘He’s just called Bear.’

  ‘That sounds like the perfect name to me.’ I gently took Bear’s paw and shook it. ‘It’s very nice to meet you, Bear.’

  George giggled. ‘I’m George.’

  I shook his hand in the same way. ‘My name’s Lexi. It’s very nice to meet you too.’

  George smiled. ‘This is my daddy.’

  ‘Hello, Daddy … I mean …’

  Oh God, that sounded so weird!

  He put his hand out. ‘Cal is fine.’

  I nodded and took it, aware that I now had cheeks as red as the wooden painted elves swinging their little rope legs off the shelf behind me.

  Unaware of my embarrassment, George turned his attention back to his teddy. ‘Bear’s got a poorly head.’

  ‘Oh! Oh dear. Yes, he does look a little sorry for himself. Did he have an accident?’

  George pulled his toy back off the table and cuddled him around his squidgy middle, the teddy’s head hanging decidedly lopsided and looking dangerously insecure as the little boy nodded in response. ‘Yes. I accidentally shut his head in the car door and it came off when I walked away.’

  ‘Oh!’

  He pulled his mouth to the side. ‘I know. I was very upset but Daddy mended him for me.’ His little hand snaked into his father’s large one and he looked up, pride on his face. I smiled at them both, and noticed a slight flush on the man’s cheeks as he looked down at his son. A feeling I didn’t want to deal with began creeping into my brain and I squinched it down before it could take hold.

  ‘Come on, George. Let Lexi get on with her work now and come and help me choose some decorations for the tree. We’ll take another look at Bear later and see what we can do.’

  George gave me a smile and moved his bear to his free hand. The bear’s head lurched again and I winced, half expecting it to plop off and roll across the pale sanded floorboards of the shop. Luckily it stayed in place but I didn’t have great hopes for that state lasting very long. I chewed my lip for a moment.

  ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ I asked George.

  He shook his head. ‘No. But I’d like some!’

  I swallowed a grin. With a dad who looked like his did I was pretty sure the odds were quite favourable on that front. I glanced up and met a wary gaze.

  ‘I have three brothers,’ I began as the little boy listened, ‘and when we were younger, sometimes we would argue and occasionally my teddy would get caught in the middle of it.’

  ‘Was he trying to stop you arguing?’

  ‘Umm … yes, I think he probably was.’ I risked a look up at the man. The storm had gone from his eyes now and a hint of amusement played there instead. ‘Anyway, sometimes teddy would be in need of a bit of repair so I ended up training as a Teddy Bear Surgeon. I am, in fact, fully qualified.’ From the corner of my eye, I saw that delicious mouth quirk again.

  ‘You are?’ George asked, his eyes widening.

  ‘I am.’

  This wasn’t exactly too far from the truth. All right, I didn’t have paper qualifications but I’d had plenty of practice. My youngest brother Joe had gone through a phase of yanking off bits of my bear whenever we were arguing. We were the closest in age and the most likely to get into a big barney. After repairing Ted three or four times, my mum had given up and said that if we were going to destroy things, we were also going to have to repair them. So, I’d learned how to sew and my teddy, although slightly wonky, was definitely more robust when he went in for the next round.

  ‘Do you think you could help Bear?’

  ‘George, I’m sure she has plenty to do already –’

  ‘It’s really no trouble,’ I interrupted. ‘I mean. If you don’t mind. I quite like to keep my skills fresh so you’d actually be doing me a favour.’

  Cal hesitated. ‘I’m not sure –’

  But George was already handing me the teddy. I met his dad’s eyes as I took it. I could see he was still uncomfortable about a relative stranger doing something for him. He obviously wasn’t local. If he’d been from the village, he’d have realised this was all part of normal life here. Unlike many places, the village had managed to retain its closeness and community. And whilst it was hard for people not to know everyone else’s business, it was generally in a kind and considerate way rather than gossip. Of course, there was always a bit of that
too – the villagers were human after all.

  I looked the toy over and made a couple of ‘hmming’ noises before returning my attention to Cal and George.

  ‘It’s good news, you’ll be glad to hear. Definitely nothing serious. He’s already had some excellent surgery.’ George giggled and beamed at his dad. Cal’s face remained impassive but I saw his Adam’s apple bob briefly. ‘He really only needs a tiny bit more. If you two want to have a look around the shop, he’ll be fully recovered and waiting for you when you come back. If you want to go ahead of course.’

  ‘Can we, Daddy?’

  Cal gave me a look and a tiny shake of his head, but I could see the faintest of smiles on his lips.

  ‘If Lexi doesn’t mind, then yes, of course. As long as you’re going to help me choose the decorations now. I’m not sure I can decide all by myself.’

  ‘Of course I’ll help you. Don’t worry.’ He kept hold of his dad’s hand as he looked at me. ‘You’ll look after my teddy, won’t you, Lexi?’

  ‘As if he were my own, I promise.’

  ‘Come on, George. Surgeons need peace and quiet to work in. Let’s start with finding you an advent calendar, shall we?’ Cal led George away, throwing me a quick grateful glance over his shoulder as he did. I gave him a quick nod and reached into the drawer of the old wooden desk I was sat at and pulled out a biscuit tin. Opening it, I rummaged around in the sewing supplies it stored to find a cotton that matched the fur of the bear and then set about threading up a needle. Steadily I worked around the bear’s neck, squinting at him occasionally and trying to ensure his head was level so that he wouldn’t be for evermore looking askew at the world.

  Finally, I gently took out the larger, uneven stitches that had been put in at the time of the original incident, the love that they clearly represented more than making up for what they lacked in skill. By the time Cal and George came back to the desk, laden with items, I’d not only repaired Bear but also whipped the scarf off a toy we had on sale to finish him off properly. Luckily, I knew the maker of the scarves and would put in an emergency order by text once my customers had gone.

  ‘Bear!’ George cried as he saw his teddy casually lounging on the table that held the till. ‘Daddy, he’s got a scarf too, and it’s the same colour as mine!’

  Cal smiled. ‘You really shouldn’t have. How much do I owe you?’

  ‘Ha! I’m good, but I’m not that good. I’ll have to ring them up first,’ I said, pushing my chair out to get to the till, leaning over for his basket as I did so.

  ‘No, I meant for the repair –’ he tilted his head ‘– and his new scarf.’

  ‘Oh!’ I shook my head, frowning. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘No. I must. It’s taken your time when you obviously have plenty to do anyway. I’d like –’

  ‘Really. It was my pleasure. There’s no charge.’

  Cal was a good head and half taller than me but I’d grown up with three brothers and spent my entire career in a male-dominated world. I knew how to make a point when I needed to. Matt called it ‘The Tone’. Even without this inside knowledge, Cal clearly got the idea I wasn’t prepared to argue the point any further.

  ‘Well then, thank you. Sewing, admittedly, is not my forte.’

  I smiled. ‘Then that makes two of us. You did a great job, honestly. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t even know where to start! And George thinks you’re a superhero so don’t be too hard on yourself. Honestly, I’ve just tidied it up a bit, that’s all.’

  Cal tilted his head at me. ‘I’ve a feeling you’re being more kind than honest but I’ll take it. Thank you, again.’

  ‘You’re welcome. OK, let’s get your purchases sorted, shall we? I think all this shopping has tired someone out.’

  Cal turned in the direction of my nod to where George was now curling up on one of the faux fur beanbags, his fingers wrapping around the bear’s scarf distractedly as his own eyelids drooped heavily.

  ‘Oh crikey, hang on, I’ll just get him –’

  I caught Cal’s sleeve. ‘Don’t. He’s not doing any harm. Just leave him whilst we’re sorting this out.’

  ‘But isn’t that your stock?’

  ‘Yep. But it’s made for sitting on.’

  ‘Yes. Once it’s paid for.’

  ‘Look.’ I turned George’s dad around by his arms. ‘You’ve clearly taught him well. He’s even taken his shoes off. He’s fine. The stock is fine. Relax!’

  Cal looked down at me and I realised I was still holding his arms. I dropped my hands quickly and shoved them into the pockets of my jeans.

  ‘Things are very different here from London,’ he said, his expression relaxing.

  ‘Yes. They are. Which is a good thing, I think.’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘OK. Let’s see what we have here.’ I started ringing through Cal’s purchases, wrapping the breakables, and stacking things carefully in a couple of boxes to make it easier for him to carry and transport back at home.

  ‘Have you got a long journey back?’ I asked as I rang up the final total, glancing over at the now sleeping George.

  Cal gave me a quizzical look as he dipped a hand inside the padded jacket he wore, retrieving a wallet from the inner pocket and pulling a credit card out from inside.

  ‘No. Not far at all.’

  ‘Oh! Sorry, I assumed you were down from London when you said that about it being different here from there.’ I handed him the card reader and he put the card in as he answered me.

  ‘We used to live there.’

  ‘Oh.’ Clearly he didn’t want to share any more so I stopped my questioning and tried to remember that not everyone was as chatty as the locals. ‘That’s not reading properly. Do you mind?’ He shook his head as I moved the reader around to face me and took the card out, switching it around so that the chip was in the machine. As I did so, he rolled his eyes at himself.

  ‘My fault distracting you,’ I said.

  ‘Hardly.’

  I dropped my gaze to the readout and took the comment at face value. Fair enough. Even if it was a bit blunt.

  ‘I meant hardly in that it wasn’t your fault, not that you weren’t distracting. Not that I was …’ He trailed off and I lifted my gaze to his. ‘I think I’m just going to shut up now.’

  I laughed. ‘OK. Do you want to enter your PIN?’

  ‘Very much so.’

  I grinned, took the machine back off him, and waited for the receipt to chug out, which I then handed to him, along with his card. As I did, I noticed the name on it.

  ‘Cal Martin?’

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘As in Xander’s boss, Cal?’

  ‘You know Xander?’

  ‘He and Giselle are my best friends. I didn’t realise you were The Cal.’ I needed to have words with my friend, Giselle. She’d mentioned that her husband’s boss was quite good-looking, but had left out the fact that he had eyes like a rainstorm, a mouth that suggested temptation and, from what I could see, a body that absolutely promised it.

  ‘The Cal?’ He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that he kept low in deference to his sleeping child. ‘That sounds like quite a lot to live up to.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I do. When you said your name was Lexi, it did cross my mind that I’d heard the name but …’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t think you could be the same one because I was under the impression you were kind of a high flyer and didn’t live in the village. Don’t you work in Formula One or something?’

  ‘I used to, yes.’ I’d intended to leave my explanation at that for now, but I hadn’t banked on those eyes. When I lifted my gaze from where I had been fiddling with the credit card machine’s cable, they were focused on me and suddenly I felt like I was the only person in about a five-mile radius. A thought, uninvited, flashed through my brain as to what that focus might feel like in a more … intimate … setting. Oh wow, probably best not to go there! Almost instantaneously, my cheeks flamed
as I gave my thoughts a firm shove.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He stepped back. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

  ‘Oh, no really. It’s fine. It’s not that at all.’ If only you knew … ‘I think I just got a little warm for a moment.’ I flapped my hand a bit for emphasis, which only succeeded in making me feel like an even bigger idiot so I shoved it back in my pocket again.

  He smiled gently. ‘It is nice and cosy in here. Certainly seems to suit some people.’ We both looked over to where George was zonked out, Bear in one arm cuddled against him, the other flung out across the soft fur. ‘I’d better get him home.’

  ‘Oh wait. Don’t forget this.’ I placed one of the fresh wreaths I’d been making on top of one of the boxes. ‘Your son seemed to really like them.’

  ‘He did – you’re right,’ Cal agreed, reaching in his jacket for his wallet again.

  I put my hand on his arm briefly to stop him.

  ‘It’s on the house.’

  He frowned at me. ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘Yes, I can. It’s my family’s business and it’s one wreath. Don’t worry. It’s not going to bankrupt us.’

  ‘So you’re Dan’s little sister?’

  I laughed. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve been called anyone’s little sister, but I guess technically, yes.’

  He gave a brief head tilt. ‘You are kind of little compared to your brothers.’

  He had a point. I was.

  Cal made an attempt to reach for his wallet again. ‘I really would feel happier if I paid for this, you know. You’ve already done too much for free.’ He nodded at his son’s toy.

  I shook my head. ‘Honestly, it made a nice change to do something different for a few minutes. You two brightened up my day so take the wreath as payment for that, if you like.’

  Cal studied me for a moment, that gaze enveloping me once more. ‘I’m not going to win on this, am I?’

  I shook my head. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Xander did say you were a force to be reckoned with at times.’