embroidered on the side. I can totally see why it’s this year’s must-have ornament.
“Excuse me!” I gasp, touching the woman on the shoulder, and she wheels round.
“Yes?”
“Did you buy that here?” I gesture at the llama.
“Yes,” she says. “Stall over there.” She jabs a finger toward the far corner of the hall.
“Thanks so much,” I say, as she starts wheeling the buggy off. “It’s this year’s must-have tree ornament, you know!” I add over my shoulder. “Sold out everywhere! Very rare!”
As I’m hastening in the direction she pointed, my phone bleeps with a text.
Love, do you want “oak smoked,” “applewood smoked,” or “cold smoked”? Janice x
I hastily pause and type a reply:
Doesn’t matter! Applewood, maybe? Bx
Then I start hurrying on again, but at once my phone rings and Janice pops up on the display screen.
“Hi, Janice!” I say breathlessly. “Is everything OK?”
“There is a special offer, love!” she says triumphantly. “They do bundles, twenty, thirty, or forty pounds. Only I know you said don’t worry about the price, but I don’t feel I can make that decision—”
“Thirty, please!” I hastily cut her off. “Perfect! Thank you so much.”
I dash on as quickly as I can and manage to get to the next corner before Janice pings back another text:
Sorry, my mistake, they can’t do 30 in the applewood smoked, love. Janice x
Honestly. As if anyone will tell the difference after a few glasses of Buck’s Fizz. Trying not to give away my impatience, I text:
Get any bundle any kind. Thanks so much, Janice, really appreciate it!! Bx
The path ahead has miraculously cleared, so I increase my pace to a sprint, not even pausing when my phone bleeps again. It’ll be some random question about packaging or something. Janice will have to decide that on her own.
I reach the far corner of the hall, look around wildly—and there it is! It’s hanging on the side of a stall: a silver llama with world peace in pink on its side. Yay!
Regaining my breath, I approach the stall and beam at the woman behind it, who smiles sweetly in return while polishing her gold spectacles. She has a lanyard around her neck, and I notice that she’s called Yvonne Hanson.
“Hello, Yvonne!” I greet her. “Lovely stall.”
“Thank you,” she says complacently. “I do my best. How can I help you?”
“Could I please have a silver llama?” I say, trying not to sound too urgent. “In fact…several? In fact…all your stock?”
“I’m afraid the llama’s sold out,” says Yvonne pleasantly, replacing her spectacles. “I’m so sorry.”
Sold out? But there’s one right in front of me.
“Could I buy that one, please?” I ask politely, pointing at it.
“Ah.” Her brow creases. “I’m afraid not. That one is for display purposes only.”
I stare at her in slight bewilderment. “But you’ve sold out.”
“Exactly.” She nods in agreement. “As I say. Sold out.”
“So…couldn’t I buy it?”
“This is a display llama,” she says in slow, distinct tones. “For display.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, trying to stay patient. “If it’s sold out, why are you displaying it?”
“Because it’s part of the range.” She smiles. “Very popular.”
“But no one can buy it!” I say in frustration. “It’s sold out! So this is misleading. You’re luring people to your stand like a mirage in the desert! You’re toying with people’s hopes! Is that fair? Is that just? Is that human?”
Abruptly, I realize I’ve raised my voice, and a few people are staring at me, including Yvonne, whose smile has become a little rigid.
“I’m afraid the llama’s sold out,” she repeats politely, as though beginning the conversation again. “Would you like a turtle instead? Lovely sequins, very popular.”
I glance briefly at the sequined turtle—which doesn’t hold a candle to the llama—then back at Yvonne. For a few moments I’m silent. I’m not a vengeful person, but I have taken against Yvonne, with her gold spectacles and power trips.
“May I look at the llama, please?” I ask after a few moments.
Yvonne’s eyes narrow, but I can tell she can’t think of a reason to say no, so eventually she replies, “Certainly you may.” She lifts it off its nail and places it in front of me on the stall, adding, “As I say, it’s sold out.”
“Of course.” I match her pleasant tone. “I absolutely understand that it’s sold out and you can’t sell me this one even though it’s right here in my hands. It makes total sense.”
Yvonne doesn’t reply, but as I dart a glance at her I can