“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” I say, running my hand gently over the silver metallic hair. “So beautiful. How strong are these fronds, I wonder…?” I run my fingers through the metallic strands a few times—then carefully snap one off. At once I gasp in apparent horror. “Oh no, I’ve broken it. How could I be so careless?”
“What?” Yvonne makes a grab for the llama, but I swoop it out of her reach and open my eyes wide.
“What a terrible accident! I do apologize. And now it’s damaged, of course you won’t be able to display it, so I simply must buy it, to repay you.” I meet her gaze innocently. “At full price, naturally. I insist.”
“It doesn’t look damaged to me,” chimes in an elderly lady who has just joined me at the stall—but Yvonne and I both ignore her. This battle is mano a mano.
“How much is it?” I add, reaching for my purse, but Yvonne doesn’t reply. As I look up, I see a kind of glinty triumph in her eyes and feel a sudden qualm.
“Oh, I would never sell a damaged item,” she says, her smile even sweeter than before. “I’m afraid it will have to be removed from display altogether. Could you give it to me, please? I would rather not have damaged goods on view, as they compromise my high standards.”
She holds out her hand and I glare at her, trying to think of a response, before reluctantly handing over the llama.
“It looks perfect!” says the elderly lady—but neither of us flickers. I can’t believe Yvonne outwitted me.
“May I not buy it as damaged goods?” I make a last attempt. “Surely you don’t just waste damaged items?”
“But it’s not damaged!” says the elderly lady, sounding perplexed.
“I will be holding a damaged-goods sale in June,” snaps Yvonne with an air of finality. “You may consult my website for details.”
She drops the llama into a nearby cardboard box and Sellotapes it shut for good measure, shooting me a victorious look as she does so.
“Fine. Well, happy Christmas,” I say darkly, hoping that she can detect my subtext message: “You don’t deserve one.”
“And to you!” she replies breezily, clearly meaning, “I won, so I don’t care what you think.” Turning to the elderly lady, she says, “Can I help you?” and I give her a final resentful glare. Christmas shopping is brutal. Brutal.
I walk disconsolately away, and I’m about to text Janice to see where she is, when I hear her cheery voice hailing me: “Becky, there you are. Good news, love! I’ve ordered the smoked salmon and bought mince pies and I’ve got us some festive brandy!”
She proffers two little cups and I practically grab one from her. When you’ve had a run-in with a bureaucratic despot, festive brandy is definitely the solution.
“Delicious!” I say, draining it in one gulp. “Just what I needed. Let’s go and get some more.”
From: malcolmchristmaswholesale
To: Becky Brandon
Subject: Re: Llama tree ornament crisis
Dear Mrs. Brandon (née Bloomwood):
Thank you for your email.
I’m sorry to hear that you have been unable to purchase a silver llama tree ornament. Unfortunately, we do not have any in stock here at head office, as this product has been very popular.
I wish you every success with your Christmas decorations and suggest that you browse the attached catalog, showing our full range of tree ornaments.
With all best wishes for the festive period.
Yours sincerely,
Malcolm
From: malcolmchristmaswholesale
To: Becky Brandon
Subject: Re:Re:Re: Llama tree ornament crisis
Dear Mrs. Brandon (née Bloomwood):
Thank you for your email.
I assure you that we are not deliberately withholding supply of the silver llama in an attempt to create a “South Sea bubble” situation.
We are therefore not “playing a dangerous game,” as you put it. Nor do we agree that our actions will “probably threaten the economy and cause global havoc.”
With all best wishes for the festive period.
Yours sincerely,
Malcolm
CHATS
Christmas!
Martin
Becky, my back’s playing up, so might I bring along my orthopedic stool on Christmas Day?
Becky
Of course!
Jane
Martin, so sorry to hear about your back! In our street in Shoreditch, there’s a super new therapist called the Tantric Back Cooperative. Shall I book you an appointment?
Janice
In Oxshott we prefer qualified medical professionals, love.
Jane
What are you trying to say, Janice?
Janice
Nothing, Jane.
Jane
Yes, you are.
Janice
No, I’m not. What are YOU trying to say?
Martin
Ladies, ladies.
Janice
Be quiet, Martin.
Oh my God. My head.
It’s throbbing so hard, I’ve been forced to put sunglasses