belt, hoping it was the kind of outfit Santa’s helpers might wear. She stapled a ball of silver tinsel to the point of a bright red woolly hat and it stood upright and looked quite elfish once she’d stuffed it with her hair. With fingerless mittens and knee-high black boots she hoped she’d be able to put up with the cold.
In her mum’s little car she bowled beneath the lights hanging gaily between the trees lining Main Road and took the lane to Fen Drove, headlights picking out the icy skeletons of hedges, mind fixed on the day ahead. ‘It is what it is,’ she philosophised aloud. ‘Even Christopher Carlysle can’t expect Christmas Opening perfection. I’ll settle for avoiding chaos.’
She arrived at Carlysle Courtyard to see every shop brightly lit. Mark from the model shop emerged dressed as a beaming Santa, lengths of tinsel floating from his hands. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he cried. ‘That idiot Simeon’s locked the gazebo in the office. How are we supposed to get it up and decorated?’
‘I have the key.’ Hannah brandished it, buoyed by a fizz of excitement at temporarily returning to the Courtyard team.
Gina hurried out of Paraphernalia, her denim-clad legs and sweater-covered arms emerging from a Christmas pudding outfit. ‘Hannah – hoorah, you’ve come to save us!’ just as Perla and Teo trotted out of Posh Nosh in reindeer costumes and painted-on red noses.
From that instant, Hannah felt completely steeped in Christmas. Mark and Teo helped erect the gazebo. It wanted to lurch like a drunk on the uneven pavers but Mark, talented at assembly, made it submit. Soon it shone with red, blue and green lights. A small pick-up arrived with the balloon arch for the entrance and Hannah pulled off her coat and sprinted up the drive in her elf costume to supervise its placement.
Cars began to arrive, including Christopher Carlysle’s. ‘Oh, good,’ Hannah panted when she saw his bulky figure, her hands busily twisting tinsel around the gazebo uprights. ‘Can you do the car park marshalling? There are no lines on gravel. If you see Santa, send him straight to the grotto. He’s late.’
Christopher put on a high-vis vest and meekly went to do as bid. Hannah blew on her chilly fingers and surveyed the courtyard. Every illuminated shop window glowed and twinkled, tinsel glimmered and a rainbow of baubles reflected the magical scene. She snapped her fingers. ‘Presents for the grotto!’ They were in the office, wrapped already and piled in a hessian sack with rope handles – Simeon had at least followed her plans and kept everything bubbling.
Now all they needed was Santa. He arrived five minutes late, red coat flying, puffing apologies. ‘Had to go back for my beard!’ The people milling in the courtyard waiting for the shops to open clapped and Santa – real name Ivan – began ho-ho-hoing as beaming kids lined up, craning to admire his corpulent red figure and luxuriant white beard.
Then it was ten o’clock and the shop doors were thrown open with gleeful shouts of, ‘Merry Christmas! Welcome to—’ And each trader tried to shout the name of their shop louder than the others.
Nan and Brett were among the early birds, Brett wearing a Cossack hat over his thin hair, Nan’s eyes watering behind her glasses. She gave Hannah a huge hug. ‘Isn’t it lovely? There must be a thousand lights blazing. Have you had a wonderful time in Sweden? Was it even more wintry than here?’
‘Awesome,’ Hannah replied honestly, hugging her grandmother’s tiny figure. She felt as small and slight as Josie. ‘Have you had a lovely time with Brett?’
‘He’s looked after me beautifully,’ Nan declared. Brett smiled bashfully. He was a quiet man. Unless directly addressed, his conversation usually amounted to ‘Hello, there!’ and, later, ‘Cheerio!’ Nan’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’ll be glad to get back home though. We’ve decided we’re too set in our ways for marriage. I think I’m Brett’s girlfriend.’
Hannah couldn’t resist whispering back, ‘And I think I’m Nico’s girlfriend.’
‘Oh, Hannah! He’s such a nice boy.’ Nan gave her another squeeze. ‘I’m too tired for shopping so we’ll just tootle off to Posh Nosh for stollen and mince pies.’
‘I won’t mind if you want to go straight home,’ Hannah said, concerned.
But Nan smiled. ‘No, I’ll hang around. Maybe something exciting will happen.’
‘Mark’s doing a demo of making a model sleigh at eleven if that’s what you mean,’ Hannah joked. ‘If Nico arrives, Nan, no teasing him about me, OK?