She asks if I remember the inflatable snowglobes that used to be outside. I haven’t thought about them in years, but I remember how much I loved them when I was little – they were like a bouncy castle, but covered by a transparent dome, and the bouncy bit was filled with fake snow and there was a wind machine that blew it around so you felt like you were inside a big, bouncy snowglobe. They’re another thing on the long list of things that have been cut since the days of my childhood.
She tells me her grandson is expecting a baby of his own and always said he hoped he’d bring his own children here one day to play inside the bouncy snowglobes, and she looks forlorn as she comments about how different things are now.
‘He’s taking advantage because you owe him for the broken nutcracker,’ Stacey says after I walk the lady to the door and wave her off.
‘I don’t think he is,’ I say. ‘He couldn’t have cared less about it.’
‘I know he bought us hot drinks this morning, but he can’t send his customers over here for us to wrap his goods for him. If he can’t do it, he should hire someone who can. He’s our competition, Nia. We can’t help each other out like this.’
The sadness hits me out of the blue, wiping out how good it felt as that woman picked out her favourite bow and ran her fingers through our ribbon selection to choose the perfect match. She’s not wrong. We shouldn’t be doing favours for other shops. That’s the problem with Nutcracker Lane now. We can’t care about our co-workers. It’s every man for himself. ‘I don’t mind, Stace. I think it took a lot for him to ask that. He doesn’t seem like the type who finds it easy to admit he can’t do something.’
‘If that woman couldn’t have got it gift-wrapped, maybe she’d have reconsidered buying it. He would’ve lost a sale and you might’ve given him a sale by doing it for him. And now you’ve done it once, it’ll be the first of many – you watch.’
‘Is this what we’ve become?’ I’m leaning on my folded arms on the counter opposite Stacey and I bang my head down and press my forehead into them. ‘Splitting hairs about a single sale? He needed a favour and I was only too happy to help. Nutcracker Lane shouldn’t be trying to stop that, and as it is, quite frankly I’m not even sure I want to work here next year.’
The realisation that that’s the reality now is enough to make me blink back tears. ‘It shouldn’t be like this. Doing that reminded me of what Nutcracker Lane used to be like when everyone helped each other and it was about making Christmas the best it could be for everyone who visited here. That’s what’s missing from the place this year – goodwill and community spirit. This stupid competition and the Scroogey twit who organised it – pitting us all against each other rather than letting us be friends and help each other out … That’s where we’re going wrong. Do you remember when it was like one big happy family here?’
I stand up straight and push my fringe back. ‘We should be happy to gift-wrap his items while he’s injured. Do you remember how the jumper shop used to line the florist’s poinsettias up along their window display, red and white ones alternating between the jumpers, and now they won’t because someone might walk out without buying a jumper but go across to buy a poinsettia at the florist’s instead, or how the florist used to dress up floral displays in children’s Christmas jumpers and point customers across the lane if they asked about it? What about how Hubert in the sweetshop and Carmen in the chocolate shop used to have free samples of each other’s products for customers to try, and the hat shop and jumper shop used to offer each other’s customers a discount if they bought things from both of them?
‘I saw Rhonda and Mrs Brissett walk past each other yesterday and neither of them even looked at each other, and they used to eat lunch together every day. This whole thing is so wrong. There’s an atmosphere in the air and customers can sense it. That’s going to kill off Nutcracker Lane faster than anything else.’
‘Maybe that’s what Scrooge is aiming for.’
‘It goes against everything Nutcracker Lane has ever stood for. Christmas isn’t meant to be about profiteering – it’s meant to be about hope, and joy, and family, and saying goodbye to the year that’s passed and appreciating the good things in life.’
‘What are you going to do about it? Hubert said he’d been trying to get Scrooge on the phone but it just rings out. He’s either gone for the year or he’s screening us.’
‘I don’t know, but I’m not the only one who feels like this.’ I point towards James’s shop. ‘Wrapping that snowglobe reminded me of the good parts of Nutcracker Lane that have been forgotten in the last few days. Maybe we just need to remind the others …’
She gives me a look of scepticism, but it’s the most hopeful I’ve felt for a while. Surely we can fight this if we stand together and not divided?
***
Simon is working late so Stacey left at half past three to collect Lily from school, and it’s nearly six o’clock before I’ve finished tidying and cashing up for the night. Since we made some changes to the window displays earlier, there’s been an increase in people stopping to look, and it turned into quite a busy afternoon – so busy that I’ve even managed to stop obsessively watching James’s shop and trying to think of reasonable excuses to go over there. I’m out the back putting tomorrow’s
