‘You can come and steady the ladder, if you want. It’s a bit wobbly up here.’
‘Yeah,’ I mutter as I go across and put one foot on the bottom rung and lean my weight against it. ‘I’ve always thought the best place for someone with their arm in a cast and two broken ribs is right at the top of a rickety ladder.’
He lets out a guffaw. ‘And good morning to you too.’
I can’t ignore the little flutter at the sight of his smile. ‘Good morning, Grinch. And congratulations on another impressive Christmas jumper.’
He grins down at me and I find it impossible to tear my eyes away from his. I love that he’s somehow managed to find another Grinch-themed Christmas jumper, this one black with smaller Grinch faces all over it. He’s wearing butter-soft well-worn jeans and his broken arm isn’t in the sling, the sleeve of the jumper once again hooked around his elbow above the white cast.
We’re only a few feet away from the fence that surrounds the magical nutcracker, at one of the lampposts on the edge of the entrance court, and I’m distracted as a little blond boy holding his older sister’s hand goes up to it. His sister helps him get a walnut from the vending machine and tries to take him up to the nutcracker, but he shouts at her to leave him alone. He’s maybe five or six years old, and his sister looks in her pre-teen years, and she huffs and tells him he won’t be able to reach it by himself, but he shouts and pushes her away so she goes to stand outside the fence.
The scene intrigues me, from the scowl on the girl’s face as she pulls her phone out and starts prodding it instead, to the little boy making his way up the steps to the nutcracker, which he really is going to struggle to reach.
I glance up at James. The fingers of his good hand are still trying to attach the garland to the top of the lamppost, but I can tell he’s not concentrating on what he’s doing.
The steps were designed so that little ones of almost any height can reach, but the little boy still has to stand on tiptoes to put his nut into the open mouth, and then step back down and go around the back of the nutcracker to reach the lever and pull it down with both hands. The nut cracks and the little boy goes back up the steps to collect it, and I realise there are tears streaming down his face. The sister is still absorbed in her phone, and I bite my lip as I watch him reach up to collect his nut, and stand on the steps with it clutched in one hand. He leans up and touches the nutcracker’s furry beard.
‘I wish I had a friend,’ he whispers to it.
I can’t help the intake of breath and I have to chew my inside cheek to stop my eyes filling up. I look at James again and he’s not even pretending not to be listening now. He looks down at me and his mouth tips up in a sad half-smile.
No one else has heard. The sister is standing far enough away and still hasn’t looked up from her phone. There’s no one nearby, and the little boy hasn’t noticed us at the ladder. The boy eats his nut without taking his eyes off the nutcracker’s friendly face, and doesn’t look like he wants to move, until his sister shoves her phone back in her pocket and shouts over to him. ‘Hurry up. Mum and Dad are waiting by the trees.’
The little boy wipes his eyes and squares his shoulders, rallying himself as his sister hurries him away. He keeps looking back at the nutcracker, but still hasn’t noticed me and James listening in.
I’m so focused on them that it makes me jump when James steps down the ladder.
‘Oh God, right in the heart.’ He puts his hand on his chest when he’s back on solid ground and standing opposite me. ‘I’ve got an idea. Will you stay with them and don’t lose track of them? I’ll be back in a minute.’
I nod and he starts jogging towards his shop but within one step, he gasps in pain and slows to a fast walk. He hurries past the little boy and his sister, and I loiter, keeping an eye on them as she drags him down the lane towards the tree lot. I follow slowly, not wanting them to see me or wonder why this strange woman is following them, hiding behind pillars and lampposts. I pass Hubert and Carmen who are now chatting to the snowglobe seller, and wave to Stacey as I pass Starlight Rainbows.
I’m hiding behind a pillar when the two of them meet their parents at the corner of the lane before the covered part ends and it opens into the tree seller’s display at the edge of the car park. James reappears beside me, out of breath, probably from the pain of moving faster than broken ribs generally allow. He’s got a big nutcracker in his hand – a fifty-centimetre tall one with a silver sword in its hand, and a blue jacket with white accents and a silver trim. He nudges my arm, grins at me, and rushes across to the family.
‘Hi, excuse me?’ I watch him catch up with them. ‘I’m James. I work at Twinkles and Trinkets.’ He uses the nutcracker to point towards his shop and I attempt to hold my stomach in so they don’t see me lurking behind the nearest pillar when they look in this direction. ‘I was wondering if you could do me a favour?’
I love how, although he nods to the parents and sister, he talks only to the little boy. He sits down cross-legged on the floor directly in front of him. ‘See, I’ve got this very lonely nutcracker who’s desperately
