‘And Scrooge ruined that?’
‘Nothing can run on empty. It’s been a never-ending snowball for the past few years since he came onboard. I don’t even know his real name. He just hides behind this Ebenezer façade.’
‘You’ve got to admit it’s a clever play on words.’
I sit back on my knees and point a warning finger at him. ‘Don’t you dare compliment that horrible man in front of me. One more word of praise for him and you’re not coming back to mine for Christmas-tree-shaped crumpets for supper.’
‘I was joking, Nee.’ He takes hold of my pointing finger and folds it down. ‘Is there seriously even festive-shaped food now? Do they taste better because they’re in the shape of a tree?’
‘Of course they do.’ I pretend to be outraged. ‘It’s a known fact. Like Easter eggs. All chocolate tastes better when it’s egg-shaped.’
He goes to protest but I interrupt him. ‘Don’t say it’s the same chocolate in a different mould. There’s science to it. All seasonally shaped food is better.’
I can’t hold back the giggles any longer and it starts him off too.
‘All I can say,’ he says between gasps for breath, ‘is that you have to prove it because it’s been years since I had crumpets and now you’ve mentioned them, there is nothing I want more in the universe.’
I don’t know if it’s the promise of hot buttered festively shaped crumpets or James’s desire to get away from the Christmas music, but time seems to fly after that. We make a good three-handed tag team of me lining up boards and keeping them in position while James drives screws in with his electric screwdriver, holding each screw gingerly with the fingers of his broken arm, and when we’re done, it looks like a different shop.
It’s already much brighter in here since I changed the lightbulbs the other day, and the distressed-look shelving fits perfectly with our handmade aesthetic. It lines the right wall opposite the till, and the shop floor in between looks much better without tables cluttering it up. James has already started redistributing our stock into prominent positions on the shelves and is lining up my wooden gingerbread houses like a miniature village when I start untangling fairy lights to wind around the edges.
I nudge my elbow carefully against his right arm as I walk around him. ‘Thank you.’
He cocks his head to the side like he can’t work out what I’m thanking him for.
‘For all your help,’ I clarify. ‘For all the tips and pointers and your ex-retail professional eye or something.’ I don’t know much about his job and why he studied for a career in retail but works in an office, and he clearly isn’t going to elaborate. ‘We’re already getting more customers coming in after looking at the windows, and a few people have commented about how much brighter it looks in here, which is a nice way of saying it was dull before.’
‘It wasn’t dull, but you were trying to sell Christmas itself rather than your own products. You can’t rely on people to come in just because you’re a Christmas shop, you have to give them something to come in for. Looking festive isn’t a sales pitch. Nutcracker Lane no longer has the kind of excess customers who come for days out and spend hours wandering through every nook and cranny and meandering around every shop just for the experience of it. People come in for what they want, buy it, and get out. Not having all those tables to bang into will help too. It’s much easier to navigate the shop now.’
He points to the centre of the floor. ‘If you put one table there with a big display on it, it’ll give the shop a focus point, and customers will have space to browse. My legs are covered in bruises from walking into your tables.’
‘That’s because you don’t look where you’re going.’
‘Or because I’m distracted.’ He waggles his eyebrows with a grin, and then looks down at the plaster cast on his arm. ‘Admittedly, I think we both know I’m not the best at looking where I’m going.’
‘You’re amazing at retail though,’ I say, glad he didn’t continue the first part of that sentence. ‘Seriously, James. Stace and I are used to stalls at craft fairs, and we went into this thinking it would be the same, but customers expect something more here. We needed more help than we realised.’
‘You’re welcome. I want your shop to be a success as much as you do. Nutcracker Lane wouldn’t be the same without you, Nia.’
I go hot all over even though he must mean Starlight Rainbows, not me personally. ‘It wouldn’t be the same without your shop either.’
‘Yeah, the Macarena-ing Santa adds so much to the lane.’
‘I’ll miss it when it’s gone.’ I don’t add that I mean its owner, not the Santa itself. Believe me, no one’s missing that.
‘I won’t. I can’t wait to get out of here.’ There’s just enough of a waver in his voice to make me wonder which one of us needs the most convincing.
Chapter 11
‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my life. What are you doing to me?’
‘Trying to prove that cosy nights in, tree lights, and festive food have some merits after all …’
He lets out a long sigh and sinks further into my couch cushions. ‘Do you have any idea how long it’s been since someone made me crumpets and butter for supper?’
‘But Christmas-tree-shaped crumpets taste better than regular crumpets, right?’
He narrows his eyes at me. ‘All right, I’ll give you that one.’
‘Yes!’ I do a victory punch, being careful not to jog the sofa too much.
He came home with me after we finished in the shop, and now the living-room lights are off, and we’re both sitting on the sofa to admire the tree I finally got around to putting up last night. He’s got cushions packed around him to support
