Carmen and Mrs Brissett are on wish-granting duty, but there’s a lot more people than there have been in recent days, and it doesn’t look like they’re keeping on top of things. Rhonda from the hat shop is carrying a jumper and rushing about looking for someone she’s obviously lost track of, and the florist has got a poinsettia under one arm and a snowglobe in the other and looks like he needs a map or a rescue by helicopter.
We’re automatically heading towards the magical nutcracker anyway, but there’s a young woman getting a nut out of the vending machine, and everyone else is already occupied by other wishes so no one’s paying attention. James and I crouch down by the fence surrounding the nutcracker, at the back and out of the woman’s sight, trying to make it look like we’re mending a broken fencepost if we do get caught, although I don’t know how because he’s got an arm in plaster and we’re both still eating chestnuts.
‘I wish I could afford to give my family a proper Christmas.’ The woman’s voice breaks as she speaks to the nutcracker. ‘Everything’s been so hard since my husband left. I can’t take as many shifts because I’ve got to look after the children, and they need things, and I can’t afford a Christmas dinner, let alone any presents. Please help me give them the Christmas they deserve after such an awful year.’
James’s eyes don’t leave mine, and I watch his beautiful brown eyes get wider and sadder with every word she speaks.
‘Heartbreaking,’ he mouths, and I agree, trying to think of how we can help her.
‘What about a hamper?’ I watch over my shoulder as the woman throws her nutshell into the garden and starts walking away.
He nods enthusiastically and I shove both the bags of chestnuts at him and use his shoulder to push myself up before he has a chance because there’s bound to be a bit of running involved. ‘You stay, I’ll go.’
‘Nee?’ When I turn around, he tosses his shop keys to me. ‘There’s a wooden crate behind my counter. Fill it with everything you can from everyone. I’ll cover the costs.’
I don’t have time to argue with him because the woman is getting away and he has to scramble after her. I wave to Stacey as I let myself into his shop, find the empty wooden crate and lock up behind me as I dash from shop to shop, filling it with chocolates from Carmen, sweets from Hubert, an armful of soaps and bath bombs, and a couple of scented candles from Mrs Thwaite. At the bakery, they give me a box filled with a selection of every cake in their display cases, the florist puts in an Amaryllis and a Christmas rose, and the coffee shop throws over a couple of bags of their flavoured coffee.
When I come out of my final shop, I grab a tree from the tree lot, and look desperately around for James.
‘That way!’ Rhonda points towards the car park. ‘He went to get something so I’ve ended up watching him watching her in a vicious circle of stalking. You haven’t seen a little girl who wants a pony, by any chance, have you?’
‘No,’ I shout back, hoping to all the reindeer gods that she hasn’t got an actual pony hidden somewhere. Scrooge’s budget might have increased but it would never go that far.
I finally see James at the edge of the car park, looking around for me. There has to be a better system of doing this. The wish-granters of the past never seemed to run around like headless horseflies and lose half the recipients of the wishes they were meant to be granting.
‘Excuse me?’ James stops the woman just as she’s about to get into a battered old car that looks like it’s going to fall apart at any moment. She looks nervous at being stopped by a random man in the car park as I run up panting. You wouldn’t think it was possible to sweat this much on a cold December day. If we come back next year, we’re going to have to come up with a better wish-granting system.
‘Hi, we work …’ Gasp. Wheeze. Choke. My new year’s resolution needs to be to do some exercise. Again. One half-hearted jog last January clearly wasn’t enough.
Thankfully James takes over, giving his usual sleek and endearing introduction while I try to get my breath back. ‘We work for Nutcracker Lane. You’re our hundredth visitor of the day and you’ve won a prize. We’d like to give you this hamper as a thank you for your custom.’
I hand her the wooden crate full of goodies, and she’s clearly surprised by the weight of it when she takes it in her arms. I lean the tree against the door of her car, and James holds up an envelope and tucks it in down the side of the crate. ‘Just a little something extra.’
It’s a gift voucher for the out-of-town supermarket two roads away. I can’t see how much it’s for but I know James well enough to know that it’ll be a large amount and that he paid for it himself and won’t claim it back, and I feel my heart swell in my chest, and it’s not just from being short of breath.
The woman bursts into tears. ‘But I just said to the …’ Her finger points to the building and she stares at the entrance where the nutcracker stands before looking between us. I think she’s worked out that we’ve somehow heard her wish and not that the nutcracker is actually magical, but she doesn’t say it. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she says instead, looking down at the array of goodies in the crate, which really would’ve been packed nicely and done up with some tissue paper and a ribbon if I’d had a few more
