I sidle to the edge of the doorway and peer out, expecting to see James’s shop in complete darkness like the rest of the lane at this time of night.
It’s not. It’s just as bright as it is in daytime.
The windows are empty compared to how they were at first because almost his entire stock has been repurposed to decorate the lane itself, but he’s definitely still there.
Bollocks.
I pace around the back room. There’s loads of work I could do. I could stay here all night if need be. I’ve got a kettle and plenty of teabags, and Carmen has been over to cheer me up with some ridiculously expensive-looking Christmas chocolates in a matte black box with gold ribbons and gold paper inside, and it’s full of a selection of her handmade festive-flavoured delights like peppermint, gingerbread, hazelnut cinnamon, stollen, and mince pie truffles dusted with sugar, so I’ll be set for a while, just until he leaves and I can walk home without worrying about running into him.
I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait for Christmas to be over. No more Nutcracker Lane and having to dance the dance of avoiding James on a daily basis. It’s only been a day and I’m already exhausted.
Just as I’m thinking how weird it is to be opposite him on the lane, knowing he’s there and he must’ve seen my light come on so he’ll know I’m here too, there’s a knock on the door.
I freeze.
‘Nia, it’s me.’ His voice is muffled through the door, distant with the space of the shop between us.
Of course it is. Who else is it going to be at this time of night?
I don’t know what I should do. Should I tell him to go away? He did when I told him to last night. Maybe I should stay silent and pretend the light is on an automatic timer to deter burglars. That’s reasonable, right? There doesn’t have to be anyone here. Maybe if I stay still, I can get away with turning it off in ten minutes and pretending it’s an automated security measure.
‘I can see your light, Nee; I know you’re in there.’
I don’t respond. Staying silent is the best option. He’ll have no choice but to go away eventually.
‘You know how difficult it is for me to get up off the floor so I’m going to sit down out here just so you know it’s worth the pain for a chance to talk to you.’ He doesn’t hide the groan as he obviously lowers himself down on the other side of the door, and there are a few clunks and bangs as he gets comfortable. ‘I suspect you’re hiding in the back, too scared to move in case I see you through the window, so now you know my back is turned and you can move freely. And I really hope you come to the door because I need to talk to you, Nia.’
I step down from the back room onto the shop floor. Perceptive as always. Scrooge has no right to be that perceptive.
‘And if you really have gone home and left the light on by mistake, I hope someone’s CCTV has captured this so you can see what an absolute plonker I look talking to myself through a door.’
The giggle bursts out unexpectedly and I clamp my hand over my mouth, horrified at myself. That wasn’t supposed to happen – not laughing at him or giving away my position.
He’s quiet for a few moments, but he’s obviously heard it because his tone is lighter when he speaks again. There was a hint of doubt in it before, but now he clearly knows I’m listening.
‘I can pinpoint the moment I fell in love with you.’
I fall over my own feet and stumble into the wall, knocking a huge holly-leaf plaque loose, and I grab it before it hits the floor. As I stand back upright, pleased at my unusual display of agility, I accidentally elbow a basket of hanging wooden Christmas pudding baubles and send them clattering to the floor loudly enough for Good King Wenceslas to hear, never mind James sitting right outside.
He can’t mean that. He’s just saying it to get a reaction. I set the holly-leaf wall plaque safely on the floor and look over the scattered baubles. He certainly got one. I ignore the mess and creep a bit nearer. I still don’t have to let him know I’m in here. He has enough trouble with getting up from the floor that I’ll have ample warning when he moves and there’ll be plenty of time to dive out of sight, and as for all the noise … Well, how does he know we’ve not been invaded by giant festive pigeons and it could be them in here breaking up the stock?
‘That night in the storeroom. When you made me sit down and reached up to push my hair back. It was the kindest, most gentle, thoughtful touch, and by the time I opened my eyes and touched your wrist, I was smitten.’
My breathing is shallow and my lungs feel too small for the amount of oxygen they suddenly need. I move closer to the front of the shop on autopilot.
‘And since then, I’ve fallen head-over-jingle-bells for you, Nia,’ he continues. ‘Please don’t let it end like this, because I think we’ve got something worth fighting for and I’m not giving up, just like you haven’t given up on Nutcracker Lane.’
The mention of the lane brings me back to my senses. Hearing that someone you’re in love with is also in love with you is enough to knock anyone a little off their skis, but remembering the lane is enough to remind me what this is all about and I yank my hand back from the door I was
