Page 1 of The Village Christmas Party

PROLOGUE

I’ve always loved Christmas. It’s such a magical time of year and I love everything about it, from cosy nights in front of the fire, to seeing family and friends. And, of course, it is the season of giving.

This year, as usual, I will be busy arranging the Christmas bash for the pensioners at the local community centre in the village. I have been ticking off my endless list and checking it twice, leaving nothing to chance, so I know that this year’s party will be another huge success. The other wonderful volunteers and I will make sure of that, as we all hate the thought of anyone spending Christmas time alone.

This time of year always makes me think of my grandparents, fondly remembering the happy times I spent with them – it’s one of the reasons I started volunteering after they passed.

One evening, I had sat with my grandmother on the window seat in her red-bricked Victorian house and looked at the white moon in the navy sky. The sky was studded with shimmering stars that evening and the dark streets illuminated softly by street lamps.

‘Is that the North Star?’ I asked my gran, pointing to the brightest star in the sky.

‘Actually, Lauren, no it isn’t,’ she had told me. ‘Many people think it is, but in fact the brightest star in the sky is called Sirius.’

‘So is that the one the Wise Men followed to see the baby Jesus?’ I asked her.

‘It is.’ She smiled.

I was six years old and had been practising for our school nativity, so I’d learned all about the Three Kings and baby Jesus.

‘I wonder if baby Jesus liked his presents?’ I asked.

‘I’m sure he did.’ She had smiled again. ‘Everyone likes to receive presents, don’t they?’

‘Yes. What are frankincense and myrrh?’ I’d asked.

My mum told me that from an early age I liked to ask a lot of questions.

‘They were scented oils that people used as perfumes,’ Gran explained. ‘The giving of gifts at Christmas has carried on ever since, to celebrate and remember the birth of Jesus.’

‘Those kings were very kind, weren’t they? Walking all that way to bring the baby Jesus a special gift,’ I said thoughtfully.

‘They were, although he was a very important child. Probably the most important thing in life is to be kind and giving.’ She had smiled down at me.

‘Just like you, Grandma.’

I slid off the window seat and followed the scent of vanilla coming from the Christmas biscuits that were baking in the oven. Later, I had helped Gran to decorate the Christmas tree, hanging a snowman I had made in school, along with some foil snowflakes and a robin made from felt.

Of course, I was too young to remember the exact details of the conversation I had that evening, but my mother was to recount it to me twenty years later, when we were clearing out my grandmother’s house after she had sadly passed away. I’d glanced out at the stars on a winter’s evening from the verysame window seat and Mum had told me tales that made the memories come flooding back.

Grandma Lily had taught me lots of things throughout her life, including how to make Christmas cookies, but what I will always remember her for is telling me that we should always be kind to people, especially those who don’t have as much as we do.

It’s something that has stayed with me throughout my life.

Kindness can go a long way.

ONE

‘Here.’ I slip some perfume and face cream samples into a bag for the elderly customer at the cosmetic counter at Bentham’s Department Store.

‘Don’t tell the boss I have given you more than one sample,’ I whisper, nodding towards a colleague who is standing a few feet away. We are frequently told not to give out too many free make-up samples, unless customers specifically request them, which I always think is a bit unfair. Especially as there are often loads left over after the Christmas rush that are usually pocketed by the staff.

‘Ooh, thank you.’ The pensioner in the grey woollen coat with a maroon scarf tucked inside looks delighted. ‘I needed a little something extra for my daughter’s present, these samples will go down a treat. Merry Christmas, love.’

‘Merry Christmas,’ I tell the lady, who, having forked out forty pounds on a face cream, I’d say deserves those freebies.

It’s ten days before Christmas and the shoppers are out in force, many of them taking advantage of the Christmas wrapping service, which although it takes a little time, we have plenty of part-time staff over the holidays, mainly college students, assigned to such tasks.

It might not have been my lifelong ambition to work in a department store, but the look on customers’ faces, especially at Christmas time for a service well done, always gives me a feeling of job satisfaction. Especially when I give them a makeover. I trained as a beauty therapist and still enjoy the buzz of working on the make-up counter in a large store, rather than a small salon.

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