Page 10 of The Village Christmas Party

‘You’re not wrong. I love the buzz at Christmas time though.’

I enjoy the hustle and bustle, the faces of the excited children and the scent of the crisp, outside air every time the doors open. I don’t even mind the queues. Everyone seems in good spirits at this time of year. At least most people anyway.

‘Oh, it’s such a beautiful store. My husband used to love the café there on the second floor. I was surprised when they closed it down,’ says Eileen, taking a bite of shortbread.

The space was used to extend the floor that sells children’s clothing and toys, due to demand.

‘I know, it was a shame, although I think they had a lot of the competition from the Blue Teapot café next door.’

‘Probably. I must admit, I miss my working days sometimes,’ says Eileen with a faraway look in her eyes.

‘What did you do before you retired?’ I ask, realising I know nothing about Eileen’s previous life, only the person she is now, and even that is not on any deep, personal level.

‘Geoff and I ran a café in Kendal near the river,’ she tells me, a smile spreading across her face. ‘Christmas was magical. We had a huge tree outside and served up hot chocolate with all the trimmings and my lemon biscuits. Families would call in after a long walk,’ she recalls. ‘They were happy times.’

‘That sounds wonderful. I love working in the shop, but I could also imagine myself behind a counter serving hot drinks on freezing days to walkers. Maybe I could even bake some of the cakes.’

‘I do miss the days in the café sometimes,’ Eileen tells me. ‘I didn’t really want to retire but, to be honest, we were both worn out by the time we sold up. Growing old is such a nuisance,’ she says, and I imagine how hard it must be for those who still have an active mind, but grow tired. ‘And you could definitely serve your own cakes if you had a café, they’re wonderful,’ she says kindly.

We’re having such a pleasant conversation I have to tear myself away, and even consider not attending the walk, but I am the one that has organised it. Besides, it is always nice to make new friends. I don’t really have many, apart from Gemma, and a friend from my school days that I stay in touch with, but only meet up with occasionally since she moved out of the area. Eileen could most definitely become a friend, age being no barrier to friendships once you allow yourself to consider the possibility. I guess there are opportunities for friendships all around if we actually look for them.

‘Ooh, before I forget, I’ll get that casserole for you,’ says Eileen, getting to her feet.

She heads into the kitchen, before returning and presenting me with the food in a red earthenware dish.

‘Thank you, Eileen. I will enjoy that.’

‘No, thank you for stopping for a chat. And for the lovely gift, it was thoughtful of you.’ She smiles as she escorts me to the front door.

‘And I have your number now, so I’ll give you a little text in the morning and tell you how I slept,’ she says, holding her phone tightly in her hand.

‘Great. Thanks again, Eileen. Sweet dreams.’

SIX

The moon walking experience last night would have been better in the spring I realise, although it wasn’t a complete disaster. There was one particularly nervous young lady though, who I must admit I felt a little concerned about, and even thought about this morning when I woke up.

I received a text from Eileen this morning, telling me she slept like a log and I send her a thumbs up emoji, feeling happy that some good came from my staying and having a brew with her.

‘So how was the walk in the forest? What did you say it was called, moon bathing?’ Gemma raises an eyebrow.

‘Not quite what I imagined,’ I tell her, which is a bit of an understatement to say the least. ‘It was absolutely freezing for a start.’

‘What do you expect in December.’ She laughs. ‘You wouldn’t catch me out there in the middle of December, that’s for sure.’ She gives a little shiver as she reaches for her coffee, placed under the counter at work in a travel cup. It’s lovely having this time in the morning, before the main doors open and the customers drift in.

‘True enough. Anyway, the path through the forest was so dark we could barely see in front of us. I was annoyed that the flashlights I supplied weren’t very bright,’ I tell her. ‘I could actually kick myself about that, but luckily the group were fine about it and used the flashlights on their phones.’

‘Not the best start then.’

‘Not really. It was really slippy, and the sound of nocturnal animals was a bit disconcerting, to be honest,’ I tell her, recalling the sound of a screech owl and what sounded like a gunshot that had us all gasping. ‘It was only a firework from someone having a Christmas party somewhere, but in the darkness of the forest…’

‘Your imagination runs away with you?’

‘Exactly.’

She pulls a face. ‘It doesn’t sound that relaxing, although I don’t know exactly what you were expecting.’

‘Neither do I really. I guess I imagined a calm, mindful experience. I had even asked a lady from the community centre along, who is a trained counsellor. She was happy to volunteer her services, maybe in the hope of picking up some business, as she runs forest retreats. Anyway, we eventually reached a clearing where we set up our chairs and I managed to get a campfire started.’

---