Page 35 of The Gingerbread Cafe
In fact, she’d go as far as to say she’d enjoyed her evening, with her rebellious class and their talks of embracing every season. And perhaps Lukas’s re-creation of The Gingerbread Café, without its usual festive colour scheme, had been the final sign that it wouldn’t hurt to try.
So with a heart full of courage from conquering the near-impossible, there had felt like no better time to take the next daunting step. And just like pulling off a plaster, once she’d decided, she knew it was better to get on with it. Sometimes having a Christmas heckler on hand was a useful thing. Or maybe there was just something about Lukas that made Gretel look at things differently.
‘There are spare boxes and old papers in the storeroom,’ Lukas said, as though packing away Christmas was the easiest thing in the world.
‘I’ll grab some tissue paper for the delicate bits,’ Gretel added, like they were simply making a list. One item at a time. One foot in front of the other. People did this every year.
‘Talking of tissues,’ Lukas said softly, pulling a box from behind the counter and arriving at her side.
She hadn’t even noticed that tears had begun quietly falling, but she knew they were no more than a gentle release. An evaporation of emotions that were ready to take flight.
And once they’d gathered their packing materials – the things which would ensure the safe keeping of Gretel’s memories – they set to work, like two unlikely elves.
‘I won’t miss this tinsel,’ Lukas joked lightly, as he stood on a chair trying to coax the foil garlands from the ceiling.
Gretel remembered him batting away an unruly strand that had tried to attack him when they’d met Mr Birdwhistle (Junior) at the café just a few weeks before, and tried not to giggle.
Lukas and Gretel seemed to have silently agreed to begin with decorations which would cause the least emotion to pack away. Tinsel, which lived out of reach and didn’t have a face, seemed like the perfect start.
Once they’d done that, the artificial holly wreaths in the windows felt easy enough.
‘They’re actually quite spiky,’ said Gretel, as she tried to arrange them neatly inside a box.
‘No good can come of decor that tries to attack you,’ Lukas teased, giving the packed box of tinsel the side-eye.
‘The windows do look quite bare now.’ Gretel scratched her head. ‘But I’ll think of something.’
‘You’re creative,’ Lukas agreed.
Gretel nodded as she skipped towards the kitchen to collect something she’d already created. When she returned, placing her stained-glass version of Nell outside a gingerbread house in the café’s bay window, they both smiled.
‘She loved a good nosey,’ said Lukas. ‘That’s the perfect place for her.’
Together they took down the snowflake lights which dangled from the ceiling, but agreed that a few sets of warm white fairy lights should stay.
‘And I’ll always make room for tealights on tables,’ Gretel reasoned. ‘We still want to keep the cosy atmosphere and that lovely spicy fragrance.’ It danced around them right then and made the air feel enchanted.
‘The log fire will still be great when it’s chilly,’ Lukas added. ‘But maybe not in July.’
They looked at each other, their mouths unable to resist a smile. She was grateful for his humour to lighten an occasion she’d feared would be dark, and for the soft tinkle of non-festive piano music which the jukebox seemed to have selected for them.
And before she even realised it, she was packing away her glass ornaments too. As she wrapped each one in tissue paper she said a small goodbye. The little figures had become like old friends, after all. But she focused her thoughts on the new friends she was making. Real-life ones. And she could still carry memories in her head, couldn’t she? Just like Amber had said.
‘It’s not so muchgoodbyeassee you soon,’ she whispered, knowing that Christmas would be back. She just had to hope she could wait until December to unwrap them.
In the meantime, there was still plenty of winter left. Lots of time for snow and hot drinks and woolly scarves, without the reindeer. And then spring would come, and she’d embrace that too.
She could sense Lukas was nearby as she spoke soft farewells to her glass creations – a solid support through this delicate journey. But he wasn’t intruding.
‘I’m not sure this feels quite right,’ Gretel mumbled into a tissue, as she tried to pack away Brigitte. ‘She symbolises my mum. Somehow she shouldn’t live in a box.’
Lukas put his hand on her arm. It was warm and stable, and the touch seemed to fill her with something that made her feel safe. ‘Then we’ll think of something.’
Gretel nodded and closed the lid. Just for now. Because she trusted that they would.
Once they’d put Gretel’s plastic tree and the other carefully packed boxes into the store cupboard, Lukas enveloped her in a hug and kissed her softly on the cheek. As though pulling away would be too hard for them both, he held his lips against her skin. She noticed with a thrill that they’d been touching for far too long for it to be passed off as simple friendship.
In that moment, she felt almost like a glass fairy being gently wrapped in tissue paper too. Only somehow, her wings were getting stronger.
