Page 38 of Big Nick Energy
‘You look surprised,’ he says, his tone deadpan, his face scrunched that I’m not happier to see him.
Why must you always be so good-looking? Have a day off or something.‘I am. Did we arrange to meet?’
‘No but I rang and told your colleague Helen that I would be here to deliver the trees,’ he says, his arms rested against the tree next to him. ‘She said it’d be alright. There’d be someone here to receive them.’
I smile faintly. Helen and Olga were especially quick to take their leave tonight and I see a plan in motion here, one that will mean I will not be bringing in nice cakes for them tomorrow.
‘I must have missed that message. Come in,’ I say, opening the door fully and allowing him to enter. He seems dressed for work today. He’s wearing a fleece with the company logo, heavy-duty yellow work gloves, dark-blue jeans and brown work boots,that same grey woolly hat on his head. It’s not just one tree, he seems to have three that he hauls in with ease and they’re not tiny. They’re at least seven-footers, majestic in relation to the dinky five-foot plastic ones we have.
‘I brought stands too that you can borrow. I figured you’re a library, you’d be good at getting them back to me,’ he says.
‘Will there be fines if not?’ I joke.
‘No. I trust you,’ he says. I stop for a moment, accepting the compliment. I lead him through to the main part of the library so we have space to open up these trees. As soon as he gets through, he looks around. ‘Where are your workmates?’ he asks.
‘Only me,’ I say a little shyly, hoping he’s not figured out Helen’s ruse.
He looks me up and down. ‘You’ll have to help me erect them then.’ I bite my lip; he said the word ‘erect’, but nothing. He’s totally straight-faced, looking at me and waiting for an answer. I nod. ‘Where do you want me to put this one?’
I lead him over to a space nearest the desk. I watch him as he lines up the stand and then takes a cutter to the nets around the tree.
‘Any random women wrapped up in there?’ I joke.
‘Hope not,’ he replies. ‘Right, I’ll get the trunk in and then you do the screwing.’ I look at him, begging him to at least smile so I don’t appear puerile and inappropriate if I react, but nope. ‘Get on the floor so you can line it up.’ I do as I’m told as he lifts the tree and places it inside the holder without straining or discomfort. I, however, seem to be in that familiar place of being attacked by pine needles again. ‘Is the trunk central?’
‘Uh huh,’ I say, my hands going to the wingnuts on the stand and tightening them as hard as I can. I’m glad he can’t see my face but this is taking effort.
‘Screw a bit harder.’
Well at least I can giggle to myself under the foliage. He then does a strange thing, shaking it to see if it’s secure enough, and pine needles flood me again. My hair won’t survive this. I crawl out and stand up, looking up at the tree. ‘Woah, that’s a big boy.’ The problem is I’m not delving into innuendo here, that is an impressive, majestic tree. It’s the way the branches curl up at the bottom, as if it’s doing a little curtsey.
‘It’s a silver fir. Put a little water in the tray to keep her healthy,’ he says, looking on proudly. ‘That way you won’t lose too many needles.’
‘That’s good advice, thank you.’
He smiles and then comes over to me, using his massive gloves to reach out and brush my face. He’s unfeasibly close. ‘You’re covered again.’
‘Seems to be a theme with me,’ I say, grinning awkwardly. ‘Any other Christmas tree tips for me?’
‘Put the lights on from the bottom.’
‘Noted.’
He looks at the tiny fake tree next to the desk which looks a little sad in comparison. ‘What’s with those ornaments?’ he asks me.
‘Oh, we get the kids to make them. I did a workshop and they wrote the name of a book they want for Christmas on there and then went a bit crazy with the glitter,’ I explain. He doesn’t say a word, but I have that same feeling Old Nick gave me when he seemed to be judging my library activities.I am a grown woman who should really be doing more with her life than arts and crafts.Nick goes over and reads a few. ‘Thank you for the tree. Shall we get the others up?’ I ask.
He nods but is also looking around the library, intrigued. ‘That’s a lot of books…’ he says, nodding to the table I was working at, piled with books, rolls of brown paper, tape and Christmas ribbon.
‘You have no idea.’
‘Oh, is that for your book drive thing?’
I nod. ‘This is just a small fraction of the books.’ I walk him over to a storage cupboard and turn on the light. At the last count, we were at a little over four hundred and more come in every day. ‘I’m wrapping them with little tags and stuff…’ I say, hoping my panic at the task in hand doesn’t show. As my name is attached to the drive, I want things to be done well, I want the books to be presented nicely.
His eyes scan the room and then back to me. ‘You’re going to wrap all of these books yourself?’
‘I’m an over-achiever.’ Who doesn’t mind the occasional paper cut. Helen takes a box home every night to help but I don’t let Olga near them as she really can’t wrap for shit.
