Page 63 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
The first of December seemed like an auspicious day to be holding the first Christmas decorations workshop. They’d got through a successful, boisterous and well-attended book club meeting the previous Friday, and the discussion aboutThe Haunting Seasonwas continuing online, most people loving the different ghostly stories. Ollie, however, had swiftly turned her attention to the next event, and when the children started arriving at just after three on Thursday afternoon, her nerves threatened to take over.
‘We’re just upstairs,’ she said to the bearded man wearing a scarf covered in penguins, who was holding the hands of three young children. ‘Becky will get you set up.’
After promoting the event on A New Chapter’s Facebook page, and to anyone who brought children into the shop, the spaces had filled up quickly. Now the tables in the events space were laid out with magazines, a selection of Christmas wrapping paper, and child-friendly glue andscissors. Ollie and Becky had spent the previous afternoon, in moments when the shop was quiet, hanging up Ollie’s book-themed paper chains so their young customers could be inspired.
‘Oh wow!’ she heard a girl shout, and her jingling nerves tipped towards anticipation. If they could make this work, alongside the flashier events that she firmly believed should be a part of the bookshop’s future, then perhaps she really could please everyone.
‘OK, Christmas elves,’ she said, ten minutes later, once she’d explained how to make the decorations, ‘I want to see the most creative chains you can come up with. Nothing is off limits, apart from your clothes – and your parents’ clothes.’ There were giggles, a couple of groans from the older children, then the space became a hive of activity. The adults supervised the use of scissors, and the sound of slicing – and ripping – paper filled the air.
‘I want mine to be pink,’ a sandy-haired boy said to his mum.
‘OK, then. What about this paper?’ She held up a roll of wrapping paper covered in flamingos.
‘Yes!’ the little boy shouted, and then, when his mum explained what birds they were, spent a long time trying to say the wordflamingosbefore he gave up and began cutting strips.
‘I thought you said more parents were coming,’ Becky said, walking over to stand next to Ollie. ‘This isn’t a great ratio of children to helpers.’
Ollie frowned. ‘I think a couple of parents have been drop-offs, when they originally said they’d stay.’ She watched a young girl pick up a pair of scissors, her small handsstruggling to cope with the finger holes, before a mum swooped in and helped her slide them on. ‘It’s looking OK to me,’ she added. None of the children had to work alone for long, which was surely the main thing.
‘Toyou,’Becky said sharply. ‘Everything looks OK to you, though. That’s the problem!’ She sighed, muttered, ‘For fuck’s sake,’ and strode to the other side of the room. Ollie went to help two brothers with their black and silver paper chains, an unsettled feeling taking up residence in her gut.
For the rest of the session she flitted between tables, praising and helping, finding the right colour or image in the old magazines she’d collected. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, chains of links covering the tables and spilling onto the floor. Ollie was struggling to see the problem.
‘Is it Christmas now?’ a little girl called Amy asked Becky.
‘Nearly,’ she said. ‘Have you been thinking about what you’d like from Santa?’
Amy held up her paper chain, which had six links. ‘Some of these!’
Becky smiled. ‘You know what? You can take those home with you. You made them, and you can hang them up wherever you’d like to.’
Amy’s look of wonder seemed to light up the whole room, and Ollie had to give Becky credit: she didn’t think anyone else would notice that, under the surface, she was furious.
She stayed busy, helping the children cut paper and glue their strips together. Whenever she felt a prickling sensation on her neck, she thought it was probably Becky watching her. She was hurrying between tables, carrying a roll ofblue, mermaid-design wrapping paper, when Thea put a hand on her arm.
‘This was such a good idea,’ she said. ‘Paper chains are the most fun decorations: I think all the adults are having a huge nostalgia hit.’
‘Becky says there aren’t enough of them. Adults,’ she clarified, when Thea looked confused.
‘She was happy when we went through the list earlier.’
‘A couple of parents haven’t stayed, just dropped their children off. The ratio’s wrong, apparently.’
Thea squeezed her arm. ‘Let’s talk about it afterwards, OK?’
‘OK.’ Ollie nodded. She felt slightly sick. The situation reminded her of when she’d returned to Grady Books after her accident, and Ruth had started to question her decisions. It was the eroding of people’s trust in her – although with Becky, she’d never had it in the first place. But events, groups of people having fun and being inspired, were supposed to be her forte. ‘I just want to help make the bookshop successful,’ she said to Thea. ‘I’m honestly trying my best.’
‘I know that,’ Thea replied. ‘You’re enthusiastic and full of energy, and everything will be trial and error to begin with. We’ll talk to Becky: we’ll sort this out. Are you settling in OK, in the wider town? Port Karadow is a wonderful place to live.’
‘It’s so different to how I imagined it would be,’ Ollie admitted, ‘and I did a lot of daydreaming once I’d made the decision to move here. It’s different in a good way, though!’ She thought about Max kissing her on the sofa, the fire that burned between them – like their own, personal Yule log – and how, with every new encounter, it was getting harder for her to keep her hands off him. She could tellthat Max felt the same, but was respecting her request to take things slowly.
‘I’m so glad,’ Thea said. ‘This is going to be my first Christmas here, and I can’t wait.’
‘Are you and Ben doing a lot of partying?’
Thea grinned. ‘I wouldn’t say partying, exactly, but we’re going to make the most of everything that’s happening in town. I’m going out for drinks and pub grub with Ben, Meredith and Finn tomorrow night, actually. Do you want to come?’
‘Oh,’ Ollie said. ‘I don’t know …’
