Page 86 of The Secret Christmas Bookshop
‘Um.’ She blinked herself back to the present. ‘Mary andWinnie are going to kick off the open mic with “Santa Baby” and “Fairytale of New York”. They wanted to do “Carol of the Bells”, but as it’s just the two of them I was worried it would sound a bit sad – haunting, rather than uplifting. Winnie’s message says they’re prepared to compromise on this occasion.’
Harry rolled his eyes. ‘As if singing some fun Christmas songs is a compromise. Mistingham’s not Norwich Cathedral, for God’s sake! I’m going to set up my own choir next year.’
‘Oh you are, are you?’ Sophie walked towards him. ‘You’ve finally caught the community bug, after spending all your time up until now as the Dark Demon Lord of Mistingham?’
He stared her down. ‘I take it back. And I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it wasn’t for you.’
Sophie laughed. ‘Don’t you mean May?’
‘No, I mean you. I hope we can do it together next year, too. Build on our success.’
She busied herself finding Harry’s hat and beard. ‘We have to see if this yearisa success first.’
He didn’t reply, and when she finally looked up, he was watching her intently from the doorway.
‘Golly, it looks magical!’ Fiona said when she, Ermin, Jazz and Poppet stepped onto the green. The bar had just opened, and Sophie was helping Jason with the awning of his hired food truck. He was selling miniature baked Alaskas to be eaten then and there, and some full-sized ones for customers to take home for Christmas Day.
Relief shot through her like a lightning bolt, because Fiona was right.
Itdidlook magical, with all Harry’s bunting up aroundthe edge of the green, flapping gaily in the strong wind. The stalls were bright and enticing, the Hook the Duck and Christmas Tree Carnival Toss glossy and bright, the Rudolph Hoopla drawing attention with its flashing lights and blaring soundtrack. They’d put that in the corner farthest from the oak tree, which had the open mic stage beneath it, so that everyone who had bravely agreed to perform wouldn’t be drowned out.
‘I’m so glad you think so,’ she said.
‘The tree looks wonderful.’ Ermin laughed and rocked back on his heels. ‘The little goat!’
‘A homage to Felix,’ Sophie explained, as Jason grunted and yanked the awning so that it finally slid up, revealing his neat counter. ‘And we’ll be hanging the homemade decorations, with wishes and gratitude notes, throughout the evening.’
‘Where’s Harry?’ Fiona asked.
‘He’s in the hall, getting all set up for Santa Claus.’ Sophie mouthed the last two words, realizing there were a few families here already and not wanting to ruin anyone’s Christmas before it had even started. ‘We’ve set his grotto up behind the village hall, a little bit out of the way, but if the weather gets too bad we can move him inside.’
‘I helped May make the grotto last minute,’ Jazz said proudly. She was wearing a pair of holly deely boppers, her soft silver jumper and warm-looking coat clearly from Hartley Country Apparel. ‘It’s a tent and some paper chains, but – even if I do say so myself – it is totally banging.’
‘Banging what?’ Ermin looked alarmed.
Jazz laughed and pulled him over to the Carnival Toss, saying something about a wager.
Then it was just Fiona and Sophie, and Jason setting up his display of peaked desserts that looked like mini snow-covered mountains.
‘You’ve done a wonderful job, Sophie,’ Fiona said.
Sophie smiled even as her spirits sank, because her friend still sounded frosty, which was appropriate for the time of year but so unlike her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said in a rush. ‘I’m sorry I accused you of lying to me. I was just desperate to—’ She stopped herself. ‘No excuses. It was wrong of me.’
Fiona smiled. ‘I know you’re sorry, and it’s OK. I understand why you thought I might be behind the books. Any luck finding the culprit?’
She shook her head. She could hear Natasha calling her, knew she needed to go.
‘What about Cornwall?’ Fiona asked. ‘What about everyone here? The old sweet shop? Harry?’
‘I …’ Sophie didn’t want to tell her now. Fiona had been so kind to her, she deserved more than a hurried explanation in the middle of the festival. ‘Can we talk about it later?’
Fiona nodded, but there was a barrier between them that hadn’t been there before. Sophie hoped that, once she told her she was staying, they would be able to knock it down. ‘I hope you make the right decision foryou, Sophie,’ she said. ‘Natasha’s calling you, I think.’
‘She is.’ Sophie hurried over to the bar truck, leaving her friend behind.
Soon the green was teeming with people young and old, strolling and running, laughing and chatting. A queue wasforming in front of Christmas Hook the Duck, proving that traditions were hard to break, but there was also a steady stream of people going into the village hall, coming out with handmade decorations and paper plates heaped with pot-luck lasagne and mini turkey pies, salads and pigs in blankets. Mary and Winnie were first in a long list of people preparing for their open-mic performances, and Sophie was triumphant – their blend of new and old was working perfectly.
