Page 10 of The Cosy Travelling Christmas Shop

‘Seven?’

‘I’ll be there,’ Seren promised.

‘Freya will be bathed and in bed – but she’ll probably want you to read her a story.’

‘Three stories,’ Freya clarified, holding up four fingers and winking at Seren. ‘And you can play with my dolls,’ she said in a faux-whisper which was loud enough for her mother to hear.

Nicole pretended she hadn’t, and Seren put a finger to her lips and said, ‘Shhh,’ which made the little girl giggle.

‘We’d better let Seren get back to work before she gets told off,’ Nicole said, taking hold of the child’s hand. ‘Say goodbye.’

‘Bye.’ Freya gave Seren a broad grin and a wave.

Seren waved back, smiling, and she continued to smile as Nicole led Freya away to the sound of Freya wanting to know if Seren would have to go sit on the naughty step and not have any sweets.

Seren preferred manning the tills because it gave her a chance to sit down. She also liked it because she could chat to customers whilst she scanned their purchases, without the manager assuming she was skiving off for a natter with a friend. Nicole hadn’t been very far off the mark when she’d said to Freya that Seren would get told off, although the manager, Pamela, would couch the reprimand as a ‘direction’; in other words, ‘if you’re free, please could you stock up the fruit aisle, round up the baskets, check the sell-by-dates’ – anything which didn’t involve taking time out to speak to someone. Thank goodness her shift was about to end. Maybe if it wasn’t for Pamela she might like her job a little better, but as things stood now, she couldn’t wait to go home.

As her mind turned to the evening ahead, she thought she might make a start on making some Christmas decorations. Seeing all the crackers, cards and wrapping paper today had got her in the mood to do something creative and she always loved making things for Christmas. Her speciality was garlands and wreaths to go on the door, using fresh greenery she would gather from the park. She often had compliments from the neighbours when they saw the Christmas wreath hanging from a hook above the knocker, and she occasionally made one for them, too. Her favourite bit, apart from seeing the finished result, was trying to come up with new designs, such as the heart-shaped wreath she’d made last year. Although, with the bright red holly berries scattered through it, it had possibly been more suitable for Valentine’s Day than Christmas! All she would have needed to do was to swap the berries for roses, and she might have done if she’d had any reason to celebrate Valentine’s Day. The lack of a love interest in her life was a bit of a drawback when it came to the fourteenth of February.

Seren was just catching her breath after a flurry of customers and was counting down the minutes to the end of her shift, when a man placed a bottle of whisky on the conveyor belt.

She glanced up at him automatically as she scanned the item, and he must have mistaken her casual look for something more critical because as he reached for his wallet he said, ‘It’s not for me, it’s for my grandad’s birthday. He likes a drop of whisky.’

‘That’s nice.’ Seren’s thoughts immediately jumped to Aunt Nelly’s assessment of the gift of alcohol meaning the giver couldn’t be arsed to think of anything else, and she stifled a grin.

‘I’ve bought him a VR headset too. I hope he can work it.’ The man frowned as he handed over the money.

‘Wow, I wouldn’t mind one of those myself.’ It looked like the guycouldbe arsed, after all: unless he was buying it in the hope that his grandad couldn’t operate it and would give it back to the guy. Who was seriously good-looking, Seren thought. Tall, broad-shouldered, flat-stomached and brown-haired. His hands, she noticed, had dirt ingrained in the creases, although the rest of him looked clean and tidy.

‘He’s eighty-six today, and has got Parkinson’s. He’s always wanted to visit the pyramids in Egypt but he never had the opportunity or the funds. I guess he never will, now.’ He blinked and looked at a point over her shoulder, then his focus returned to her. ‘I’d take him to see them but it’s too late, so this is the next best thing. He had to move into a care home recently; only been there three weeks.’ He laughed self-consciously. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this.’

‘I have the sort of face that means people talk to me. I can be on an empty bus and if someone gets on, they always make a beeline to sit next to me,’ she said with a smile to show him she didn’t mind.

‘You have a pretty face.’ He stopped suddenly, looking horrified. ‘Sorry.’

Seren laughed. ‘I’m not! It’s not often anyone tells me I’m pretty.’

‘They should.’ He was earnest, like he meant it, but he was embarrassed too, as the hint of blush on his cheeks testified.

Aw… Seren was touched. She was also impressed by his thoughtfulness in his gift choices for his grandad. But even as she thought it, she wondered if an eighty-six-year-old would actually know what a VR headset was, which was quickly followed by the thought that a mobile gift shop would be unlikely to carry such an object. She still did the occasional search of the net to see if a mobile shop close enough to go to the care home had miraculously popped into being since the last time she’d looked.

She handed the man his change, and as he took it she checked out his left hand.

No ring – but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She’d dated a gym-bunny once, who wore a signet ring that used to belong to his dad, but he always took it off when he was working out. She guessed this guy probably worked with his hands and he might well remove a wedding ring whilst he was at work.

‘I hope your grandad likes his presents,’ she said, as he returned his wallet to his pocket and picked up the bottle of whisky.

‘So do I! It’s hard buying gifts for people, even if they are your relatives and you know them well.’

‘Definitely. I’ve already started thinking about what to buy people for Christmas.’

He shuddered. ‘Oh, God, please don’t mention Christmas.’

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘I’m not a fan. It’s far too commercialised. And expensive. And it starts too early. As soon as Bonfire Night is out of the way, all you’ll see and hear is Christmas.’

‘We’ve already started putting out Christmas stock,’ she pointed out.

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