Page 27 of The Cosy Travelling Christmas Shop

They took their drinks to one of the high tables with equally high stools, and Seren was thankful she was wearing trousers. As it was, she had to enlist Tobias’s help to clamber onto the seat, but as he held her arm and helped her up, his hand warm on the sleeve of her silky blouse, she discovered she didn’t have the kind of reaction she would have expected to have had in response to his nearness: no fluttering in her tummy, no catching of her breath, no hint of desire. She’d had as much reaction to him as she would have done if she was having a drink with Aunt Nelly.

Interesting… And slightly disappointing. Although she didn’t for one moment consider Tobias as relationship material, it was disheartening to think he didn’t do anything for her when it came to romance.

Ah, well, at least she knew where she stood, so she decided to simply enjoy the evening for what it was and be relieved not to have the internal debate about whether they would kiss at the end of the evening, or whether he would ask her out again. It was going to be no to both of those things.

‘How is the van coming along?’ she asked as soon as they were settled. Seren felt a bit precarious on her perch, but at least the atmosphere in the wine bar was lively and upbeat. The place was trendy, with lots of steel and glass, and done out in shades of white and grey. The drinks menu, which was above the long shiny bar, was lit up and advertised cocktails she’d never heard of. What was a Pornstar Martini anyway?

‘I thought you might ask, so I’ve taken a couple of photos,’ he said, getting his phone out and showing them to her.

‘Gosh…’ Seren swallowed nervously. The inside of the vehicle was totally empty; the van had been gutted. The outside, though, had been resprayed. ‘What colour do you call that?’ she asked.

‘Vanilla.’

‘Seriously?’ Tobias nodded, and her lips began to twitch. ‘How appropriate.’

‘That’s what I thought. But at least this way you can change things up a bit if you wanted.’

When he’d given her the quote (she still felt cold and clammy when she thought how much this was costing her) and she’d agreed for him to do the conversion, Tobias had suggested she go for a neutral paint job, with the addition of decals, if she wanted, for decorations. It was a sound idea. If (when?) she decided to sell it on, all she’d have to do was remove the decals and all personalisation would disappear, which might make the van a more attractive prospect for the next buyer. It also made having a respray far cheaper, which had been music to her ears.

‘I’m so glad you’ve got rid of the ice cream cone,’ she said.

‘I’ve got rid of “O Sole Mio”, too,’ he told her. ‘The sound system you’ve got isn’t as old as the van. Although it’s not the most up-to-date model, it does allow you to put a pre-loaded USB stick in it. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of uploading some Christmas carols onto it.’

‘You did?’ Seren beamed at him. ‘That’s wonderful! I had visions of having to buy a new sound system. I looked them up online, and they’re not cheap.’

‘I’ve still got the shelves and the storage to construct, and the interior lighting to rig up, but the hardest part is done.’

‘When do you think it’ll be ready?’ Seren’s palms felt damp – this was starting to become very real all of a sudden.

‘In a couple of days, slightly ahead of schedule.’

She gazed at a spot over his right shoulder as she thought frantically. ‘That’s fine. I’ve booked in for a couple of Christmas fayres and markets, but the first one isn’t until a week Saturday. Hopefully it’ll be well attended. There’s a whole load of things going on as well as the market – they’ve got street performers, a candle-lit procession in the evening, and a Santa’s grotto.’ She swallowed nervously. ‘The extra few days will give me enough time to familiarise myself with the van and sort out the stock.’

Her dad’s idea of speaking to local crafts people had been a good one, as she’d found out when she went to the fair and spoke to some of them. A few people hadn’t wanted to know but others had been enthusiastic, and they’d agreed that as soon as the van was ready she’d get in touch with them and arrange to collect some of their stock.

‘I still can’t believe I’m doing this,’ she said. ‘I keep cringing when I think of the amount of money I’m spending, but at least I don’t have to shell out a fortune to fill the damned thing.’ She explained the arrangement she’d come to, adding, ‘I think I’ll be selling half Christmas things and half gifty stuff. I’ve also been making Christmas wreaths and garlands, so I’m not totally reliant on other people. I’ve managed to get hold of some nice ivy from the park, and the holly tree down the lane near where I live has got some lovely berries on it.’

She was about to show him some photos (she was particularly pleased with her wreaths, having experimented with a couple of new designs) when she realised Tobias wasn’t interested. He had a kind of glazed expression in his eye, so she picked up her wine and took a sip of that instead.

‘You might bump into Daniel,’ Tobias said.

‘Might I?’

‘He’s a Father Christmas.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Santa’s grotto? He might be the Santa at some of these places. I tried to get him to tell me where and when, but he went all shy on me.’ Tobias chortled. ‘I was going to ask if I could sit on his lap!’

‘What a magical and lovely thing to do.’

‘You think?’

‘Don’t you? Someone has to be Santa, to keep the myth going, and I think it’s wonderful that Daniel is doing it.’

‘All those screaming kids and grumpy parents? Better him than me.’

Indeed, Seren thought. Tobias didn’t seem the child-friendly type.

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