Page 4 of The Cosy Travelling Christmas Shop

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Seren said. As her great-aunt had pointed out, there must be someone out there offering this very service, and once she’d found them she’d move mountains to make sure they paid her aunt and the other residents a much-needed visit.

There was nothing. Not. A. Darned. Thing. At least, not anything within reasonable travelling distance. Crossly, Seren slammed the top of the ancient laptop shut and slumped back in her chair.

‘What’s up, pumpkin?’ Her dad was watching the news and shaking his head – Seren wasn’t sure whether it was in disgust or despair. ‘Look at that – some blighter has hung severed heads from the oak tree in the park.’

Seren sat up, horrified. ‘Real ones?’

The camera zoomed in on the heads, and she was relieved to see they had once been part of dolls, not people. They looked awfully creepy, though.

‘Don’t be daft. Tinstone isn’t London. It’ll be for Halloween. Mark my words, as soon as that’s out of the way and all the firework nonsense is over and done with, they’ll be starting with the Christmas decorations. They’ve already got tubs of Roses and Quality Street in the supermarket.’ Her dad shook his head.

‘YoulikeChristmas,’ Seren pointed out.

‘Not in flippin’ October, I don’t.’

Seren was about to say that October only had a couple more days left in it, but she let it go. She loved Christmas at any time of the year, and if she had her way she’d keep the decorations up permanently. Maybe not the inflatable Santa in the front garden, but certainly the tree and the twinkly lights on the outside of the house, and all those lovely baubles and garlands inside. She made the garlands herself every year, and the wreath for the front door and the centrepiece for the table, using fresh fir branches, strands of ivy, and bunches of holly and mistletoe.

When she had her own place, she’d—

‘What’s up with you? You’ve got a face like a slapped wotsit.’ Her father pulled her out of her musings, chuckling loudly. Seren considered his laughter most inappropriate, considering he’d just asked her what was wrong.

‘Aunt Nelly,’ she said.

‘What’s she done now?’ he asked, rolling his eyes and huffing.

‘Nothing. It’s just that she wants to buy some gifts and she can’t get out and about to choose anything.’

Her father shot her a horrified look.

‘Don’t worry,’ she added, hastily. ‘She doesn’t want to gooutshopping. What she wants is for the shopping to come toher.’

‘Thank goodness for that. I don’t mind taking her out now and again, but when she said she needed the loo and that I’d have to go in with her to help her get out of her chair…’ He shuddered.

Seren bit her lip, trying not to laugh. ‘But you didn’t take her; I did.’

‘The thought was enough. She’s a woman. I couldn’t take her in the gents, and I certainly couldn’t go in the ladies – I’d have been arrested!’

There had been a toilet for disabled use, but it had been locked and you had to fetch a key, and Nelly had said she couldn’t hang on that long.

Nelly was her dad’s aunt. His mum (Seren’s grandma) was her sister. His mum was long gone and so were her other siblings, all seven of them. Nelly was the only one of that generation left, and Seren was thankful the old lady was still around. When she was gone, there’d only be Seren and her dad. There was her mother, of course, but she was living on the Isle of Man with her second husband and Seren only saw her a couple of times a year, so in a way she didn’t count. To Seren, her mum hadn’t counted for a long time, and since she was fourteen Seren and her dad had been a unit.

‘Can’t find anything suitable?’ he asked sympathetically, looking at the laptop. ‘How about smellies or slippers?’

‘Ugh, don’t go there. I suggested that and she shot me down in flames. She wants to have a look for herself.’

‘The home has got a computer the residents can use – let her loose on that.’

‘I mean, she wants to look at things in the flesh. And touch them. What she wants is a mobile library, but for gifts.’

‘You’re going to have to run that by me again.’ Her dad looked thoroughly perplexed, so Seren explained.

‘And there’s no one on the internet who does that?’ he confirmed when she’d finished telling him what she’d been searching for and how the mobile library had been responsible for her trawling the internet ever since she’d arrived home.

‘There are one or two, but they’re miles away, like in Scotland,’ she said.

‘That’s no good, is it? You’ll have to go back to the drawing board.’

‘I’ll have to go back and tell Aunt Nelly,’ Seren moaned. ‘She’s not going to be happy.’

‘You could always buy a few things and take them to her – you might strike lucky and there will be something she likes.’

‘Yes, I suppose… If I keep the receipts, I can always take them back for a refund. The problem is, she doesn’t know what she wants.’

‘Do any of us?’ her dad muttered, and turned the volume up on the telly, leaving Seren wishing she could do more to help her aunt.

‘There’s got to be someone local who has a mobile gift shop,’ she sighed. ‘There’s bound to be a call for it, and not just for care home residents. There must be loads of people who are confined to the house or who find it hard to get out, and who’d love a gift shop that would come to them.’

She looked at her father for confirmation, but the only response she got was another shake of her dad’s head.

Oh well, she’d done all she could – Aunt Nelly would have to make do with the internet or put up with Seren’s choice of gifts.

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