The 14 Days of Christmas

“Because I’m getting old and that’s what old people do. We complain.” She laughed at herself and tucked her tartan blanket over her legs.

“You’ll never be old to me,” I said. I didn’t want to think about Granny getting old. She had so much energy and spirit, she’d probably live to two hundred.

“Finally, I have an excuse to complain. Don’t spoil it for me.”

As we got to the edge of the green, Granny sighed contentedly. I paused the wheelchair so she could take in the scene: Snowsly’s Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the center; the German market stalls covered in lights circling the tree. The market was full of people, wrapped up in hats and gloves and scarfs, still smiling and laughing despite the frost in the air. The new Snowsly Christmas Market sign was lit up at the entrance to the market. Christmas music played from the speakers dotted through the market, and the scent of roasting chestnuts and hot chocolate wound its way down to us.

“Sebastian, it’s everything I hoped it would be. It’s beautiful.” She reached back and took my hand.

“It’s very pretty,” I said, squeezing back. “Festive. You should be very proud.”

“I’m proud of you. Thank you for coming. It’s meant so much to me.” Her voice faltered.

“Hey,” I said. “I don’t think the market was in any danger of being a disaster. Celia would have fixed things.”

Two weeks ago, the idea that I’d actually enjoy being in the middle of nowhere, immersed in everything Christmassy, was ridiculous. But these last two weeks had been far from the torture I’d expected. Snowsly felt like home even though I’d not been here for so long. Seeing Granny in her own surroundings made me appreciate how important this time had been. Like it or not, she was getting older. And maybe she needed me now, just like I’d needed her so many years ago. I also found I loved the space of the country—the mist in the morning and the mooing of the cows. I’d enjoyed not being in London.

“I know,” she said, releasing my hand. “We would have gotten by without you. It’s just been nice not to have to. That’s all.”

My heart squeezed in my chest and I started the wheelchair toward the green. Howard saw us and waved.

“Good to see you out and about, Ivy.” He offered to take the wheelchair from me and I let him. “Can I get you some hot chocolate?”

I glanced down the rows of stalls. In the crowds, I spotted a flash of white-blonde hair and my insides warmed. Celia was beautiful. Kind. Creative. Caring.

“Ivy!” Celia said as she approached us, red baubles apparently sewn onto her coat back and front. “It’s so good to see you up here. Have you got the Snowsly bauble?”

She tapped the box on her lap. “All ready to be placed on the tree. Better late than never, right?”

Howard handed Granny her hot chocolate and she took a sip. “Gorgeous, Howard. But I like a little brandy in mine.”

I locked eyes with Celia and she let out a laugh. “Me too, Ivy,” she said.

“Let’s go put up this bauble,” Granny said.

On our way to the tree, we stopped by a picture station featuring a seven-foot nutcracker in his green, red, and white uniform. This one and the others—a classic Frosty complete with cob pipe, and a beautifully decorated white Christmas tree—had Snowsly Christmas signs in front, so no one was in any doubt where the people in the photographs were having a wonderful time.

“Wait for me,” Keely called as she joined our group.

As we got to the base of the tree, the Christmas music faded and Jim’s voice came through the speakers. “Join us over at the tree as our own Ivy Fox hangs the ceremonial Snowsly Christmas bauble on the tree. Replica baubles are available to purchase from every stall in the market.” Then the Christmas music resumed.

“I suppose that’s my cue,” Granny said. She opened the box on her lap and pulled out the large clear snowflake, Wishing You a Very Snowsly Christmas etched into the surface.

Celia clasped her hands together. “I’m so pleased you managed to make it out. It looks beautiful, Ivy.”

“Thanks to you, Celia, my dear. You’re a very special girl.” Granny glanced at me, just to make sure I knew Celia had her seal of approval. Of course, I already knew. As much as I’d enjoyed every second of her company, I was leaving tomorrow.

Celia belonged here in Snowsly.

Granny placed the bauble on the tree. I wheeled her back a meter or so, to see how it looked.

“Beautiful,” she declared.

A piercing scream toward the Christmas shop stall took our attention. A corner of the market had been plunged into darkness. All the lights had gone out on three stalls.