By mid-morning Cleo was wondering whether she’d have to call Kaisha in early but she’d do her best not to. She knew Kaisha had a major assignment for university to work on so she’d have to ride the busy wave and get through it.
Jemima from the wedding store on the corner came in shortly after lunch to ask if Cleo had heard anything from the new owner of the premises, but she hadn’t. Nobody had.
‘I think we can probably accept the stores will go and be replaced by something else. What are your plans?’ Cleo asked her.
Jemima, older than Cleo by at least a couple of decades, with a mix of grey and brunette curly hair, replied, ‘I’m looking at other premises, but the rents are so damn expensive.’
‘They are. I’ve looked at some stores too but this place was one of a kind, it’ll be hard to match.’
Jemima went on her way and Cleo looked out the window at the shoppers rushing by, buried beneath hats and scarves, the lights shining from the other stores all Christmassy in their splendour. She’d gone for the minimalist approach with her store this year, subtle but festive.
In the afternoon, Cleo sold two Christmas sweaters as well as the design for the Christmas pudding sweater to three people, plus the yarn they’d need. She was busy flipping through other patterns to see what she could knit next and put on display when the little bell above the door tinkled and she saw two faces she’d never expected to see.
‘Oh my God! Auntie Faith! Uncle Sid!’ She squealed and apologised to the little old lady handling the ruby worsted at the front of the store. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ She flung her arms around each of them in turn.
‘Last minute trip.’ Auntie Faith’s cheeks had the rosy glow that came with a New York winter. ‘We were so envious when Teresa told us she was coming to New York, and after Sid took her to the airport we got talking and thought why the hell not! We also heard from your dad that this might be the last Christmas for the Little Knitting Box in the West Village so we had to come and see for ourselves.’ Faith hugged her niece tight. ‘Why didn’t you say anything earlier?’
‘I didn’t want Dad to worry.’ She’d finally made the decision to call him this morning and come clean about the store’s future. She had to after blurting everything out to Teresa. Funny, she’d made the decision not to worry about anything until New Year’s, and here she was unleashing all her concerns in a short space of time, as though simply deciding not to get stressed out had been the therapy she needed to think clearly.
‘Of course he’s worried,’ said Sid. ‘But he knows you’ll make the right decision in the end.’
‘Hang on,’ Cleo said, ‘if you’re here, who’s minding your knitting store?’
‘Listen to you with your New York accent!’ Auntie Faith beamed.
Cleo laughed. ‘I guess I’ve picked it up a bit since I moved here. But really, who’s looking after it?’
‘We shut it for four whole days,’ declared Uncle Sid. He met his wife’s gaze and they were both smiling. ‘We’re going to sell up.’
‘No!’ Cleo excused herself to ring up the purchases of another customer at the till. And when she’d finished, she offered her Auntie and Uncle a cup of coffee out back while she continued her work.
‘I’m sorry I can’t leave and show you around the city.’ She handed them each a cup after confirming who wanted milk and sugar, and then peeped around the curtain to see if customers needed help, but right now the shop was quiet.
‘We don’t expect you to.’ Uncle Sid had removed his coat, and taken Faith’s too. He’d hung them on the hook next to Cleo’s red coat and cream scarf. ‘We know what retail is like, especially when you’re the owner. We just wanted to see you.’
Cleo checked the store again but the customer who’d come in had only taken a brief look at the haberdashery and then gone on their way. At almost five o’clock in the afternoon, the skies had darkened, and the stars were winking at them already. ‘It’s full on here,’ she told them both, ‘but I love it.’
‘I’m glad,’ said Auntie Faith.
‘First time I’ve been on a plane in twenty years,’ Uncle Sid told her, ‘and it’s still as cramped as ever, but the final destination is worth it, and seeing you is a bonus.’
‘Where are you staying?’
Auntie Faith giggled and stamped her feet one after the other in excited little pitter-patters. ‘The Waldorf Astoria.’
‘No way! That’s incredible! Oh excuse me, customer.’
Cleo talked through a knitting pattern with a teenager who was making a poncho, but was soon back with her auntie and uncle. ‘I can’t believe you’re staying in one of the best hotels.’
‘It’s a real treat,’ said Auntie Faith. ‘It’s only a short break so we thought we’d spoil ourselves.’
Uncle Sid opened up a plastic bag he’d been carrying and took out a tin of cookies. ‘Christmas tree shapes, your favourite as a kid when you came and stayed with us.’
‘You remembered!’ Cleo beamed.
They all helped themselves to a cookie and Auntie Faith asked, ‘What do you love the most about being here?’
Cleo looked out at the store, and for the first time since the letter had come and she’d seen the risk of losing it, she felt a pang of sadness. ‘I love everything.’
