Page 67 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

The mannequin was sporting a pricey waterproof winter jacket for sale.

But like Rock Solid Ramblings HQ, before I rushed in with my festive goodies, there was not a Christmas decoration to be seen on his stall, apart from the lone Santa hat plonked on the mannequin’s head. ‘I see you’ve gone crazy with your stall decorations.’

Blake arched one black brow. ‘We can’t all be Kelly Hoppen. Or Lottie Grant.’

I grinned and glanced around. ‘How’s it going?’

Blake blushed under his beard and rubbed at the back of his neck. ‘If truth be told, not very well. I’ve been here half an hour and, in that time, I’ve had one elderly gent come up to me to ask me the time and that couple you just saw… well, I recognised him from the hiking community.’ Blake snatched up a couple of his leaflets about Rock Solid Ramblings and waggled them. ‘So no, it isn’t going great so far.’

My eyes flickered over Blake’s stall. The other stalls surrounding us were creaking under festive lights and swirls of tinsel. ‘You know what I’m about to say, don’t you?’

Blake’s eyes followed mine. ‘Jock’s Santa hat isn’t enough?’

‘Jock?’

‘My mannequin.’

‘No, I’m afraid Jock’s hat isn’t enough.’ I pointed to the competition, glistening and flashing against the snow. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but in comparison your set-up looks more like a dentist’s waiting room.’

‘Oh cheers.’

I gestured around. ‘Look, Blake, I know you aren’t a big fan of Christmas – you’ve said it often enough.’

Blake pulled a sarcastic face. ‘I think it must be about ten minutes since I mentioned that.’

‘But you aren’t doing your business any favours, surrounded by all this festive competition.’

Blake watched me start to march away. ‘Where are you going?’

I spun round. ‘To Christmas Crackers. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

Mum and Orla were bustling up and down inside the shop when I entered. ‘Just going into the storeroom to see what’s left, Mum.’

She nodded over the bobbing heads of customers. ‘Help yourself, sweetheart, although there won’t be much to choose from.’

I whipped off my gloves and raked through a couple of the half-opened boxes.

There were a few strands of the green tinsel remaining and some of the pine animal ornaments. That would do. It wouldn’t transform Blake’s market stall into a Disney palace, but it would give it a bit more colour. Anything would be an improvement!

I hurried back through the market, carrying the box of decorations I’d pulled together. Blake was leaning against his stall, looking dejected. My heart sank for him. Now wasn’t the time to ask him why he had no time for Christmas, although it was still niggling at me. It would be too intrusive in the middle of a festive market. And anyway, he was too preoccupied, trying to promote Rock Solid Ramblings.

I decided I might try and gently broach the subject another time. I had wondered again whether it was just a casual irritation with this time of year, like some other people had, but his vehement dislike of it and refusing to elaborate… well, it just made me think that there must be more to it than that.

‘Turn that frown upside down,’ I called over to him.

Blake strode up and relieved me of the box. His eyes sparkled. ‘Do you know, I think I detest that saying more than Christmas?’

‘Well, that’s a start,’ I joked. ‘I’ll have you belting out “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” and wearing Rudolph antlers in no time.’

Blake gave me a withering look. ‘Lottie, you would have to sedate me first.’ He indicated to the box and insisted he relieve me of it. It was now cradled in his sinewy arms. Lucky box. I blinked hard and threw that thought to the far corner of my mind.

‘What have you got inside here?’ he asked.

‘Take a look.’

‘Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been doing your smash and grab of advent calendars and decorations again? I loved those mince pies, but if I eat any more of them, I’ll be rolling down mountains, not climbing them.’

‘I promise I haven’t brought any more mince pies,’ I laughed.