Page 9 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

I fiddled with one of the forks I’d laid out. ‘Do you want to get away from Craig Brae for Christmas? Have a change of scene?’

I suppressed a bolt of worry. Lord knows whether I would have another job by then, but even if I didn’t, if Mum wanted to get away from everything for a few days, I’d find the money to go with her from somewhere.

Mum frowned. ‘What? You mean go somewhere else for Christmas?’

I almost laughed at her expression. ‘Yes. A lot of people do it. We could go to a hotel for a few days if you like, or rent a cottage.’

I fetched two water glasses from a cupboard. ‘It would be a change of scene for both of us over Christmas.’

Mum looked doubtful.

‘If we booked a hotel somewhere with a spa, we could be pampered and get a massage and manicure.’

Mum faffed around at the sink. ‘That’s a lovely idea darling, but I really would rather stay at home for Christmas, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t feel as close to your dad, if I was sitting in some hotel bar.’ Her sorrowful eyes swept the kitchen. ‘At least if I’m here at Christmas, I’ll still feel like a part of him is with me.’

I was determined not to cry. I sunk my teeth into bottom lip. ‘I understand. Whatever you want to do, we will do.’

No matter what, Mum and I would be here for one another. I knew that much.

* * *

The end of the week marched on to greet me.

Even though it was only the second week of November, Christmas was on the horizon. The supermarket shelves were brimming with selection boxes and glitter-strewn greetings cards.

Telling Orla about Christmas Crackers earlier in the week had been horrendous. As soon as I’d asked her to join me in the office, she had noticed Mum and me exchanging sorrowful glances.

Orla had tried to remain stoic about the whole thing, but Mum had overheard her crying in the stock room a short while later.

I so wanted to rip the heartless landlord’s face off and I didn’t care that those were NOT the sort of feelings you were supposed to be harbouring for a fellow human being at this time of year.

Local events were starting to appear in calendars and the local council had pinned up posters, advertising the Craig Brae Grand Christmas Lights Switch-on for two weeks’ time. Excitement amongst the local school children was building at the news that this year, Santa’s sleigh would be pulled by four real reindeer.

Christmas Crackers trade was brisk, and Vivian, Mum, Orla and I did what we could to remain cheerful. Having to act professionally and courteously in front of customers was zapping our energy but we knew we had no choice.

We hadn’t informed our customers and the wider locals that Christmas Crackers was closing down and that was something we were dreading. I mulled over how and what to tell our loyal customers. This would have to be done much sooner than later. We couldn’t keep delaying the inevitable.

So, in between the flurry of customers, keen to begin restocking our Christmas garlands and ornate door wreaths, I drew up a to-do list. The business would soon be no more and sitting here on our hands wouldn’t achieve anything.

When one o’clock arrived, I closed the shop for a bit.

I had decided in the end to compile a general notice to put up in the shop window and on the door, and I would also upload it onto the Christmas Crackers social media accounts.

It would save us all from having to tell everyone directly.

I blew out a cloud of air. I suspected that the gossip grapevine wouldn’t be long in sharing the horrible news.

Fury charged through me again. We were stuck in this awful, gut-wrenching situation.

Vivian was struggling to make many decisions after everything, so I instructed Mum and Orla to sell off what stock we could. I also suggested we put everything on discount. Buy one holly wreath, get one half price; two slivers of tinsel for three pounds. It was up to me to deal with things the best way I could.

For the remainder of that Friday afternoon, business was very brisk, which struck me as ironic, seeing as we would be closing down in a matter of weeks.

Once the end of the day swung around, I suggested to Mum and Orla that they head home and that I would close up. Vivian was up to her eyes with sorting out her house, prior to it going on the market, as well as trying to pack what she wanted to take with her when she emigrated to the States.

I retreated into the office. I was more than happy to deal with everything else. I suppose I wanted to spend as much time here as I could and make the most of it, before the shop disappeared.

I lowered the volume of the Christmas music still pumping from the speakers and was discomfited to realise it was annoying me. A sarcastic smile played on my lips. Good God. I almost sounded like my ex-boyfriend then.