ELLEN BERRY THE CHRISTMAS FAIRYpersonal

Suzy’s new role gets a little more than she expected…

You might think I’m crazy,” Jess says with smile, “but I’ve had an idea. Tell me if it sounds bonkers, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I say, intrigued.

“What kind of idea?”

Jess pops the last fragment of empire biscuit into her mouth. I’d wondered why she’d insisted on lunch in a cafe rather than in the staff canteen, where we usually go.

As well as being team manager at the department store where we work, she is also a good friend. I was a librarian when we first met, and Jess volunteered as a children’s storyteller. She was hugely supportive when Ken, my police officer husband, announced that he was in love with a WPC and was leaving me.

In a double blow, council cuts resulted in library closures and I’d found myself jobless too. Thank goodness for Jess, who tipped me off about a vacancy at the store.

“It’s about your job,” she says now. “I think you’ll find it fun.”

“You mean, you have a new job in mind for me?” I ask, frowning.

“Not exactly,” she replies. “At least, not for eleven months of the year. But in the run-up to Christmas…”

“You want me to be Santa?” I splutter. “Not quite,” she says, laughing. “Shall we have coffee and I’ll explain?”

And so it all comes out: the fact that Webster’s department store is struggling. With its sweeping staircases and glittering chandeliers, it’s the kind of establishment that locals think of fondly but rarely visit. And who can blame them when online shopping is so convenient?

“We need to offer something special,” Jess explains. “How do you feel about being our first ever Christmas fairy?”

“A fairy?” I exclaim. “What would that entail exactly?”

“Well, you’d be helping our customers to choose presents.”

“But isn’t that what we do already?” “Yes, but we’d take it further. Think about those all those customers we see, wandering around looking lost and panicked. Imagine if there was a special helper, who’s brimming with ideas, to guide them around the store.” She chuckles. “Let’s be honest. It’s mainly men I’m talking about…”

“You’re suggesting I swoop on these poor, hapless men?” I tease her.

“Yes – as their gift advisor,” Jess says with a smirk. “Look, I know it’s probably sexist to suggest that men are incapable of Christmas shopping. But we all know the type, don’t we?”

“Oh, yes.” I smile in recognition.

“And remember how you were at the library? You always seemed to recommend exactly the right books!” “Well, I’m not sure –” I start.

“You did, Suzy. You have a knack for knowing what people will love. Trust me – you’re the perfect Christmas fairy.”

While I’m still a little unsure, I agree to take on the new role. And so, the following Monday, two weeks before Christmas, I arrive at work and pin on my new, red, sparkly Christmas fairy badge. Happy to help! it reads, with a picture of a fairy decked out in festive red and white.

In the store’s foyer, the enormous tree shimmers with golden baubles. I do love being here in this building, and during the dark days after Ken left and the library closed, the ritual of dressing in my smart skirt and blouse – getting ready to face our customers – definitely pulled me through.

In the perfume hall, our resident pianist tinkles through Silent Night. Spotting a portly, bearded man glancing around in apparent confusion, I make my way towards him.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

So far, so normal. Webster’s staff are trained to approach customers with a welcoming smile.

“Well, I’m looking for a present, actually,” he says.

“Well, if you need any ideas, I’m here to help you choose.” I indicate my badge – thankfully, Jess didn’t insist that I wear wings. “It’s a new service in-store,” I add.

“Ah, right!” A look of relief crosses his face. “OK, well – it’s for my wife and I’d like something really special.”

“Of course. What kind of gift are you thinking about?”

“A piece of jewellery, I think,” he says. “She’s come through an illness and just got the all-clear.” His voice cracks with emotion. “I’m sorry. It’s been quite a time, you see.”

“I’m sure it has,” I say gently. “Shall

“You’re suggesting I swoop on these

poor, hapless men?” I tease her