Top of the wish list
the coat – our alterations lady will make it a better fit.”
He comes down most days to check how I’m getting on. To be honest, I’m counting the days to December 24th because I can’t wait to get out of Beason’s.
The only positive thing about the job is that I’ll have money for Christmas, although Lexi has written ‘A DOG’ at the top of her present list.
One lunchtime, Sandra appears with a form for me to fill in. She sneers: “Of course you got the job. You were the only applicant.”
But she’s all gooey smiles when the manager appears. He’s balding and wears old-fashioned suits, but he has kind eyes the colour of milk
I feel nervous at the prospect of spending Christmas with strangers
chocolate. I’ve heard him talking about his wife who’s called Bella. I envy their weekends spent walking in the New Forest, stopping for lunch in country pubs.
At last it’s Christmas Eve and time to go home. Disaster strikes once again as the lift gets stuck between floors. One of the other occupants is Sandra. She’s already sucking her teeth. I try to keep calm and suggest: “Let’s sing some carols to take our minds off it.”
Three hours later, they let us out. Sandra says: “Thank you for keeping our spirits up, Trisha. Have you thought of working here full time?”
Lexi and I make it to the supermarket just before it closes. They have run out of turkey and Christmas pudding. “How about buying a chicken instead and having mince pies with rum-and-raisin ice cream for pudding?” I suggest.
“It won’t be the same,” says Lexi. “Well, hello there!” I turn to see Peter Preston clutching two bottles of tonic water. “Last minute supplies,” he explains.
Indicating my disgruntled daughter, I say: “I’m in trouble! Getting stuck in the lift made me too late to get everything we need for Christmas dinner.”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. Look, come to ours instead. It’s the least we can do.”
The next morning, Lexi says: “Do we have to go?”
“I said we would,” I reply. “And it was kind of him to ask.”
I don’t let on to Lexi that I’m not keen either. I’ve never met Bella and I feel nervous at the prospect of spending Christmas with strangers.
The Preston residence is a large detached house with a neat front garden. When I ring the doorbell a dog barks. Lexi brightens up. “They’ve got a dog!”
As Peter opens the door a golden retriever bounces out. He says: “I hope you like dogs. This is Bella.”
Ten months later I say to Lexi: “What do you want for Christmas?” She is sitting on the sofa with an arm around Bella. Next to them, Peter is drafting an advert to recruit a Father Christmas for Beason’s. I don’t think I’ll be applying for the job.