The Christmas Bookshop(4)

Carmen folded her arms crossly. She really missed her little rented flat, but she was so skint. She had had some shifts here and there in coffee shops and bars, but the entire town was looking for work. Her parents being so lovely about everything wasn’t helping. She knew what they were itching to say – that she had been a clever girl, she could easily have gone to college, got a trade or an occupation. But she had been headstrong, hadn’t listened.

So she directed her frustration elsewhere.

‘Plus you guys are up there worshipping at the grandchildren altar every five minutes, dropping everything. It’s like this entire family is just the Sofia fan club. And the moment I didn’t want to be in it, it was, like, bad Carmen.’

Her mother didn’t say anything. There was some truth in what Carmen was saying: three children was a lot of parties and gifts and fuss. She wasn’t even sure Carmen knew what age they all were. But plenty of women were doting aunts. She so wanted her girls to be close. She wanted everyone to be close: that’s what family was.

‘I think she really needs you now,’ she said, not really thinking that at all.

‘She doesn’t,’ said Carmen. ‘She’s got her “amazing nanny”.’ Sofia spoke about the amazing nanny in glowing terms Carmen was sure Sofia had never used about her. ‘And Federico.’

‘He’s been away working all the time,’ said her mum. ‘She’s about to have another baby. She’s still working. Three kids is a lot, even with a nanny. And she has space. And she’s said she can help you.’



‘You are kidding, Mum!’ was what Sofia had actually said when her mother had tried again. ‘You are not going to dump the brat on me. I have three kids, plus Federico, another on the way, a huge case I can’t leave and you want me to sort out Carmen as well?’

‘Want something done, ask a busy person?’ tried her mother hopefully. ‘There’s nothing left round here, Sofia, nothing. The town is finished.’

‘I know,’ said Sofia. ‘It’s buzzing here.’

‘And your sister … I just hate to see her so sad.’

Sofia felt a twinge of guilt.

‘She won’t want to come. She thinks Edinburgh’s just full of smug old boring posh prats in red trousers.’

‘She … ’

That was exactly what Carmen thought, and had said aloud, on several occasions.

‘I just thought … ’ her mum said. ‘She pretends everything’s fine, but it isn’t really and it’s killing us. She’s not seeing anyone; she’s not got a job … I’m so worried.’

‘Why is Carmen my problem?’

‘She isn’t,’ said her mother. ‘She’s everyone’s problem. No, I don’t mean that. But I just thought … I thought she could get to know your kids.’

Sofia snorted.

‘She doesn’t even know their names!’

‘She does!’

‘She didn’t even bother with Pippa’s first communion. There was an empty space at the table at the reception.’

‘I know,’ said her mother. That had been a bad one.

‘She texted me twenty-four hours later to say “Soz.” Soz.’

‘She doesn’t know what it’s like,’ said her mother. ‘Having children. When you think about them all the time. When they are so central to you. She doesn’t get that at all.’

‘I know,’ said Sofia.

‘When you worry and worry about them and if one of them is unhappy, you would do literally anything to make it better … ’

‘You’re laying it on with a trowel, Mum!’

Sofia’s busy mind, though, was already turning.

‘I mean, was she any good at her job? Really? Or just hanging about taking the piss like she did at school?’

‘No, she was,’ said her mum. ‘Everyone got their bridal from her, back when you still did that and didn’t order it off the internet.’

‘Is she still dragging those scary men home?’

Her mother winced.

‘It’s been tough on her.’

‘Remember the poet?’

‘I do,’ said her mother. ‘The Sunday lunch where he declaimed a full sex sonnet in front of your father was quite something.’

They both laughed, then stopped because it was mean to laugh about Carmen. But sometimes she brought it on herself.

‘Ugh,’ said Sofia.

‘Ooh,’ said her mother. ‘That means you have an idea … ’

Sofia thought furiously, and finally said, ‘If she messes it up though … ’

‘She’ll be fine!’ said their mother, crossing her fingers tightly.





It was just a thought, Sofia reminded herself the following day. Not a commitment. Not a promise.

But Mr McCredie had been a client for so long, since before Sofia’s time. If – and it was a big if – Carmen was a good shop assistant, well, this could be just the thing to stave off the worst, at least until they could find a buyer. And please her mother. And maybe even make Carmen a little grateful and pleased. So.

It would be one nice piece of news to impart, hopefully, on a day when she had very little good news to impart.