The Christmas Bookshop(7)

Irene had lifted her hands to show she wasn’t already on the phone.

‘All right, all right.’

‘Hey!’ said Sofia, flinging open the door with her widest smile.

Carmen, for once, was almost speechless.

‘Look,’ she said. ‘Oh my God. Look at your house!’

Sofia smiled more naturally this time. She liked people loving the house as much as she did.

‘Come inside; it’s freezing,’ she said.

‘But I just want to … I mean, this is like something out of a storybook. God. Are you just, like, happy all the time?’

There was a wistful tone to Carmen’s voice, but she genuinely meant it. It was like a doll’s house come to life. She couldn’t even be jealous; it was something so lovely and far out of reach. It would be like being jealous of Amal Clooney.

Sofia smiled.

‘Come in, will you.’

The smart hallway had a cupboard for stowing away boots and coats, and Carmen started to unload, taking in the shiny parquet flooring which led to the huge opened out space of the kitchen, with glass right across the back wall, sliding out to the little square townhouse garden, which had a small football net set up on it. On the left was a door that led to a beautiful small sitting room, done out in trendy shades of black and grey. It was all gorgeous. Carmen was suddenly rather conscious of her grotty coat and mud-spattered jeans. She felt she was scruffing the place up just by being there.

‘Tea?’ she said, hoping Sofia might say, ‘Oh what the hell, let’s have wine.’ Except – durr – she was pregnant of course. Boring.

She padded on her bare feet, following Sofia into the huge kitchen, only for her sister to raise her eyebrows in a query.

Unsure what she meant, Carmen paused. Then she glanced up the beautiful stairwell, with its metal banister railings topped with wood. Standing at the top was a child in a green velvet dress with the same determined set of face as her mother. She was pretty and tidy, with shiny hair combed back down her shoulders, a ballet class posture and a direct look.

‘Oh hello … ’ Carmen scrabbled. ‘Phoebe?’

‘I’m Pippa actually. Phoebe’s still upstairs. Mummy, she should be here, shouldn’t she? It’s rude.’

Sofia nodded, as a little paper plane shot out past Pippa.

‘HI!’

‘Jack,’ said Carmen with more certainty, as he was the only boy. He was about eight, with short hair that stuck up like a brush, a round cheerful face and freckles.

‘Hihowareyou?’ Jack called, heading for the small garden out the back before it got dark with a football under one arm.

‘PHOEBE!’ shouted the larger girl in a high-pitched shriek. Carmen still wasn’t quite sure what to say as Pippa advanced down the stairs. She felt oddly judged as her niece looked her up and down.

‘You missed my first communion,’ she said accusingly. ‘It was in November. Daddy’s sister sent me this dress.’

‘Oh,’ said Carmen.

‘Pippa, darling, don’t—’

‘I’m just saying. I’m in primary six, by the way. I like dancing and horses and I don’t like K-pop so please don’t give me any K-pop things.’

‘Um, okay,’ said Carmen.

‘PHOEBE!’

‘Please don’t screech,’ said Sofia. ‘Tea?’

‘I’ll do it,’ said Carmen, conscious that Sofia had a massive bump in front of her stomach and her mother had kept reminding her that she was there to help as she wasn’t paying rent. They were still being a little stiff with each other.

‘No, no, you catch up with the children,’ said Sofia, filling the kettle. The kettle looked expensive, thought Carmen. How did you even buy an expensive kettle?

Pippa sat down.

‘My favourite show on television is Just Add Magic, but we don’t watch much television because Skylar says screen time is very bad for your eyes and also your soul.’

‘Who’s Skylar?’

‘She’s the nanny,’ said Pippa just at the same moment as Sofia said, ‘She’s someone who helps us out.’

‘Where is she?’ said Carmen.

‘Oh, she’s a student so she’s at a class now. You’ll meet her … PHOEBE!’

There was the noise of stomping on the stairs and everyone looked up.

Another version of Sofia appeared, but this one was not glossy: instead, she had messy tangled hair. She was plump, her face looked sticky, and her lower lip stuck out so she appeared to be pouting.

‘Were you asleep, darling?’ asked Sofia, looking up.

‘No,’ said Phoebe in a grumpy voice.

‘This is your aunt, Carmen.’

Phoebe regarded Carmen with an unimpressed gaze.

‘I know she doesn’t send birthday presents,’ said Pippa, ‘but you have to be nice to her. Kindness wins!’

Carmen winced. Phoebe was still staring at her. It was not a cheery look.

‘Did you bring us anything?’ said Phoebe finally.

It hadn’t occurred to Carmen. She mentally filed through the contents of her bag and remembered a packet of Kettle Chips she’d been planning on sharing with Sofia over a bottle of wine that of course Sofia couldn’t drink. Oh lord.