The Canal Boat Café Christmas: Starboard Home. Cressida McLaughlin

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СКАЧАТЬ And I think they’re quite good, don’t you?’

      ‘Collecting for some charity no doubt,’ Doug added.

      Summer rolled her eyes. ‘What’s wrong with that? It’s the season of giving and goodwill, and that doesn’t just mean buying your friends and family expensive presents that they don’t really want. This,’ she said, gesturing towards the group, ‘is what Christmas is – or should be – all about.’

      She gave a triumphant smile which faded when she realized one of the elves had noticed her pointing, and was waggling her finger, beckoning her forwards, her cheeks rosy in the warmth of the pub and her fur-lined jacket.

      Summer shook her head and sipped her drink, but as the carol singers came to the end of their current song, the beckoning elf approached her. ‘Come and join us for a few,’ she said. ‘The more the merrier.’

      ‘Oh nooooo,’ Summer said, laughing nervously. ‘I can’t sing. You don’t want me.’

      ‘No discrimination here, not even for the vocally challenged. Come on, everyone knows the words to “Jingle Bells.”’

      The other elves were moving through the pub, trying to encourage other reluctant punters into the impromptu singsong. She saw the tall, bearded man behind the bar shrug his shoulders genially and lift the hatch.

      ‘Yeah, go on, Summer,’ Ryder said, giving her a wicked grin. ‘Join in.’

      ‘I’m not—’

      ‘What was that you were saying about it being the season of giving and goodwill?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You can’t be a spoilsport now.’

      ‘I can,’ she said, then realized how petulant that sounded. ‘Mason, tell them. Nobody wants to hear me sing.’

      Mason gave her a soft, quick kiss. ‘You’ll be wonderful,’ he said. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

      ‘Mason!’ she squeaked, watching as he tried not to descend into laughter. ‘You traitor.’

      ‘I’ve heard you singing in the shower,’ he said. ‘Have confidence in yourself.’

      Summer thought about folding her arms and refusing to budge, but the female elf was still standing next to their table, watching her expectantly, and she didn’t want to be the bah humbug member of the party. She sighed and hauled herself to her feet.

      ‘I’m Milly,’ the elf said.

      ‘I’m Summer. It’s … lovely to meet you. Do you do this kind of thing often?’

      Milly chuckled. ‘We’re actually part of the cast of the pantomime that’s playing in the Canal Café Theatre. The run starts tomorrow night – we’ve just had our final dress rehearsal and thought we’d come out and do a bit of publicity.’

      ‘Which pantomime are you doing?’ Summer glanced at the other elves, still encouraging members of the pub crowd to join them. She counted them – there were seven. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘So you’re not actually elves, you’re dwarves. Which one are you?’

      ‘I’m Happy, and tonight, at least, we’re a bit of a hybrid. These outfits are Christmas elves – the director would have a fit if we brought our performance costumes to the pub the night before opening.’

      ‘That’s very sensible,’ Summer said. ‘You don’t want to meet Snow White tomorrow smelling of beer.’ She grinned, and was pulled into the huddle in the middle of the pub. Milly was standing next to her on one side, and a very tall, burly man wearing a rugby shirt was on the other.

      A male elf with a loud, tenor voice, called out: ‘“Away in a Manger”. Three, two, one,’ and they launched into the first line of the carol.

      Summer felt her cheeks redden, and focused on her Converse sneakers and the floorboards beneath them. When she did glance up, she saw that her friends were grinning at her, Claire’s face pinched as she tried to hold in her laughter, Jas swaying side to side in time to the music. Ryder gave her an over-enthusiastic thumbs up, and when she caught Mason’s eye, he mouthed ‘I love you’.

      After that, Summer let herself loosen up, and once she and the group of motley Christmas elves had been through ‘Jingle Bells’, ‘Silent Night’ and a very raucous version of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ which had far too much emphasis – as always – on the “wish”, the pub was filled with enthusiastic clapping.

      Summer gave an awkward bow, and shook Milly’s hand. ‘Good luck with the pantomime.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It was lovely to sing with you, Summer.’

      ‘You too,’ she replied honestly. ‘And Merry Christmas!’

      She raced back to her table where her friends gave her an extra, embarrassingly long round of applause, and Ryder pushed a fresh drink in front of her.

      ‘Here you go, Dopey, you’ve earned it.’

      ‘Ha ha,’ Summer said dryly, accepting the drink.

      Mason put his arm around her and pulled her close. ‘You were wonderful,’ he said.

      ‘I bet you couldn’t even hear me over that guy.’ She pointed at the tall man who had been standing next to her, and who had unleashed an impressive baritone when they’d started singing. He probably led the chanting at rugby matches.

      ‘That doesn’t matter,’ Mason said. ‘You were by far my favourite Christmas elf – dwarf – whatever they were supposed to be.’

      ‘A bit of a hybrid, apparently,’ Summer said. ‘It was fun, though. And not that unexpected.’

      Mason raised a questioning eyebrow.

      Summer laughed. ‘We’re with this lot,’ she said, gesturing to Claire, Ryder and the others. ‘Nothing’s ever straightforward when they’re around.’

      That night, sleep came to her much more easily, and with her baking done and her lie-in longer, she bounced out of bed on Monday morning ready to face whatever Little Venice had to offer her.

      Unfortunately, that turned out to be Tania.

      Despite the reassurances Mason had given her, she felt a churn of anxiety when the glamorous woman walked into the café mid-morning. There was a temporary lull in custom, which meant she didn’t even have an excuse to serve her quickly and keep conversation at a minimum. It was as if she knew, Summer thought, or was controlling everyone’s behaviour, making them avoid the café at the precise moment she appeared, like a baddie in an X-Men film.

      She was wearing a fitted, caramel coat over pale jeans and tan boots, delicate gold studs in her ears offsetting her subtle, shimmery makeup. She looked like a mirage, and Summer was frozen to the spot.

      ‘Hi,’ she said, in her bold, even voice. ‘When we were talking the other night, Mason told me all about your café. I thought I’d come and sample some of the macarons. It’s very pretty,’ she added, glancing around her.

      ‘Thank you,’ Summer said. ‘Take a seat. What can I get you to drink? How many СКАЧАТЬ