‘Miss Scarlett, can I do a biscuit please?’ I recognise the girl to be the daughter of Mrs May from the sweet shop. I know Mrs May will be busy getting her stall ready and I’m pleased ours is just about done. I have a few signs to pop up around the decorating table, but I can do that while Penny is decorating; she shouldn’t be a problem.
‘Of course, Pen, let me get a spot for you. What would you like to decorate?’ I ask, unfolding a chair for her to sit on and retrieving one of the paper plates I brought with me. They’re Christmas ones with little snowmen and Christmas trees on them.
‘A Christmas tree, please,’ she replies her eyes growing wide when she gets closer to the table and sees all the yummy sprinkles. I pop a tree on her plate and encourage her to help herself and to have fun before turning to Devon.
‘I’ll be busy on here for a little while, but you go and explore. You’re under strict instruction to enjoy every morsel of this festive gathering. By time you come back you should be stuffed to the brim and nearly Christmassed out, though save the mulled wine for me and I can maybe join you later if Hope and I can get a short break each,’ I say wagging my finger at him, grinning from ear to ear, Christmas joy well and truly weaving its way through my veins now.
‘Excuse me.’ Devon and I both turn to Penny who is looking at us both through puppy-dog eyes. ‘Can superheroes decorate cookies for Santa too?’ Without missing a beat Devon’s already animated nature becomes extra enthusiastic but with a more soft and gentle approach, when he takes a seat next to her exclaiming, ‘They absolutely can.’
‘You’re a superhero. I saw you on my TV,’ I hear Penny say, leaning in a little closer to Devon and speaking in a hushed whisper. I think my heart just melted quicker than an ice lolly on a scorching sunny day.
‘He’s cute with kids,’ Hope says coming up behind me and making me jump. I hastily turn my attention away from Penny and Devon and pat down my coat, freeing it of falling snowflakes as the wind blows a small flurry under our canopy.
‘Yeah, well he’s a superhero; all kids love superheroes,’ I remind her. It’s not hard to win over kids when you have a plastic action figure made of you, I find myself thinking, trying to weigh down the butterflies that are attempting to flutter around in my belly at the sight of him decorating cookies with Penny.
‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Hope says, shoving me in my bicep. ‘Right, come on, get your signs up and help me with the banner and let’s get to work,’ she finishes with a smirk.
*
Where once lay an array of naked and plain gingerbread trees, houses and people, there is now a multi-coloured, sparkling, sprinkle-covered table of unique festive masterpieces that I can’t stop smiling at. I need to gather them up and clingfilm them now that most of them have set and move them to the back of our booth ready for the kids to pick up on their way home, so I can make room for the afternoon’s customers.
I’ve been overseeing the decorating table and encouraging the children and adults alike to add their famous scribbles or artwork to the communal gingerbread house. It looks positively enchanting with everyone’s different ideas. One side looks like a fairy garden with butterflies, wings and tiny flowers creeping up the side and lining the bottom edge. Another side, one of the adults drew Santa climbing up the house to get to the chimney and it looks fantastic. At the front door, one of the older children decided they were going to draw a dog; they wanted the inhabitants to own a dog. It was the cutest thing. And the roof is crammed with so many jelly tots, dolly mixtures and chocolate buttons, I’m not sure Santa would be able to find the chimney. It’s glorious. It’s up to the afternoon fair-goers to finish off the last side of the house and maybe decorate the small path that I made up on the tray. I can’t wait to see what they come up with. Even my dad added his penmanship, drawing a tinsel-covered scaffolding on one side.
I’m moving the last few plates when one of them catches my eye. It’s two gingerbread people and their outfits make my eyes blink fast and furiously and immediately an image of mine and Devon’s book springs into my mind. One gingerbread is wearing a pink all-in-one spandex-like attire. Emblazoned on the chest is a bright yellow star surrounded by lots of smaller stars. She has white wrist cuffs that match a pair of white boots; they have extra sparkle added to them with silver balls and edible glitter and a pink glittery headband is in its black hair. The other wears a red all-in-one, a lightning bolt taking centre stage, a little less glitter but a few extra stars around the lightning bolt. I think back to our book and our drawings. I had made Devon have some stars on his costume too when we were little.
‘It’s me and you.’ Devon’s whisper tickles my ear as he comes up beside me.
‘I know,’ I instantly whisper back. ‘You remembered our superhero costumes,’ I say, taking my eyes off the gingerbread Devon so I can look at the real Devon.
‘Of course.’ He smiles, hands tapping his pockets, looking a little nervous. ‘I think we make for cute gingerbread people,’ he adds, making me laugh. I look back to his designs again and my eyes narrow in thought.
‘D, your childhood dream costume doesn’t look that different to your current real-life movie superhero costume,’ I note, mouth open and looking back at him to see his nose crinkle, his eyes crease and all his pearly whites on show.
‘I know, right?’ he says excitement all over his features.
‘Oh, my goodness, aren’t they adorable.’ Upon hearing the fake shrill voice, I turn my head away from Devon to see Ruby standing next to him, her arm weaving its way through his. Devon’s cheeks burn bright red as he gives me a look I can’t quite read before giving Ruby a sort of half-smile.
‘The children do such a great job with these little craft things and messy kids play. Come on, I’ll show you what the adults get up to for fun,’ Ruby says, gripping Devon’s arm tighter. I want to tell her that Devon loves messy play then realise it was twelve-year-old Devon who loved getting messy and the words don’t make it out of my mouth. I take a step back. Devon opens his mouth to speak but I get there first.
‘Oh, yes sure. He’s all yours, Ruby. You won’t be able to move around here in a minute with all the kids enjoying themselves – arrgh, you best get away quick. Who’d want to be around that?’ I say, through a fake chuckle, flailing my arms in mock fear. I’m sure I see Devon smirk, but it’s only small before Ruby is dragging him away. He goes to speak again but Ruby cuts him off with talk of the documentary. I shrug and wave him off as cheerfully as I can muster before he looks away, getting lost in the packed afternoon crowd.
‘Have you asked him about her yet?’ Hope asks from behind me, startling me once more.
‘Jeez, would you stop doing that?’ I say, hand on my chest as I leave the kids decorating and wander over to her table where more than half of The Village Gazettes on display have gone – making me feel proud. They have been replaced by family’s entries into the gingerbread house competition. This town sure is imaginative. They all look fantastic.
‘Why so jittery today?’ she asks coyly, munching on sweets from a pick a mix bag then offering the bag to me. I retrieve a fizzy cola bottle and bite it in half.