As it turns out, it wasn’t half bad, so long as I stuck with Jess and Hope who I met and instantly clicked with during the induction day. And though I was done with any notion of wanting to write superhero comics, I still loved creative writing and aced English in the end.
‘I love my job and I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else,’ I say as Hope walks into the living room. My mouth goes dry as the words leave my lips, but it’s not entirely untrue. Like I said before, I do like my job; I mean I love my boss. Sure, it’s not my dream job but then who actually worked their dream job? A vision of Devon in a white cape flashes across my mind as I hang up my coat.
‘Hey, Eddie,’ I hear Hope gush from the living room, which snaps me out of my thoughts. ‘I hear you have an appointment on Wednesday. I didn’t know goldfish got check-ups. I think it might be Scarlett who needs one, Ed.’
‘I heard that,’ I say, bringing in the treats and making myself comfortable on the couch.
Hope shoots me an innocent smile. ‘There’s something going on with you. I don’t know what it is yet, but I don’t believe it’s got anything to do with outings with your goldfish. Are you lonely? Do we need to get you dating again? Or is it the magazine? I promise I’m not about to make anyone redundant. We’ve got a bit of time to pull something together – I’m sure of it,’ Hope says, grabbing a cushion and hugging it.
‘I’m not lonely. How can I be lonely when I have Ed here? And I believe in us. We can and we will save the magazine. Now, stop the doom and gloom. I’ll plate up the snacks; you grab the notebooks and turn on the Christmas lights please,’ I say before walking into the kitchen and throwing cold water on my face from the sink, still feeling a little shaken by the poster back at the bakery and with the stress of wanting to do my best for Hope.
My nerves disappear when I re-enter my living room and it’s basking in twinkling Christmas lights. It is fully festive now. Hope and Jess helped me decorate two weekends ago. We like to decorate at the end of November so that we can wake up on the first of December to Christmas lights and the first day of our chocolate Advent calendars. It’s our tradition. Each year since we moved into our houses, we spend a full festive day at Hope and Jess’s doing their house and decorating their tree and the next day we spend at mine transforming it into a cosy Christmas wonderland. My tree stands to the left of my fireplace by the small rectangular window. It’s beautiful when the snow begins to fall outside, and the gold lights bounce off the glass. My couch is covered in Christmas throws and blankets, all homemade – some I have stitched myself, others made by our town’s seamstress.
Even in the British summer my couch is littered with blankets and throws of every design and softness. Hope wraps herself up in a deep woollen navy throw with sparkling light blue snowflakes cross-stitched into it; this one I helped make at the Springhollow craft fair a few autumns ago and it remains a favourite of mine. I place the snacks and hot chocolate on the table.
‘They look so much better than the protein snacks I’ve been researching this week,’ Hope notes, reaching for a doughnut. I take a seat next to her and pick up a notebook.
‘How’s that going? And is this why you’ve been trying to figure out social media? Because the magazine is struggling? You should have told me sooner,’ I say. Like me, Hope isn’t a huge fan of technology; however, recently with work she has been trying to keep up with what is going on in the media in order to keep our magazine interesting and inform the people of Springhollow what is going on in the world around us – or at least that’s what she had told me. She and Jess do get their weekly emails for the daily gossip in the comic book world, though Hope much prefers the subscriptions and newsletters that you can get in the post, so she’s a little more knowledgeable about the internet than I am.
These little nuggets of social media have only been a small part and new addition to the magazine, but like with anything to do with her job, Hope takes it seriously. This month she has been diving headfirst into the world of media influencers. What that means I have no idea, but she wanted to add a feature for the younger generation, hoping to draw them to the magazine with things that they could relate to. Now I know why she has been taking it so seriously.
‘I made these brownies with avocados that I saw an influencer post the other day and it was a giant no-no. I do not believe avocados should ever be cooked, baked, fried or served hot,’ she says with a grimace, sticking out her tongue for good measure, then she takes a huge bite from one of Mrs Rolph’s scrumptious doughnuts. ‘Plus, I can’t bake nearly half as well as Mr and Mrs Rolph, so I think I’m going to leave that one up to them. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want to worry you with everything going on with the fair,’ she adds. I give an “Mmmm” in agreement through my own mouthful of chocolatey goodness.
Suddenly, I reach out for a napkin and grab the pen and notebook. Talking about recipes has given me an idea.
‘What if we collaborate with the baking competition? The winning recipe each week gets featured in the magazine and to enter you have to pay a pound. It adds an extra something exciting for the winner. We can ask Mr and Mrs Rolph if it’s something they would be interested in offering,’ I waffle to Hope, not having thought it through entirely but immediately thinking of the community spirit everyone shares each week. We might not raise a whole heap of money, but it would still be something. ‘And I’m putting forth my idea for the stall, right now,’ I say waving my hands in the air and crossing my toes. ‘I’m thinking a giant gingerbread-building competition and tons of cookies for everyone to decorate,’ I finish clapping my hands together.
‘I love it,’ Hope expresses, sitting up and reaching for her hot chocolate. ‘I really love it. I mean I’ll have to see what the others have come up with but you’re winning right now,’ she says with a cheeky grin.
We spend the next two hours on a sugar high from the doughnuts, gingerbread and hot chocolate, writing down, scratching out and scribbling good and bad ideas in our notebooks before Hope heads home around nine, leaving me and Eddie to sketch out a plan for the main stall. When I can focus on Christmas and avoid drawing any caped crusaders, drawing relaxes me.
3
I can’t quite believe it’s Friday. Tuesday evening saw me popping by my mum and dad’s house to stock up their fridge with the usual essentials of milk, bread and eggs with them due back from their annual Christmas holiday next week. I escaped going to the movies with Hope on Wednesday. She had told me to try and make it after Eddie’s appointment, but I genuinely lost track of time delivering some more food to my parents’ house and then I’d gotten distracted by wandering across to the park. After three laps of the gorgeous paths and winding layout, I had made myself comfy on a bench, people-watching while drawing up my final design for the stall in all its gingerbread goodness.
Hope had informed me on Wednesday morning that my idea had won for the fourth consecutive year. It gave me a little buzz and something to feel proud of. But after I’d sat in the park for a while, I realised I had completely missed the movie’s start time. Hope hadn’t been too disappointed with my excuse due to its content and the fact that she had been way too distracted by how awesome the movie was anyway to care if I was there or not.