Growing up, Julia always wished for a little festive magic . . .
BY JACQUI COOPER
With less than a week to go until Christmas, the biggest toy shop in town was packed. Julia tapped her foot to Slade’s Merry Xmas Everybody and admired the glittering decorations as she queued at the checkout.
“What do you mean, you’ve none left?” demanded a woman at the Customer Services desk. “The local radio said you’d just had a delivery.”
“I’m sorry, madam, but they sold out almost immediately.”
Huffing, the woman turned to leave but as she did, she spotted the Rocket Man Animatronic Action Figure in Julia’s arms. Julia tightened her grip on the toy and avoided eye contact as the woman flounced past.
She, too, had heard the radio announcement and after calling work to say she would be late, had raced straight to the store, getting here just in time.
However, Julia could sympathise with anyone who hadn’t been so lucky. Rocket Man was this year’s must-have toy and she’d been chasing it for months. Thankfully her persistence had paid off.
She paid for the figure, and also the equally popular Maisie Mae baby doll which chuckled adorably when she was picked up. Then she carried her purchases to the car.
Julia owned a small company which produced luxury Christmas cakes and puddings. Contrary to what everyone believed, December was actually a quiet month for her and her team of six, with all the baking having been done much earlier and the goods delivered to the shops by early autumn. Winter months were for testing new recipes and sourcing top quality ingredients.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, breezing in. “Any problems?”
“None,” her assistant Elaine said, smiling. “Except that Carrie’s not happy with the amount of brandy in the jewelled glacé cake for next year. I’ve organised a tasting for later so you can have the final say.” “Thanks.” Julia headed for her office. “Did you get your shopping done?” Elaine called, unable to hide her curiosity.
Julia grinned.
“I did, yes – thanks.”
At her desk, she checked her phone. No messages. She placed it where she would hear it if it rang.
There was indeed too much brandy in the cake, which overpowered the citrusy notes of the glacé fruits. But they had plenty of time in which to come up with a new recipe.
As always, Julia was the last to leave. Roadworks on the way home meant a detour, but the car was warm, she had her Christmas music playing and all the festive lights to look at so she was happy.
That was, until the detour took her down Cranberry Lane.
She might have made it all the way
