The Christmas Spirit by Susan Buchanan Read Free Book Online Page B

planned for today without Sophie here to do the donkey
work. Meredith would never admit it to Sophie, but she depended on her - a lot.
There, Pritchards, a small engineering company in Glasgow. They would do -
repeat business. She would sweet-talk them and rearrange for next week. She sifted
through the rest of her diary and accessed Sophie’s computer for files she knew
she would need for the day’s meetings. Glancing at her watch, she saw she had
only ten minutes before her first video conference call with the US. Bloody girl!
    At Sugar and Spice Natalie was baking Christmas cakes. She
thought she’d introduce Christmas gradually. Some people didn’t like Christmas
shoved in their face until the traditional twelve days before, but others, like
herself, would happily have Christmas music playing and Christmas decorations
up all over the place from the beginning of the month. In the past Natalie had
done just that in her own home. Today she’d chosen a chocolate and cinnamon
Bundt cake and sliced it up into generous, but not off-putting slices. Already
she had formulated a list in her head of how her Christmas cakes would roll out
right up until Christmas Eve. She hoped they would be a hit with the bakery’s
clientele and was sure Mrs Williams wouldn’t mind, as long as the bakery was
making money. Natalie had also brought a holly wreath with her for the shop. As
she’d passed the garden centre on the way home the night before, she’d seen a
sign saying ‘Holly wreaths £10’ , so she had decided
that would be Sugar and Spice’s first Christmas decoration.
    The doorbell chimed and a woman came in, shaking snow off
her boots. There had been a light dusting overnight which had turned heavier
that morning. As a result, the bakery had had few customers, although it was
still early. Natalie vowed if it continued like this, her Bundt cake wouldn’t
go to waste. She would give it to the homeless, or those selling that magazine, The Big Issue .
    ‘Morning,’ the woman greeted Natalie. She seemed the hearty
type, and the fact that she had braved the weather conditions when most
wouldn’t bore testimony to that.
    ‘Good morning. What can I get you?’ Natalie asked. Jacob was
out of the bakery for a few minutes, as Natalie had asked him to go and buy
some newspapers since their delivery hadn’t arrived. Mrs Williams always
displayed the newspapers on a rack, so that patrons could pass the time reading
whilst they ate and drank their purchases.
    ‘I was wondering if I might ask a favour? We’re selling
raffle tickets for the old folks’ home and pensioners’ club. Would you be
interested in buying some?’
    ‘Sure,’ said Natalie. ‘How much are they?’
    ‘A pound each for a book of five.’
    Natalie took three pound coins from her purse and gave them
to the woman, a well-meaning sort.
    ‘Thanks ever so much. Could I impose a little more and ask
if you’d mind trying to sell them in the bakery? It would mean ever so much to
the old folks if they could have a Christmas party. There was no money in the
budget this year, hence the fundraiser.’
    ‘Sure. How many do you have? I can take fifty books of five
to start. Do you have a contact number and I’ll let you know if I need more,’
Natalie said.
    The woman, who then introduced herself as Cathy, was
delighted and readily handed over the requested number of raffle tickets. ‘That
really is marvellous. You’ve been such a help. Here’s my number.’
    Natalie took the piece of paper offered her and then said,
‘Just out of interest, what do they do at the pensioners’ club?’
    ‘Well,’ said Cathy, ‘they play dominoes, cards and bingo,
they read and do the crossword, and they have lunch there, as well as being
read to from that day’s newspaper and using the headlines as talking points.’
    ‘Hmm,’ Natalie said. ‘Do you have any leaflets on it?’
    ‘Yes, I do, somewhere.’ Cathy rooted around inside the
voluminous pockets of her Barbour