Jonas carried the last of the logs to the stack beside the hearth. "That should last until New Year's Eve, at the very least."
"Thank you, dear. I'm sure we'll be fine. And my grandsons will be here for Christmas, so I'll enlist them if we need more fuel." She smiled at him. "You're sure you won't stay for a cuppa? Carrying wood is thirsty work."
"I'm OK, thanks, Mrs Evans."
She shook her head. "Well, nobody can accuse me of being a bad host. I've left your money on the table at the front door."
"Much obliged." Jonas tugged his beanie over his ears and went to the entrance. "See you at the Christmas Market?" he shouted down the passage.
"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."
Jonas smiled. He pocketed his earnings and pulled the door shut behind him. He could see his breath ahead of him as he walked to his pick-up. It was just after four in the afternoon, and he could already count the first stars on the horizon.
"Hey Uncle," he said. "I wanna buy a book, Uncle." It sounded like he said "bayah buk".
"Sorry, we're closed."
"Ach, no man, Uncle man. I wanna bayah buk, man."
The girl on his arm giggled, and clutched at his pleather jacket. "Let's go, Luke."
"Nah, but I wanna book."
"Tomorrow, Luke. We'll get you a book tomorrow." She yanked his arm, and he stumbled after her.
"Ok, bye. Bye, Uncle."
"How long have you two known each other?"
She cannot help but blush and graze her knuckles against his as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. On recovering her courage, Anna looks Gem squarely in the eye and says, "I feel like I've known him my whole life."
"Of course you have. Of course you do." Gem adjusts the red frame on her nose. "That much is obvious to everyone."
There's no way to avoid it, Jocelyn thought, as she stumbled through the crowd. All around her were people with lifeless eyes in pursuit of something. Was it happiness? A way out? She couldn't tell. But she knew that if she was to survive the ordeal, she'd have to leave soon. Except there was one more thing on her list that she needed: a gift for Mr D. She closed her eyes and steeled herself as her body and bag was jostled by passers-by, seemingly on similar, perhaps more important, missions.
