Christmas at the Little Knitting Box by Helen Rolfe

Author:Helen Rolfe [Rolfe, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781804156087
Publisher: Boldwood Books

Greenwich Village

* * *

The scent of the Norway Spruce she’d had delivered last week filled her apartment, and Cleo turned up the thermostat, hoping the place would soon be cosy. She switched on the laptop and as it warmed up, turned on the Christmas tree lights and the fairy lights strung around the windows. She stood beside the tree and looked at the myriad of decorations adorning the branches, some she’d brought over from England, others she’d collected over the last four years. Her fingers reached out and touched the rich, deep green needles and she leaned in to smell the scent more deeply. It never failed to send nostalgia cascading through her: the mornings she’d woken and wondered if Father Christmas had been, the long walks they’d taken when her mother was still alive, racing back to the house and the smell of the turkey in the oven, the last few Christmases out in Connecticut with Grandpa Joe.

The tree had red and silver baubles, beads in the same colours, and an angel at the very top with a fairy light strategically placed behind her to give her an ethereal glow. On some branches were pine cones decorated in sparkly silver glitter; on one there was a Father Christmas with a sack full of presents on his back. There were woodland creatures dotted about, pretend candy canes, and everything else from snowmen and snowflakes to a hanging snow globe with her name on it that her dad and Teresa had posted out to her last year.

But there was one decoration she treasured the most and it had pride of place at the front of the tree, nestled between fairy lights and a sprig of holly and ivy tied into a neat bundle. When she was little, her mum had given her the keepsake that hung now from a branch by its original red ribbon. In cherry veneer, it had three handprints embedded into its surface: Cleo’s, her mum’s and her dad’s, all next to each other, with A Jones Family Christmas written in an arch over the top.

Cleo patted the ornament, smiled in acknowledgement of Christmases past, and went over to the laptop. She’d dimmed the lights so the tree lights and those around the window would be the main feature, but she could still see the computer as much as she needed. She was probably harming her eyesight, but right now she didn’t care. She wanted to soak up the Christmas feeling as much as she possibly could.

First task was to deal with Kaisha’s missing wages. She never usually dropped the ball on such things, but her mind had been all over the place. When that was done, she reordered the correct worsted, triple-checking the order this time. The first lot of vicuña had yet to shift in the store but it would eventually, and if not, maybe she’d treat herself and knit the most exquisite scarf she’d ever owned. She finished off by ordering some more haberdashery: vintage

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