Joe and Clara’s Christmas Countdown. Katey Lovell

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of the reasons he’d volunteered at the youth club in the first place was to avoid all the preparations. He’d hoped to lose himself in endless games of table tennis and conversations about which teams had a chance in the FA Cup this season. Anything, so long as it didn’t involve Christmas. Since Michelle’s death, the festive season had never been the same.

      ‘Here you go,’ said Deirdre, handing Clara a long silver key attached to a small red key fob. ‘But don’t go overboard,’ she warned. ‘Leave Santa’s grotto to the Trafford Centre.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Deirdre. You can rely on me.’

      ‘When it comes to Christmas, she doesn’t know when to stop,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You’re not an elf in disguise, are you Joe?’

      ‘Far from it.’ He was aware his voice was short – clipped – so in a vain attempt to lighten the mood he added, ‘Green’s never been my colour.’

      Clara laughed. ‘I’ll get you in the Christmas spirit soon enough. Come on, let’s get that box down. If we work fast we’ll have the whole place dressed before the kids arrive.’

      She turned on her heels, beckoning for Joe to follow on.

      Deirdre gave a little wave before saying, ‘You’d better get a move on. Christmas is a serious business to Clara. Oh, and good luck!’

      Joe smiled weakly as he followed Clara, who was enthusiastically humming ‘Jingle Bells’, all the while silently thinking he might need all the luck he could get.

      * * *

      By the time the majority of the main hall had been decorated, plastic pine needles from the artificial tree that stood proudly on the stage were coating the well-trodden parquet flooring and Joe had clumps of silver glitter clinging to the tips of his fingers. Long metallic decorations were strung from the beams overhead, reminding him of the ones his parents had had in his childhood, and thick swaths of scarlet tinsel curled around the creamy-white pillars, so they resembled barber’s poles.

      ‘Just the lights to test now,’ Clara said, crossing her fingers in front of her. ‘They should be fine, they were new last year.’ Then she frowned and added, ‘But have you got a torch feature on your phone?’

      Joe nodded. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

      ‘Good. Get it out and set up ready, just in case.’

      ‘In case what?’

      ‘In case the lights trip the electrics. That’s what happened last year. The whole place went black and I could hear Deirdre shouting but couldn’t see where she was. It was like something from a film.’

      ‘And Deirdre doesn’t like to relinquish control of anything,’ Joe smiled.

      ‘Tell me about it,’ Clara replied, unravelling the tangled wires. ‘She’s not always the easiest person to be around.’

      ‘But you like working here? I mean, I suppose you must or you’d have got a different job.’

      ‘I love it,’ she said, her eyes bright. ‘It’s the kids that make it special, but the whole place has a positive vibe that makes it so much easier to come to work. I joke about Deirdre, but she’s a friend as well as a boss. I never understand when people complain about their job, because I’ve always loved coming here. I guess I’m lucky.’

      ‘Sounds better than my job.’ Joe thought of how he’d spent the morning stock-taking. He’d had one customer, a pensioner looking for polyfilla. That had been the extent of his social contact – one customer in a four-hour shift. And although he’d like to think he’d made a difference, Joe couldn’t, hand on heart, say he had.

      ‘What’s it you do?’

      ‘I work at a hardware shop at the far end of the Northern Quarter. It’s pretty dull, most of the time.’ He shrugged his diffidence. ‘I’m only there part time these days, though. Hard to believe I used to do forty hours a week. Most of the time I was twiddling my thumbs.’

      ‘Fancied a change of scene?’ she smiled, and Joe’s stomach twisted. It was an innocent enough question, but he didn’t want to talk about the reasons behind the changes in his lifestyle.

      ‘Something like that.’

      ‘Well, there’s not much time for thumb-twiddling here,’ she warned, plugging in the lights. ‘We’ll be glad of the extra body. In the past we’ve tried to get people to help out but no one’s volunteered.’

      ‘I know what a difference this place makes to the kids,’ Joe said, ‘and I’ve got the time to give, so it makes sense to help out.’

      ‘Well, we really appreciate it. Now … the moment of truth.’

      Clara flicked the switch and the lights pinged on, the multi-coloured bulbs twinkling perfectly against the hardwood flooring.

      ‘At least they didn’t trip this year,’ Joe said.

      ‘It’s a relief,’ Clara agreed. ‘Now we need to get them around the tree before we open the door. In five minutes’ time it’ll be bedlam in here.’

      Joe pushed himself up off the floor, scooping up the string of lights. ‘Let’s get cracking, then.’

      ‘Thank you so much for helping.’ An enormous beam of gratitude took over Clara’s face. ‘Don’t you just love Christmas?’

      ‘I used to,’ he muttered under his breath.

      Clara didn’t reply and Joe was unsure whether she’d heard him or not. He suspected he’d been drowned out by strains of Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’, which was playing over the sound system.

      And although he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Clara’s enthusiasm was infectious. Joe was beginning to feel just a little bit of the festive spirit.

      * * *

      ‘Calm down,’ Deirdre warned, holding out her crutch to funnel the rush of kids spilling out of the building onto the street. ‘There’s no need to run.’

      ‘Oh, I think you’ll find there is,’ Clara replied. ‘Don’t you know that Christmas is coming?’

      ‘In three and a half weeks!’ Deirdre said in an exasperated tone.

      ‘Ah, come on. It’s the night of the lantern parade and light switch-on, they’re bound to be excited.’ Clara grinned. ‘I’m pretty excited myself.’

      ‘Really?’ Joe said. ‘I’d never have guessed you liked Christmas …’

      ‘Everyone likes Christmas, though, don’t they? Except for Mrs Scrooge over there,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘There are so many happy memories tied up with the season. It’s not only the lights and the presents and overdosing on rich foods; it reminds me of happy times with my mum and grandparents. We lived with them for a while, and they always made a big deal out of Christmas. All the rules would go out of the window for December, and no one minded. I’d laze around in new pyjamas watching films with my gran, then we’d settle down together around the open fire and play board games way past my bedtime.

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