Page 34 of Winter Nights at the Bay Bookshop
LARS
‘We didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier, Lars,’ Lily said.
I turned around and looked at her expectantly. Which conversation? We’d been talking about the weather and that’s when I’d held her hands and felt something shift between us. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I thought about it and I hoped she couldn’t see that from across the shop.
‘About Christmas,’ she said after an inordinately long silence. ‘I told you about mine. What were your Christmases like?’
Relaxing, I joined her at the counter once more.
‘For years, it’s just been Nanna and me and she favours a quiet, traditional Christmas.
It’s breakfast then gifts and I prepare the dinner while she goes to church.
We play Scrabble or cards after we’ve eaten and watch the monarch’s speech followed by a film.
Tea’s turkey sandwiches and it’s usually an early night for Nanna because she treats herself to a couple of sherries and nods off in her armchair.
Some would call it boring but I enjoy it.
Christmas Day was the only day of the year My Study Hub provided no technical support so, for me, it was a welcome chance to switch off for twenty-four hours. ’
‘I can imagine. What about when you were a child?’
‘Completely different. Well, until we lost Pia, that is.’ My voice caught and I hoped Lily hadn’t noticed as I didn’t want her to feel as though she’d asked a difficult question, so I gave her a warm smile.
Childhood Christmases were about the only positive family memories I had.
‘We celebrated a blend of the two cultures so we had the British advent calendar, stockings out for Father Christmas on Christmas Eve and a traditional roast turkey dinner on Christmas Day. Icelanders celebrate the season of Jól which is Christmas but it’s more like our yule from the olden days.
It starts on 12 December when the first of the thirteen Yule Lads arrives… ’
As the shop was quiet once more, I explained to Lily that the Yule Lads were trolls who spent most of the year living in the dark castles in the mountains with a big black cat and their parents – a nasty old troll woman called Gryla and her third husband Leppalúei.
For thirteen days in a row the brothers, known as the jólasveinar , took turns coming down the mountains to create mischief.
Each brother had a name which indicated the type of mischief they liked to get up to – most of it somewhat random like licking spoons or stealing sausages.
I’d only ever talked about the Yule Lads to members of my family so began my explanation a little hesitantly but I was spurred on by Lily’s obvious interest and encouraging smiles.
‘Children leave a shoe out on the windowsill in the hope of the Yule Lads leaving gifts, just like our tradition of leaving out a stocking on Christmas Eve. And in the same way a naughty child here might get a piece of coal, a naughty child in Iceland might find their shoe contains a potato – perhaps even a rotten one.’
I laughed as Lily wrinkled her nose.
‘My pabbi told us that, when they checked their shoes one morning, his younger brother had some sweets but Pabbi had been naughty and there really was a potato in his – a manky one with shoots springing off it. Pabbi was mortified and, of course, his brother dined out on that one for years. I believe it still gets mentioned to this day, and not just at Christmas.’
‘My brother and sister would do the same,’ Lily said, smiling. ‘I’m loving the sound of the Yule Lads. So this happens for thirteen consecutive nights?’
‘Yes. It’s a different troll each night.
The gifts are mainly sweets and small toys but occasionally something bigger gets left.
Like all traditions, each family will have a slightly different take on it.
And each family will also decide on the version they share with their kids because there’s a less family-friendly variation where Gryla also comes down with her big stick, packs misbehaving children into her gigantic sack and cooks them in her favourite stew. ’
‘Oh, gross!’
‘Yep! And apparently she has an insatiable appetite but that’s okay because there are plenty of naughty kids around for her to eat.
The cat – Jólakotturinn or Christmas Cat – also has a penchant for eating children but, if you’ve had some new clothes or shoes before Christmas Eve, you’re safe from being his dinner. ’
‘How have I never heard about this before?’ Lily’s eyes were shining, conveying her excitement. ‘It’s storytelling genius. So what?—’
But she didn’t get to finish her question as the door opened and Mr Bryant arrived for his Poirot books.
I moved out of their way and adjusted a few book stacks while Lily chatted to him about the most recent cosy crime book he’d read and what he thought of it.
As soon as he left, Lily called me back to the till.
‘I have to know more. If the trolls put gifts in the shoes but Icelanders don’t put stockings out for Santa on Christmas Eve, what happens on Christmas Day? Do children get presents then or not?’
‘No. They get them on Christmas Eve instead which is also Jólabókaflóe – the Christmas book flood.’
‘I’ve heard of that. We’ve included it as a fun fact in the Christmas newsletter before. You exchange books, right?’
I nodded. ‘It’s a big thing, dating back to World War II when Iceland was occupied. Very little got imported so domestic books were pretty much the only Christmas gifts available and, with books and reading being such a strong part of the Icelandic culture, it stuck.’
Lily looked thoughtful. ‘We’ve never done anything to celebrate Jólabókaflóe in the shop but, with you being half-Icelandic, it would be lovely to do some sort of promotion or celebration of it this year. Any idea what we could do?’
‘That would be amazing. Can I have a think and come back to you?’
‘Of course.’ She glanced at her watch and grimaced. ‘I’d love to hear more about what an Icelandic Christmas Eve and Christmas Day look like but it’s almost closing time. Another day?’
‘I could chat for ages about it so just shout when you want the next instalment.’
Fifteen minutes later, we were locked up and finished for the day. Lily walked me to the front door and asked whether I’d be spending Christmas with Nanna now that she’d moved into Bay View.
‘I don’t actually know. She hasn’t mentioned Christmas, which isn’t like her, and that makes me think she probably wants to spend it with her friends but doesn’t like to say because it means I’ll be on my own. I’ll have to ask her next time I see her.’
‘If she does want to be with her friends, don’t even think about being on your own. We can always make space for an extra body, assuming you can cope with eleven of us.’
Her tone had been jovial but her smile faded as she added in a softer voice, ‘I’ve never felt so lonely as that Christmas Day when Justin let me down and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.’
We stood by the door, holding eye contact, and I could feel a crackle of something in the air between us. My throat felt very dry as I pushed back the urge to hold her tightly and tell her I’d make sure she never felt lonely again because, if she’d have me, I’d be by her side forever.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. I was usually hopeless at spotting signals but even I couldn’t miss that Lily felt something too. If only I wasn’t so hopeless at all this stuff.
Someone shouting on the street outside made us both jump and Lily turned the key. ‘I’d better let you escape.’
I didn’t want to escape . I wanted to stay with her but, being me, I didn’t share that. A cold blast hit me as the door opened.
‘I really do want to hear more about Christmas in Iceland,’ Lily said. ‘It’s fascinating.’
‘Happy to share everything I know.’
Conscious I’d already lingered in the doorway far too long, I stepped onto the cobbles.
‘Don’t let Gryla and the Christmas Cat gobble you up,’ I said and, for reasons I’ll never comprehend, I saluted her. I actually raised my hand to my forehead and saluted. Kill me now!
My cheeks burned as I hurried along the cobbles, desperate to get away before I made myself look any more of an idiot.
The salute had been embarrassing enough but what had I said to Lily?
Don’t let Gryla and the Christmas Cat gobble you up.
Argh! She wasn’t a naughty child, we weren’t in Iceland and there was still over a month to go until the start of Jól.
Today had been filled with special moments that I wanted to remember but I could guarantee that the scene which would forever play on a loop in my head would be that excruciating final minute. I could do with Gryla and the Christmas Cat gobbling me up to end my humiliation.