Page 43 of The Perfect Blend
“She was dog walking and fell down a pothole. She twisted her ankle and got a concussion. I think she’s only just got out of A&E now.”
“Oh, poor Leanne. Is she okay?”
“She says she’s alright. But the worst of it is, it wasn’t even her sodding dog! They are dog sitting someone else's Schnauzer.”
I bit back a burst of laughter. “Dangerous business dog sitting, I’m grateful you agree to take part in such risky business for Beanie.”
“As you should be,” she said with a sniff.
The train rolled into the station, and we headed out towards the markets. Most of the revellers were heading to the bars not the shops, but the city centre was still heaving with people making their last minute Christmas purchases. The atmosphere became even more Christmassy as we approached the market area. Like every year, the traders came from across the country and Europe to sell their wares in cute wooden ski chalet style stalls. Christmassy lighting was everywhere, and I knew somewhere in the mass of stalls was a giant lit up German Christmas Pyramid on top of a hut. I’d seen it all over the socials.
The atmosphere was buzzing, but a bit too busy and pricey for my tastes - of course I preferred my own market last night. I kept that, and my ire at the price of mulled wine and hot dogs, to myself though, as Sharon and I queued for food. The streets were packed, but through a fleeting gap in the crowds I could have sworn I saw Zach. Which was impossible, as he had said he was heading back down south today to spend Chhristmas at his sisters, so it couldn’t be him. I frowned in that direction, trying to catch a glimpse of the Zach look-alike.
“Robin!”
“Hm?”
“For the third time, do you want onions on your hot dog?” asked Sharon with exasperation.
“Oh sorry, yes please.”
The bratwurst lady smiled at me and turned to the huge circular double decker grill hanging in the centre to pick up my sausage. I loved those grills, you never saw them anywhere else but at the German markets. Shortly we had our sausages in hand, had paid, and moved to the side to where the condiments were. There was nowhere to stand, so we decided to multitask and eat in the queue for mulled wine.
We’d polished off the bratwurst by the time we came to order the wine, and were soon feeling warm and full and festive.
“It might have been expensive,” I said. “But that was very tasty.”
“Mmmhm. There’s a reason I come every year, you know. Right let’s get looking for a present for Mum,” said Sharon. “We’re looking for something obnoxiously Christmassy.”
Aunty Eileen adored Christmas even more than my Mum had. Whilst we used to visit the Spencer's up at the farm for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day was always at Aunt Eileen and Uncle Berts. They always decked their house out to the max, every possible way the house could be Christmassfied, it was. Sharon said it was like living in the Christmas section at the garden centre for a month and a half. Aunty Eileen held a special love for Christmas decorations, the more over the top, the better.
We set off in search, walking through rows and rows of stalls to find the perfect gift. Finally we came to the stall next to the giant German Christmas Pyramid -Weihnachtspyramide,in German, according to the stall sign. The tower of columns, figures, lights and the lit up windmill arms at the top loomed over us, full of festive cheer. Fittingly, the stall it loomed over sold the regular sized versions of the Christmas pyramids.
“Has your mum got one of these?” I asked.
“You know what, I don’t think she has!” Sharon’s eyes lit up. “It would be perfect, she might just cry. Oh look at that one!” she pointed to one at the back which had eschewed the traditional wood tones for glitter and colour. Once the heat of the candles got the little fan at the top moving, it would be an elaborate disco ball. It would be the star of Aunty Eileen’s over the top Christmas house.
“You’re right, she’ll definitely cry. Has she got the right size candles? You might want to get some because you know she’ll want to light it right away.”
“Good point.” Sharon spoke to the stall owner, and I turned to people watch as she made her purchase. Again, through a gap in the crowds, I thought I spotted Zach. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to keep him in my eyeline, but it was really difficult. I couldn’t go take a look at this doppelganger and satiate my curiosity, if I left Sharon we’d be hard pressed to find each other again without a stressful phone call. I could imagine it now.
‘No, I’m by the tree decoration stall with the blue sign, not the one with the green sign!’
I better stay here.
“Why are you prancing around like you’ve got ants in your pants?” asked Sharon, now holding a big bag with her mum's present inside.
“It's the strangest thing,” I said, eyes on the crowd. “I swear I’ve seen Zach a few times this evening, but he’s meant to be on a train down south. I’m dying to see his doppelganger.”
“Oh?” said Sharon, and I cringed at the suspicious tone in her voice. “Well let's go see if it's him then. Where did you see him last?”
“Well that way, but Sharon it's not him, it's just someone who looks like him.”
“Mmmhmm,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading me into the crowds in the direction I’d pointed to. “Let's go see anyway.”
I rolled my eyes but went easily, I really was keen to see this guy just so I could tell Zach about it later.
We searched for five minutes before we tracked down Zach’s twin to a sweet stall.
