Chương 52: Ch 30a – Memory: Presents

It is, of course, heaving. Two days before Christmas, of course it is flipping heaving. Why does she always leave it so late? She sniffs a candle and reads the label. Fails to make a connection between the floral name and the chemical scent. Grimaces. She puts it back. Reaches for a box of fruit-themed soaps. Her fingers crumple against a stranger's grasping hand.

"Sorry," Cara mumbles automatically. The woman gives her a scathing look and snatches up the last soap box. She's wearing a camel-coloured coat that looks so pristine. Either it is a new purchase, or she is the sort of woman who has at least ten winter coats to match perfectly with every outfit. Cara takes in her gold and pearl hooped earrings, the expertly applied rose-blush lipstick that matches the pink accents in her scarf. The latter, she thinks.

The woman is eyeing up Cara, no doubt observing the pilling on her shoulders where her bag has rubbed against the cheap wool, judging Cara's half-brushed hair (why spend too long when the wind will destroy her attempt at smoothed locks in seconds), and disliking her impractical thick scarf. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Sorry," Cara mumbles again, as if her reach had been an ill-timed punch. She turns to distance herself. Sounds of the crowd milling in the German-style Christmas market spill in from the street as more people surge into the shop. The shift in customers pushes her towards a display of overpriced decorative tin boxes. Chocolates it is then, she sighs, grabbing a circular tin of Belgian-something and looking for the Pay Here sign.