If she’d repositioned the delivery time, or set the welcome somewhere else, or insisted on a double line of fencing?—
“Are you… revising the schedule?” Julia asked, watching her scribble.
“I’m upgrading the risk assessment,” Vic said. “Reindeer: higher threat level than anticipated. Must increase barriers. And signage. And maybe helmets.”
“For whom?” Erin asked. “The reindeer or the children?”
“Everyone,” Vic said. “No one is allowed within twenty feet of anything hoofed without a briefing.”
Alex smiled. “You do realise this was a freak incident?” she said. “Animals get skittish. That doesn’t mean the whole plan is doomed.”
“Freak incidents are my brand now,” Vic said. “And if there is one more freak incident, my schedule will implode and it will take Christmas down with it.”
“You’re catastrophising again,” Julia said gently.
“I am proactively catastrophising,” Vic said. “It’s different.”
“How,” Julia asked.
“One is panicking,” Vic said. “The other is panicking with bullet points.”
Erin snorted. “There she is,” she murmured. Erin took Alex in her arms and held her close.
Vic ignored them all and wrote, in unnecessarily capital letters:
NO UNSCHEDULED AFFECTION DURING OPERATION HOURS.
She underlined it.
Twice.
Alex, reading upside down, choked. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What?”
Vic felt heat climb her neck. “Look,” she said defensively. “We have had two near-misses today that could have been avoided if people—” she shot Erin a look “—had been paying full attention to their surroundings instead of trying to sneak kisses in draughty corridors.”
Erin’s mouth fell open. “You think the power cut was caused by my sex life?”
“I’m saying,” Vic said, “that we don’t have the bandwidth for spontaneous anything right now. We are operating on a razor-thin margin of control. If people start getting distracted, chaos wins.”
“You want to ban kissing?” Alex asked, incredulous and amused.
“Temporarily,” Vic said. “During scheduled operation hours. There can be… designated affection windows. It’s all in the appendix.”
“There’s an appendix?” Julia murmured.
“There’s always an appendix,” Vic said.
Matilda tugged on Alex’s cloak. “What’s affection?” she asked.
“It’s cuddles,” Alex said. “And kisses. And nice words. And sometimes hand-holding.”
“Why is Vic banning cuddles?” Frank demanded, outraged.
“I am not banning cuddles for children,” Vic said quickly. “Child cuddles are exempt. This is an adults-only restriction.”
“I’m not sure that makes it better,” Julia said.
Hyzenthlay considered. “Is this about you wanting everything to be perfect?” she asked.
