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Noémi looked at her own shop sign – Adventures in Books. And then back at his, as though her eyes might be deceiving her. She shook her head. Opened and closed her eyes. Pinched herself on the arm. But no. The sign was still there, like a big flashing announcement that her own promise was laughable. (And yes, his sign was literally flashing. She’d have words with his landlord, because this was the Cotswolds, not Las Vegas.)

He’d called his shop Real-Life Adventures – complete with a tagline, in case she hadn’t quite got the hint. The Best You Can Get.

The audacity. Well, she would see about that.

Noémi’s updated Save Our Bookshop (SOB) List:

Book club IS ON. (Arrange a planning meeting for this Saturday.)

Selling books online IS ON. (Could smelly badgers be a USP?)

Best ever book boxes ARE ON. (No weird clay penises.)

Proving that books are THE BEST adventure IS ON.

Elf-like weird neighbour, WATCH OUT.

Chapter 8

24 days until Christmas

By the time Tuesday morning arrived, the bookshop – and Noémi – seemed like they’d both been dunked in a bucket of reindeer rocket fuel. It was officially the first of December, and it was all systems go with Christmas bells on – because she was not going to lose her livelihood to an elf offering better adventures than the ones you could find in books.

Noémi had been up at the crack of dawn shovelling the last of the leftover snow from outside the front of her shop to make way for all the new customers that would surely soon be arriving. She’d been up on a ladder, polishing her sign, cleaning her old-fashioned casement windows, so people could see in, and shining up the dark blue paintwork to look even more enticing. All the while she had tried not to scowl at next door’s shop sign – though she couldn’t help running through all the things she might say to its silly-outfit-wearing creator, when she finally got her hands on him. Not that she wanted to touch him or his lurid polyester hosiery. But he’d better hope he had his pointy-eared hard hat at the ready.

While she’d been outside, she noticed the mystery blackboard artist had been up to their antics. Her A-board now read:

Books vs. Life.

Trouble and Strife!

Choose Your Adventure.

(Take Your Hard Hat. Run for Cover!)

She looked out the window and huffed. So now the secret scribbler thought they were a poet and slightly dodgy comedian too. Or perhaps it was her new neighbour, having yet another laugh at her expense. Noémi hadn’t washed it off, because perhaps it summed things up. It was game on.

By the time Daniel and Felix arrived for work she had three of Chai’s maple gingerbread lattes lined up on the shop’s counter. Chai had said their new neighbour had zipped by on his mountain bike, asking if the van sold protein shakes or green smoothies. If having spinach in your morning drink was his kind of adventure, she would beat him hands down.

Right then, Brenda Lee was singing ‘Rocking Around the Christmas Tree’ and Noémi was dragging out old boxes from the storeroom like a red-faced woman on a mission.

‘Everything OK?’ Daniel asked cautiously as he shook his coat off and edged his way around the cardboard box Jenga tower.

‘More than OK,’ Noémi chirruped, straightening herself and rearranging her hair bun pencils. ‘I’m rising to the challenge. Becoming the shop owner that I need to be.’ She punctuated her words with a bit of shadow boxing, even though violence against elves was not the answer.

She’d asked Fantasy Man for advice the evening before. He’d said something swoony about trees not needing to compete because there was enough sunlight for everyone. It was a lovely sentiment though he’d obviously never experienced a direct attack by a man in striped legwear.

‘Good for you,’ said Felix, making his way to the coffees. ‘Though, who are we fighting?’ He nodded towards her left hook, which was so energetic that it nearly took out the Christmas tree.

‘The new tenant at the shop next door has declared battle,’ she replied, wondering if she should be more Nancy and fashion herself a bow and arrow.

Daniel did a double-take. ‘Wait. You’ve spoken to him?’

‘Well, no.’ Noémi waved a hand. ‘But his shop sign is clear. He must have taken one look at ours and decided that Real-Life Adventures would trump bookish ones.’

‘Do you even know what he’s selling?’ asked Daniel, joining Felix by the counter.

He should be setting up the till and working through his list of morning tasks. But she was a fair captain, and this was no time to grumble at her crew.