Page 26

As their music speaker unhelpfully played a melodic version of ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’, Noémi crouched to pull the parcel tape from the box. Most of it crumbled away, leaving a trail of particles which she blew into the air, whimsically wondering if it was glittering like stardust. Or perhaps she’d watched too many Christmas movies.

She peeled back the leaves of the lid, peering cautiously inside, as though something might leap out.

Ting tiiiiing.

The bell over the shop’s door sounded and they jumped back from the box.

‘You’ll never guess …’ Prisha wobbled into the shop, her attention quickly distracted by their antics. ‘Oh my, that box looks old. What’s in there?’

‘Probably nothing,’ said Noémi quickly, pushing it aside and brushing down her bookseller’s apron. Whatever was inside was still covered in tissue paper. But if it was the outfit and Prisha got her dressmaker’s eyes on a costume in need, there would be no going back. Noémi would be wearing it with knobs on, and she’d probably make a matching one for their adventurous neighbour to wear while bungee jumping.

‘Is it a secret?’ Prisha asked, in excited hushed tones. ‘Promise I won’t tell.’ She ambled over, stroking her belly.

‘No such thing as a secret on this street,’ Daniel replied, putting an arm around Prisha’s shoulders.

That much was almost true. Noémi realized that if she made a thing of not wanting to open the box, its contents would soon transform into a fabled tale. And at best it was an old dress that had been destined for the tip.

‘Let’s settle in,’ said Felix, arranging armchairs in a circle as though story time was about to unfold.

Daniel rubbed his hands with glee and threw another log on the fire. Then he shared out candy canes from the tree as they sat down, Prisha kicking off her shoes and making an ahh sound.

Couldn’t someone open a tatty old box in peace?

Noémi was only thankful they hadn’t put the kettle on and invited the whole street. She looked at the expectant eyes. ‘This might be nothing,’ she said again, pointing to the scribble on the box.

‘Nothing is not wrapped in golden tissue paper and sprinkled with Christmas magic,’ said Daniel, peering in.

‘It’s probably just dust,’ said Noémi, returning to her crouched position and rolling her eyes. She held her hands over the box, feeling not unlike a magician at the abracadabra moment, even if that was clearly nonsense.

And with gentle hands, Noémi began to peel back the layers of tissue. She heard herself gasp as she caught sight of the fabric. There were neat folds of rich, soft velvet, and as she let her fingers trail across it, she could have sworn she felt something almost electric. She pulled her hand away. When she looked up, the mouths of her audience were open and Prisha was leaning forward, beckoning her to show them.

Noémi carefully took the shoulders of the dress and stood, teasing it gently upwards. The music changed to something floaty and choral, like the moment was being serenaded by a host of ardent angels. The folds of the dress released themselves, tumbling downwards until they were in place against the front of her body. Now it was everyone else’s turn to gasp.

The dress was made of deep red velvet, the bodice looking as though it would fit snugly, and finished with delicate lace around the neckline and sleeves. Both the material and lace looked like they had once been spectacular, before moths and time had taken their toll. The skirt flowed outwards, with panels of red and green velvet. Cascading down the front of the skirt were intricately embroidered silver snowflakes, glittering with a smatter of sequins and catching the lamplight as Noémi swished.

She felt a tug of something, like history mixed with possibility. A strong sense that she wanted to step into the dress. Though parts of it were torn, perhaps where it had caught on things. Sequins were missing and lace had come unsewn. She couldn’t wear it without looking like something from Les Mis. And yet …

A gust of wind rattled the shop door, making its panes clatter and the bell tinkle. They jumped, the wisp of wind whipping around them, before promptly disappearing. Noémi blinked a few times and Daniel started making woooo noises.

‘The dress wants you to wear it,’ Prisha breathed.

‘Does it want me to strip naked in the shop, when people could see through the window?’ Noémi took a quick glance outside. No sign of Shay, thank goodness. Making light of things seemed easier than pondering the strange sensation the dress had given her. As if shabby, aged fabric could have spooky powers. ‘It’s a bit on the tatty side, and it was destined for the dustbin.’

‘Nooooo,’ said Prisha, getting to her feet and putting down her candy cane. ‘I can fix it. It would be my honour.’ She touched the soft velvet and cooed.

Exactly as Noémi had feared.

‘There’s no need,’ Noémi replied. ‘I don’t plan to wear it. And a certain person next door has the quirky costume USP tied up. I don’t want to copy.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Felix. ‘Your mother wore this decades before our neighbour arrived.’

‘Did she?’ said Prisha, her voice full of wonder. ‘Then I agree. Your mum paved the way, and this vintage lace predates Shay’s elf tights. Talking of Mr Cassidy …’

The door’s windowpanes rattled again and Noémi instinctively pulled the dress against her.

‘Top o’ the … oh.’

All heads turned to the door to see Shay walking in.