Harry unlocked the door, nipped inside, and armed the alarm. Coming back out again, he turned to George. “Anything else before I lock up?”
George smirked. “Can’t think of anything.”
Harry turned the key, pulled down the shutters, and locked them, too. As they walked through the shopping precinct, Harry felt some moisture land on his head. “You sure you don’t want to put the visor down? Feels like rain.”
“It’s snow.”
Harry looked up. “A white Christmas.” How special was that? He began to hum the famous song.
“You going to sing it?”
Harry laughed. “If I did, I’d clear the street.” And given it was Christmas Eve and in the middle of the town, there were a fair few people about, many of them were regarding George with curiosity. “However, I could recite a poem that’s not inappropriate for this situation.”
“Oh?”
“‘Twas, or rather ‘Tis the night before Christmas.”
George groaned. “Wondered how long it’d take you to think of that.”