Chapter 1 #3
‘Yes, it’s all the things you, me, and Megan have always talked about doing in London but have never actually got around to.
I’ve been a great friend, jotting them all down.
’ He lifted his list, on which every corner was doodled with little snowflakes and ribbons.
He was right, all the items on the list were things we had all planned to do but never got around to. Some from years ago.
‘Wow!’ I played with the tinsel between my fingers. ‘But, Josh,’ I said, lifting a swatch a red cloth from the table. ‘What is all this?’
He plucked back the swatch. ‘We’re still trying to find the perfect shade of red for the Harrods Santa costume.
Someone left a review last week calling the current one blood-coloured.
It’s a Christmas display, not a Quentin Tarantino set.
I won’t have my Santa described as bloody. Not today, not ever.’
‘You’re really invested in this, huh?’
‘Being in charge of the Christmas visuals for Harrods is no joke,’ he said dramatically. He tapped the list again, regaining my attention. ‘This is a big deal, okay? You could say we’ve been planning this for years and this is finally the year. We’re doing this.’
‘Hand it over.’ Megan snatched the Filofax and cleared her throat before adopting the deep, dramatic tone of a movie-trailer voice-over. ‘Evelyn – better known as Evie – Frost,’ she said, pausing for effect. ‘You have thirty days to complete this list.’
‘In between filling out my notice period,’ I reminded the two of them.
One of the reasons Pim and I were back in London over Christmas was for me to hire my replacement.
Though every time I tried to raise the subject with Pim, she waved it off, changed the topic, or insisted we’d talk about it later, as if ignoring it might make me run out of time and force me to stay.
It wouldn’t.
Thankfully, despite the stress of hiring my replacement, spending a Christmas with friends and family was a big plus.
‘Fine, but don’t ruin the moment!’ Megan dropped her voice. She scanned the list, her face lighting up. ‘I can’t believe you made a list of this!’ She was laughing as Josh took a mock bow.
Clearing her throat, Megan began reciting the list. ‘You have to – or, rather, we have to – drink mulled wine at Covent Garden.’
‘A classic.’ I leaned forward, a memory of texting Josh my desire to enjoy a quick mulled wine in Covent Garden during a stopover in London from Zürich, a stopover that never happened, due to Pim deciding to extend her stay by two weeks.
‘Visit the light installations in Carnaby Street.’
Josh made an ooh sound as Megan’s eyes twinkled with delight – that was her request. ‘Go to a Christmas carol concert. Watch the New Year’s Eve Fireworks,’ she rattled off, and I recognised more of my suggestions – all the things I had never done with friends or family and had avoided when living solo abroad.
It was hard to find a Christmas market in December in Capri or Cape Town.
‘Have a Christmas movie marathon,’ Megan continued.
‘Of course!’ Josh was a big fan; he began reciting his top choices on his hands.
‘Eat dinner in an igloo.’
‘Is that a thing?’ I asked.
‘It’s a must these days.’ Another one of Josh’s choices.
‘Go ice skating,’ Megan read on.
‘Aww, definitely.’ I had always wanted to recreate the ice-skating scene in Serendipity. ‘I can’t believe you wrote all this down.’ I hugged Josh’s arm tightly, feeling the warmth churning in my stomach.
‘It’s so romantic.’ He squeezed my arm back. ‘Ooh questions!’ Megan paused, rolling her eyes at Josh’s dramatic lightbulb moment. ‘Could we add a Christmas romance?’
I laughed so hard I might have burst my lung. ‘Who for? You – yes.’
‘No! You—’ He pushed me. ‘Please, let’s make this Christmas a Hallmark experience.’
‘I don’t think that is how that happens?’
Megan had frozen and I could see her contemplating whether to write it down or not.
‘Don’t even.’ I raised a finger in warning, and she resisted the temptation.
‘Maybe we need to visit a Christmas Tree Farm or find a run-down country pub,’ Josh continued, enjoying plotting my make-believe romance.
‘Darling, no.’ I gently grabbed his chin and began shaking his head for him.
‘Where would we find a Christmas Tree Farm in Britain?’ Megan added as if this solved the suggestion, and not my glaringly dry dating life.
It had been a while since I had even opened a dating app.
I was pretty sure the ones I used to use had gone out of business or were just full of incels by now.
Leslie Jones was right, we just need one dating app called What’s Left and be done with it.
Dating, for me, was more of a diversion than a pursuit for anything lasting.
A way to pass time in strange cities or to find some semblance of company in the loneliness of hotel rooms. Half the time the guys I dated wanted to move swiftly on to sex or commitment, and those were two things I had little to no interest in.