Chapter 37
37
ELENA
Gary linked arms with Elena as they walked towards the Three Horseshoes. He’d brought tinsel into the office and insisted everyone make scarves out of it. He’d sent out an email last week saying wearing Christmas jumpers was a must. As he did every year, he’d ribbed Elena for her tasteful, subtly sequined choice, whilst shimmying to make the knitted snowy bobbles on his shake. Caz walked behind talking to Sophie, the intern. Behind them were Rory and Derek, followed by the rest of the team.
‘Ready to be thrashed?’ Gary said to Elena and grinned. ‘Rory may be the fun fact king, but my general knowledge is second to none – Diego’s obsessed with Trivial Pursuit, as if he’s living back in the eighties.’
She blew on her fingers, having left her gloves at home this morning. ‘How about I go on Caz’s and your team?’ she said brightly. ‘We’d just need to find two other people. I… I’d like to see how well I do without Rory answering every question. Just because we’re housemates doesn’t mean we’re joined at the hip.’
Gary pulled open the door and they went into the warm, hit by post-work banter and the aroma of hops and fried food. He gave her a sideways glance. ‘You sure?’ Elena nodded vigorously.
Gary started to sort out the logistics, but Rory went to sit down by Elena straightaway. ‘Mate… I think our team is full,’ said Gary. ‘How about you sit with Derek and…’
‘Oh. Right. Of course.’ He and his elf jumper moved more quickly than the commuters outside heading off to do Christmas shopping, panic having set in with only one week to go.
Elena still couldn’t face him. Not after the children’s book revelations and the opinion he must have of her now. He’d tried to talk about everything Morag had said on the trip back down to Manchester, but she’d changed the subject. She, Gary, Caz, Sophie and marketing assistant Sanjay made up her team. Halves of lager arrived, with vodka shots to knock back before drinking, courtesy of Gary. Elena and Rory had got up extra early to catch the train to work, so they could drink tonight. Elena swigged her shot in one and gave her first genuine smile since seeing Morag.
‘This is water.’
‘Shhh,’ said Gary. ‘We need to keep hydrated if we’re going to beat the others. I’ve looked at the categories of questions. They’ve got a festive twist. Caz is a great nature buff, you’re on literature and I’m the biggest foodie ever. Sophie, you’re a whizz when it comes to movies and celebrities, right?’
Sophie gave a thumbs up before drinking the water. She pulled a face afterwards and went up to the bar to get proper drinks for her and Sanjay, who was a self-professed expert when it came to history. Despite trying to avoid his attention, Elena laughed out loud when worldwide traveller Rory got beaten over a question on where Saint Nicholas was born. Rory confidently said Russia, having seen many statues of him there on a heli-skiing trip years ago. Sanjay duly provided the correct answer: Turkey. Rory’s strength, as well as travel and sport, was general knowledge. Yet he was no competition for Gary when it came to food – Gary knew straightaway that peacocks used to be the centrepieces in medieval festive banquets. The surprise of the evening was Derek’s celebrity knowledge. Oh, the scowl on Sophie’s face when she didn’t know which Puerto Rican singer was born on Christmas Day – Rory’s team whooped when Derek immediately wrote down the answer, later proven to be Ricky Martin. Elena’s mind didn’t return once to Morag – apart from that question about an old Christmas tradition in Scotland where single people would crack an egg into a cup on Christmas Eve, and the shape of the white would magically predict the profession of a potential romantic partner.
Each team had handed in their entries and tucked into bowls of French fries and chicken wings. Rory looked at Elena across the room. More relaxed, she gave a thumbs up. His face lit up and he sent one back. Gary gently elbowed Elena.
‘Come up to the bar with me, will you? I’ll get another round in. You can help me carry them back. We should sample those spiced clementine gin cocktails that the bar staff are making especially.’
Whilst the barman made their drinks, he nudged Elena with his elbow again. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘Pardon?’
‘You and Rory. It’s obvious you’re mad about him.’
‘ What? Me and… I don’t think so. Really, you are the one who’s mad,’ she hissed, and the barman glanced over.
‘Come on, Swan, admit it, I’m right. I’ve always had my suspicions, but these last weeks… I’ve caught you staring at him, for no good reason. You become more animated, in a fun way, when he’s around, as if you’ve binged on popping candy. It’s good to see, Elena. I think you should go for it. ’
‘And I don’t think you should drink so much.’
He opened his mouth and breathed on to her face. ‘Not guilty.’
She pretended to gag and Gary laughed.
‘But you’ve always teased about what a terrible match we’d make, and said it would be like Timothée Chalamet and Princess Anne getting together.’
‘Timothée is sexy, right?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Fancy Rory yourself, do you?’
Gary looked appalled. ‘Good God, no! All those facts, the figures, the stats… Whereas a man who rides sandworms on dunes and gives out golden tickets for a chocolate factory, that’s a different matter.’
‘Does Diego know about this crush?’ She took one of the cocktails and sipped it, keen to change the subject.
‘We allow each other one celebrity crush each,’ he said airily. ‘Diego’s is Gordon Ramsay.’ He looked at Elena and they both chuckled. ‘But I digress. Seriously, you should say something. I reckon he feels the same.’
He doesn’t. Couldn’t.
‘What’s stopping you, hmm?’
She took another sip and looked away. ‘Rory… he’s found out something embarrassing about me. For sure I’ve lost his respect.’
Gary paid the barman. He hesitated. ‘I understand. I tried to hide it, but Diego accidentally overheard me once, on the phone to the bank, after we’d only been on a few dates. I needed to get a large sum of money back. I’d been scammed for a thousand pounds.’
Elena met his gaze. ‘ How much?’
Gary sighed. ‘A photographer – or so I thought – had seen my profile on socials and wanted me to, um… model. He said he’d need the money upfront and it would guarantee a great portfolio an d secure a spot on an upcoming shoot that would lead to masses of paid work. He kept going on about how hot I was.’ Gary turned bright red. ‘Stupid, I know. People always say I’ve got a great personality…’ He gave Elena a pointed look, and she smiled and side-hugged him. ‘But they don’t say so much about my looks. His offer fed into the securities I used to have that contributed to my old eating disorder problems. His compliments were fabulous, as if I were leaner and taller than any catwalk model. Guess that’s why I’ve been teasing Rory – to try to get the shame and my vanity out of my system, and to not be afraid of talking and joking about modelling. I’ve only recently watched America’s Next Top Model again.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me at the time?’
‘I felt like an idiot. But Diego was great and made me realise it wasn’t my fault. I told Rory once when I drank too much. He was really understanding. Another mate might have laughed.’
The landlord rang the bell at the bar.
Gary looked at Elena. ‘Go for it, gal. Don’t tell him I said so, but Rory’s one of the good guys.’
They sat down and the landlord came out from behind the bar and smiled. ‘It’s a draw, between team Santapolitan’ – Elena and Gary beamed – ‘and team Mistletoehattan.’ Rory and Derek high-fived. ‘Sit tight, here’s the tiebreaker for every team member to win one free drink a week for the whole of 2025: According to myth, why should you avoid your cat as the clock strikes midnight on Christmas Eve?’
Cat… Midnight … The fear came flooding back. Elena sat up with a jolt. No one spoke for a moment and the landlord was about to give the answer when nature expert Caz shot her hand up.
‘My grandma used to tell us this,’ said Caz. ‘Apparently midnight on Christmas Eve is the one time cats gain the power of speech, and anyone who hears them talk will die.’
Elena froze, drowning in a wave of painful memories around the childhood fear that Mummy was going to die. She got to her feet and almost tripped outside, escaping into the sobering air. The pub door creaked open behind her. Rory appeared with both their coats.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘I need to avoid Gary’s jubilation. You haven’t seen how the renovation work is going on my apartment. No time like the present.’