Chapter 25
At the end of the meal, which Stacey spent most of listening to Carol’s random stories of her life, Will suddenly touched her hand. Stacey turned to him to see that Rachel had disappeared, her seat empty.
‘Sorry, Stacey, I didn’t mean to ignore you, it’s just that I haven’t seen Rachel since the summer conference.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, desperately trying to remember Carol’s wise words. That Rachel was actually her Angel Gabrielle flown in to save her from a doomed relationship. Will looked at her and squeezed her shoulders. ‘You really are a wonderful person,’ he said, in exactly the same tone as one might say ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ when you are trying to gently dump someone.
‘Thanks,’ sighed Stacey.
She looked at Will just as the DJ put ‘Last Christmas’ on as a prompt to get the dance floor filled. She’d had such high hopes for this relationship. Will coming along felt like she finally had a life again and now it was all slipping through her fingers. She bit her lip to try to stop a tear from falling down her cheek.
‘I’m actually really tired,’ she said. ‘Can we have just one dance and then I might call it a night? I’m sorry. You stay, please, but I’ll head home, if you don’t mind.’
She was very aware that she had just handed Rachel to him on a plate, given him a Get Out of Jail Free card, added certainty to his night of hope. He lit up even further right before her eyes.
‘Of course,’ he said, getting up and taking her hand, way faster than was polite. ‘If you feel tired you get yourself home. I’d better stay, though. Would look bad if I left so early.’
‘It would,’ agreed Stacey. ‘Come on – I’ve got a dance in me. At least let’s do that before I leave you to it.’
George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley had brought people flooding onto the dance floor just as the DJ had intended, and Stacey could feel one of her Christmas wishes coming true. To be at a Christmas party in a magical place dancing to ‘Last Christmas’ with a handsome man. Pity the handsome man wasn’t hers. Will grabbed her hands and raised them above her head, grinning away. He looked elated that his Christmas dream had suddenly come true. She’d never seen him so smiley. Oddly, she didn’t mind. Why was that? Was it because she’d spotted that Will had never spoken to her the way she had watched him speak to Rachel? He had never lit up like that in her company. Never. And she realised that was what she wanted. What she deserved. Just like Diane had said: whoever it was, he should be worth it. The real dream was to have a man light up like a Christmas tree for you. And clearly Will wasn’t that man.
She saw Carol at the edge of the dance floor, dancing with a nervous-looking young woman. She wondered if this is what Carol did. Saw it as her job in life to stop women falling for the wrong guys. Or even guys falling for the wrong guys, if her story about her friend was anything to go by. Whoever Carol was, Stacey was glad she had met her. It almost felt as if she had had two fairy godmothers looking after her this evening.
She forced a grin as ‘Last Christmas’ came to an end. Time to exit stage left. It had been swell for a moment. The anticipation had been exciting, and just being in this place, at Christmastime … well, that was amazing, but she found she was oddly looking forward to going home. And being with Grace, knowing that Grace would be full of happiness at her night with Yang. And that she would have had a lovely time. And actually Stacey was looking forward to seeing Yang. Knowing he would be pleased to see her, even though Will couldn’t wait to see the back of her.
‘Well, I guess that’s it,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘I just need to get my bag from the table.’
‘I’ll see you out,’ said Will, taking her hand and leading her quickly off the dance floor.
Rachel was in her seat when they got back to the table.
‘Stacey’s leaving,’ Will told Rachel. ‘But I’m staying.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Rachel replied, looking at Stacey.
‘I’m shattered,’ she explained. ‘Not used to late nights, you know. I have a young daughter back at home so it means Yang, our babysitter, can go home early, too, so you know, it’s all good. It’s all great. I’ll leave you to it.’ She glanced up at Will, aware she was waffling and overexplaining.
‘Yang is the guy I was telling you about,’ Will said to Rachel. ‘The one who thumped me at the Nativity play. Total maniac. Just because I laughed at a kid singing his stupid song.’
‘A kid?’ questioned Stacey. ‘Not just a kid. You mean my daughter.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ said Will, still laughing. ‘You should have seen him,’ he told Rachel. ‘It was hilarious. I mean, half the audience was laughing at Stacey’s daughter. And then this chubby little guy punches me right in the middle of it. And we get hauled into the headmistress’s office. I mean, you couldn’t have written it. So funny.’
As Stacey watched Will recollecting the Nativity play, laughing yet again. She could quite understand why Yang had hit him. She’d actually like to hit him herself right now.
She knew it was pathetic but she couldn’t help herself. She picked up a glass of wine and threw it in Will’s face.
‘What the …!’ he exclaimed, spluttering.
‘That’s for Grace, Yang and me,’ she said. ‘That’s for laughing at Grace at the Nativity play, that’s for laughing at Yang now and that’s for taking me for someone that you could just string along and pick up and use as and when I was useful for you.’ She turned to walk away.
‘Hey, I never …’ continued Will.
Stacey turned back. ‘Let me just say this,’ she said, catching Carol watching out of the corner of her eye. ‘Don’t ever pick on a lonely woman again. Every single mum out there is worth more than you. So I don’t want to see you pulling a fast one with any of the single mums outside the school gate ever again, do you hear? I cannot believe I’m saying this. But stick to the younger ones who have the time to be messed around and don’t have the children who shouldn’t be messed around with. Ones like her. Have a lovely evening with Rachel. I hope you enjoy each other’s shallow company and are able to walk away tomorrow with a clear conscience.’
She took a step back and faced the both of them. Rachel was looking very uncomfortable and Will looked in shock.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she said. She turned and stalked towards the exit. Carol was waiting with her coat at the edge of the dance floor.
‘You go, girl,’ she said, slipping her coat over her shoulders. ‘You just made my night. Keep walking, don’t look back. I can tell you now that they looked crushed. You own the night, princess. Now just keep on walking.’
Stacey didn’t look back. She held her head high and kept walking up the stairs, then down the corridor and then out through the heavy door and into a cobbled courtyard. She kept strutting, knowing she was not running away: this was truly a victorious exit. She carried on right along the moat walk until she got to the exit where a Beefeater tipped his hat as she left the castle. She climbed into a hackney carriage and leaned back on the seat as she watched the towers disappear into the night air. She wondered exactly what Will and Rachel were thinking or doing, still captive in the Tower. She found that she didn’t really care.
Eventually, the cab pulled up outside her block of flats and she looked to see lights glowing from her sitting room. With any luck Grace would still be up, knowing Yang would have been a soft touch when it came to bedtime. She thought about the good time her and Yang must have had together and found herself looking forward to joining them.
Stacey thought about all the amazing things she had seen that night as she got in the lift. The London Eye lit all the colours of the rainbow, the Thames reflecting all the pretty lights along the Embankment, the Tower of London, resplendent with Christmas decorations. She had celebrated Christmas in the same space as some of her favourite queens from history and yet her most favourite sight of the evening greeted her as she walked through the door of her own home.
The lounge was transformed. A dozen or more Chinese lanterns hung from the ceiling above Grace and Yang, sitting either side of the coffee table, cross-legged on the floor. An array of takeaway boxes sat between them. There was no other lighting apart from the emergency torch that usually sat on the shelf in the kitchen. Christmas tunes were blaring out from somewhere and Grace was crying with laughing as she attempted to pick up a prawn with chopsticks. They were having so much fun they didn’t even hear Stacey come in.
‘Room for a small one?’ she asked, kicking her shoes off and dropping to the floor.
‘Muuuum!’ screamed Grace. ‘What are you doing home?’ Grace threw herself at her mum and enveloped her in a massive hug. A hug from her daughter had never felt so good.
‘Was it rubbish?’ asked Grace. ‘Was Will rubbish? Did he not ask you to dance? Did he dance with someone else?’
Stacey stared at her daughter. ‘Pretty much all of the above,’ she said.
‘Excellent,’ said Grace, punching the air. ‘Just what I asked Santa for.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Yang. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘You know what,’ Stacey said. ‘I’m not, actually. As a wise woman told me tonight, better to be alone than lonely with an arsehole. Or something like that.’
Yang’s face broke out into a grin. ‘I think you’re the wise woman tonight,’ he said.
‘Finally got there,’ she agreed.
‘Better late than never,’ he said.
‘Jesus, Mum, you can’t say arsehole,’ cried Grace. ‘If you can say arsehole then I can say fuck. Know what I mean?’
Stacey laughed. ‘I know what you mean. I’ll mind my language in the future.’
‘You just do that. You can’t just come swanning in here after a night out and think you’re God’s gift, young lady.’
‘You are funny,’ said Stacey.
Grace grinned. ‘Thanks for coming home, Mum,’ she said. ‘We were missing you, weren’t we, Yang?’
‘Absolutely,’ he agreed. ‘Here, have some chopsticks. Grace is in desperate need of further tuition.’
Stacey smiled gratefully at him. She looked up at the beautiful Chinese lanterns gently swaying above them.
‘You put these up for Grace?’ she asked.
‘Grace said she’d never been to a Chinese restaurant so I thought I’d try and bring a Chinese restaurant here. It’s just a few lanterns, but you get the jist.’
‘It’s amazing!’ said Grace. ‘And I’ve nearly learned how to use chopsticks. Watch this.’
Stacey watched as Grace violently stabbed a prawn until it was pierced through. She held it aloft triumphantly.
‘Really excellent technique,’ said Stacey.
‘Have you eaten?’ asked Yang.
‘Barely,’ replied Stacey, eyeing up the food spilling out all over the coffee table.
‘I’ll get you a plate,’ said Grace, leaping up. ‘We can have a Christmas Chinese party here. The three of us. Much better than the one you were at.’
‘Sorry your night didn’t go well,’ Yang said when Grace left the room.
Stacey looked at Yang thoughtfully. ‘It wasn’t what I thought it would be but, nonetheless, a successful outcome. Made me realise a few things.’
‘Good,’ replied Yang. He looked down and skilfully scooped up a prawn before looking back at her. ‘You were always way too good for him, you know.’
‘I think I realise that now. But thank you for saying that. You didn’t have to. And I totally understand now why you hit him.’
‘He was just being so mean to Grace. I couldn’t let him do that.’
‘But to actually hit him?’
‘I know. Surprised myself, actually. Not like me at all.’
Stacey recalled Will describing Yang as short and chubby and it made her blood boil. He wasn’t short and chubby. He was, well, he was just Yang.
‘You deserve someone great. Really you do,’ said Yang.
‘Well, that’s really good of you to say.’ She paused. She suddenly felt bad for the way she sometimes treated Yang at work. ‘Look, Yang, I realise that I’m not always the nicest to you. I’m sorry if I’ve taken out my anger on you for all the privilege you have, being male in the workplace. You didn’t deserve that.’
‘It’s OK,’ he shrugged, looking down.
She realised at that moment how kind Yang had always been to her and she had not always returned the courtesy.
‘Look, you must have better things to do than spend your evening with a seven-year-old girl and her miserable, rejected mother. If you need to get off then obviously we won’t keep you.’
‘Well, I, er, I promised I’d do fortune cookies with Grace so, you know, it’s fine. I’ll go after we’ve done those.’
Stacey nodded.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘What for?’
‘For being Grace’s friend. For being patient with her.’
Yang nodded. ‘It’s funny how you find the people you like in the strangest of places, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘It sure is,’ replied Stacey, looking at him. ‘It sure is.’
The three of them did fortune cookies, squealing with laughter at the weird sayings. Yang started to make up some of his own, all containing the word ‘donkey’, which Grace thought was the best thing ever. Stacey thought they were pretty funny too. Then suddenly it was somehow approaching midnight and Stacey fleetingly thought what could be happening now if she had stayed at the party. She strongly suspected she’d be talking to Carol because Will would have mysteriously disappeared somewhere with Rachel. It felt highly unlikely that she would have been swaying along to a romantic Christmas tune before having a romantic stroll along the riverside.
She announced that they had better clear away, which Yang insisted on doing with Grace, allowing Stacey to go and change out of her dress. She hung it up on the side of her wardrobe, thinking wistfully that even the most stunning of dresses hadn’t made her dream come true. She changed into her pyjamas, took off her make-up and brushed out her hair. She looked in the mirror: the princess had gone. Back to single mum, council worker Stacey.
She walked back into the lounge and there she found Yang and Grace on the sofa, both fast asleep. She smiled, then sat down next to Yang, rested her head on his shoulder and promptly fell asleep too, thinking the after-party had been so much better than the actual party.