Chapter 18
James: Every Day’s Like Christmas
I’ve been asking The Boss what happens up here on Christmas Day, but he’s not given much away. He seems quite surprised that I expected anything special to happen.
‘What do you expect me to do? I mean it’s heaven here every day – literally! How much better is it meant to get?’ He’s got a point. I suppose it’s just I’m used to all the build up to Christmas back on Earth.
Now the big day has arrived, and it does seem just like any other day up here, and to be fair, that’s pretty good.
But stupidly I’d not anticipated how rubbish I was going to feel waking up without Amy on Christmas morning.
Amy and I used to love Christmas together and we’d really go large.
God knows how over the top we’d have been if we’d had kids!
I sometimes wonder how that would have been, to have been a dad.
At the back of my mind I always thought it would happen one day.
I had a vague vision of teaching my kids to ride a bike, taking them on holiday to the beach, helping them to body board and later teaching them to surf, being there for them through all their major life events like starting school, going to uni, first job, and generally just being there when they needed me.
But instead, it turns out I couldn’t even be there for Amy, never mind to support a family. So, it’s just as well we didn’t have a baby. It would have been bloody hard on her if I’d left her with a kid to raise on her own. And harder for her to find another partner one day if she had a baby.
I’m trying to be cheerful, but I’m actually feeling really hollow inside, because I can’t help dwelling on the things she and I would have been doing if we were together today.
I’d always make breakfast in bed on Christmas Day and on the tray I’d sneak one tiny present for her to open first thing while we ate breakfast – the rest would be under the tree for later.
Usually it was something small like a pair of earrings, or a nice pen – she’s got a thing for fancy notepads and pens, she’s honestly not safe with a credit card in a stationery shop.
But last year, although the present I put on the tray was small, I was kind of cheating, as it was the keys to a car.
She told me off, very nicely, for splashing out, but she really did need a new one.
She was still driving round in a clapped-out old thing she’d bought when she was a student.
I had some money to spare from selling some shares my gran had left me, and when I was passing the dealership in Bristol and saw the bright red Mini Cooper, I just knew I had to get it for Amy.
And now I’m so glad I did, because I feel happier knowing her car’s not likely to break down – unlike the old one.
It’s so rubbish not being there for her.
It’s really got to me today, which reminds me, I really need to talk to The Boss about this faulty sadness filter.
In the meantime I’m just going to have to put a brave face on it.
Don’t want to ruin everyone else’s Christmas Day by moping around.
And I can see Luke and Andy just coming up the drive by my house – we’ve agreed to meet here because we’ve made plans for today.
After some very late nights, we now have a large batch of bikes ready.
And they’re looking pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself.
Particularly considering how we’ve had to put them together, first time using a 3D printer and all that.
So today was supposed to be the day for handing them out to the kids here.
We thought we’d covered every eventuality.
Our army background has taught us to be prepared for the unexpected.
But there was one thing none of us had thought of.
Snow! Somehow The Boss seems to think that everyone wants a white Christmas.
And to be fair, any casual observer from up here would think that snow is all people want for Christmas.
I mean, it’s on just about every Christmas card, it’s mentioned in loads of Christmas songs, and there’s even a movie named after our obsession with the white powdery stuff. (Haha! No, not Cocaine Bear!)
So, okay, we might all love a white Christmas, but you can’t bloody cycle through snow.
So it’s completely scuppered our plans for the kids’ bikes.
Guess the bikes are just going to have to wait for another day.
And anyway, here comes The Boss now, so we were probably never going to get away with handing out the bikes today.
Gabe and his pal Mike arrived a few minutes ago and they’re mucking around in the snow like big kids, tossing snowballs at each other, cracking up with laughter.
Meanwhile Andy and Luke and I are just trying to look casual, adopting our poker faces in the hope that The Boss won’t suspect we were up to anything.
‘What’s up guys?’ he asks.
‘We’re just hanging out, you know, enjoying the snow. Hadn’t seen any for a while,’ I reply.
‘Well, I know how much you guys all like a white Christmas, so…’ He pauses. ‘What in heaven are you doing?’
Uh oh! Did we miss a bike when we were stashing them back away because of the snow?
‘Um, we…’ I start, rapidly racking my brains for excuses. Then I realise he is staring behind me to where Gabe and Mike are lying on their backs, looking pretty comical flapping their arms and legs in the snow.
‘Gabe, Mike, whatever are you up to?’
Gabe looks up guiltily, hastily getting up from the ground.
‘Err, snow angels.’
‘Well, snow archangels to be precise,’ adds Mike, also getting to his feet.
The Boss shakes his head, baffled. Probably not used to the AAs letting their hair down like that.
‘Don’t suppose you happen to have any skis do you?’ asks Andy, helpfully changing the subject.
‘You guys ski?’ asks The Boss.
‘Too right,’ says Luke. Got pretty good at it when we were in Finland – army training, you know.’
‘That’s no problem. I can get you some skis. But I could do with a favour in return.’
‘Fire away,’ says Andy.
‘Well, I could do with a hand taking the sleds round to all the kids. I want them to get them ASAP so they can make the most of this lovely snow.’
‘Father Christmas not helping you out then?’ I can’t help asking.
The Boss looks at me slightly disparagingly.
‘Ha ha! Well, if you’re busy I’ll just have to do it myself.’
‘Hey, it’s fine. Of course we’ll help – right fellas?’
‘Sure, love to,’ says Luke. And he will love doing this. He’s fantastic with kids. Such a shame he came up here so early and didn’t get to have a family. He’d definitely have made a brilliant dad.
So, we spend the next couple of hours distributing sleds to kids, with the help of Gabe and Mike, and honestly we’ve had a ball.
I’d forgotten how much fun you can have with a sled.
And these kids are so chuffed. Part of me is gutted we couldn’t give them the bikes, but they’ll keep, and of course the sleds and snow are perfect for today.
The Boss was as good as his word and got us some skis, and then he had a helicopter pick us up and take us to some slopes we didn’t even know existed, complete with ski lift – and no queue!
We’re having the most amazing afternoon, and I’m halfway down a black run when my mind jumps to the last time a crowd of us went skiing with partners in Alpe d’Huez.
We always loved going there because the snow was so reliable, with the resort being so high altitude, plus it’s officially the sunniest ski resort in France, and the nightlife is brilliant too.
Luke’s wife, Becky, and Amy were like best buddies from the moment they met, so Amy loved going on the big army crowd holidays just as much as I did.
And now this run I’m on is just so similar to La Sarenne in Alpe d’Huez, I feel like I’m right back there, and suddenly the sense of loss is completely overwhelming and I have to get off the piste and stop for a breather.
‘You okay, James?’ yells Andy, rapidly reducing his speed as he approaches.
I give him a thumbs up, but I guess he’s not convinced as he skis right up to me and stops.
‘What’s up, mate?’
‘Ah, you know what it’s like. Just suddenly felt like I’d been transported back to Alpe d’Huez – remember the good times we had there?’
‘How could I forget?’ He grins, but I can see there’s concern on his face too. ‘That filter still not working then?’
‘Not one hundred per cent.’
‘You need to get your buddy onto that. Tell him you’re not playing chess any more until he gets it sorted for you.’
‘Yeah, cheers for the suggestion, Andy. Threatening The Boss definitely seems like a good way to go.’
‘Well, you need to get him to do something. Or ask for a refund,’ he jokes. ‘This place is meant to be heaven, after all, and grief is definitely not heavenly.’
He’s got a point.
A couple of hours later, we’re warming up in a pub with a roaring log fire, and I’m attempting to drown my sorrows in a large whisky, although that’s easier said than done.
Alcohol up here isn’t really designed to drown sorrows, because generally people don’t have them.
I’m just about to see if a shot of tequila will have any more effect when I get a message from The Boss asking me to go over to his place.
The Boss has a plan to try to get Amy to meet someone new over Christmas.
He’s suggested I go over there, and we can check in on her together, and no doubt he’ll ask me to have a game of chess too.
I think he might be worried I’m going to take it badly when I see her with another bloke.
And I might. But I know it needs to happen.
He looks up from his supersized screen when I arrive.
‘Quick, I’ve rewound the viewer, ‘cos this was happening earlier while we were out. See, they’d already started the meal, and he’s sitting really close to her. Come and see.’ There’s an empty chair ready next to his, and he pats the seat to indicate for me to sit down.
‘I can’t see much.’
He tilts the screen round further towards me.
‘No, it’s not that. It’s all blurred.’
‘You just need some glasses, mate. Nah, just kidding, no one needs glasses up here.’
Oh yeah, come to think of it, I haven’t seen anyone wearing glasses. I guess eyesight must be perfect here.
‘No, look – see it’s zoomed in on someone, but you can’t actually see a thing, it’s all fuzzy.’
He moves the screen back towards himself to get a better look. ‘Ah that. No, that’s deliberate blurring.’
‘Why?’
‘Bodily fluids, excretions. That sort of thing.’
‘Huh?’
‘Oh yes, you’ll be glad of that blurring, my friend – if you haven’t been already. Stops you seeing all sorts of things you’d never be able to unsee, but you’d so wish you could.’
‘Such as?’
‘Ah, come on, you don’t need me to spell it out for you.
No, there are certain things someone else should never see another person do, particularly without permission.
We worked that out pretty early on in beta testing for this app.
So we set it up for auto-blurring when certain bodily functions take place.
Liquids are usually not something you want to see, so we blur them – and somehow we ended up blurring gases too – so that guy who’s blurred, well, I expect he just passed wind. ’
‘Ah, makes sense. But you missed something, you didn’t blur out tears.’
‘No, not tears. To be fair, you’d hardly have seen that lovely girl of yours in the first few months if she’d been blurred every time she was crying.’
‘True.’ I feel really, really guilty just thinking about that. Even now she still cries every day, and it’s been nearly a year.
‘Anyway, she’s not crying right now. In fact, I’d say it seems like she’s having a good time. Look, they’re getting on really well.’ He sounds pretty pleased with himself.
Oh. So it’s actually happening. She’s recovering, moving on. So why am I feeling these horrible twinges, like a kind of cramping pain deep inside?
He points to where Amy is on the screen, zooms in more, and that’s when I clock who it is she’s sitting next to at the dinner table.
‘Oh, for god’s sake.’
He raises an eyebrow at me.
‘Sorry, for fuck’s sake.’
‘Better.’ He tuts, shakes his head and laughs.
‘But seriously, is that the best you could do? I thought you were going to find a way to fix her up with Simon. This isn’t Simon. This is Gareth. And you do know Gareth’s gay, right?’
He takes a closer look. ‘You sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure. I’ve known him for years. We grew up next door to each other.’
‘Right. Well, no. Of course I didn’t know. I thought I could rely on your mum to sort things out. I just persuaded her telepathically that she needed to play Cupid for the day.’
‘Well, that wouldn’t be hard. She’s always trying to matchmake – and with the added challenge of getting Gareth on the straight and narrow, so to speak. She’ll be loving that.’
‘Ah. So, not ideal partner material, not for Amy at any rate.’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yep, not your finest hour.’
‘Hmm. Nope. Not much I can do at this stage. We’ll have to come up with a plan B.’
‘We?’
‘Okay, me. I’ll have to come up with a plan B. Any ideas?’
Not that impressive for an all-powerful god. But he’s such a nice guy it seems a bit harsh to get annoyed with him, and somehow I resist the temptation to let out an exasperated sigh.