Chapter 29 #2
‘Are you coming to our house for tea?’ Bonnie asked as we headed into the ice-cold evening. ‘We’ve not seen you in ages and Edith wanted to show you her holiday nails. They’ve got candy cane stripes on.’
‘I won’t this time,’ I said, with an apologetic smile. ‘I’m very tired and have presents to wrap.’
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Presents?’
I nodded. I couldn’t believe it was only three sleeps until Christmas.
Two until I’d be heading back to Crandon for the closest thing I’d get to a Christmas family celebration.
I had imagined, many times over the past couple of weeks, that I might spend Christmas Day with Will’s family, but that would be completely unfair under the circumstances.
‘Is one of them a Jellycat smudge elephant?’
I pulled my head back, feigning shock. ‘That’s between me and Father Christmas.’
Bonnie’s face exploded in a grin as she bounced up and down on her toes. ‘That means yes!’
It did. I’d also found a T-shirt that said, I just really like elephants!
‘Can I call you later?’ Will asked.
I braced myself, knowing he wouldn’t be looking for small talk. ‘Of course.’
I spent the next three hours rewording what I had to say, how I would say it.
Replaying that dance, how perfectly we’d fit, as contentment and sparks of passion all mixed up together.
Trying to come up with excuses for not telling him – why break our hearts right before Christmas?
Hadn’t we been through enough already? Another week wouldn’t hurt.
Maybe Lacey would get off, the charges would be dropped and we could carry on as if it had never happened.
In the end, the evening’s fretting was for nothing.
Edith had disappeared for long enough that Will started to grow genuinely concerned, until her friend cracked under parental interrogation and confessed Edith was hiding in yet another friend’s bedroom.
By the time that had been sorted out, Jordan had decided now was the moment to release a torrent of angst about everything that had been happening with Catrin Clements, the black eye, how he thought he might be in love with her and was stressing out about what to get her for Christmas, because her ex, Elon, had got her a Pandora bracelet for her birthday, and how could he hope to match that?
Will had agreed to make a wall plaque with the letters ‘CC’, containing scraps of the poster from their first gig, hoping he could talk with me while he worked, except Jordan insisted upon overseeing the entire process.
By the time the letters were setting, I was too tired for anything more than a brief chat.
Breaking up with the man I’d not even officially got together with would have to wait.
I’d been to a reasonable number of end-of-project celebrations.
None of them came close to the Christmas Eve Eve Friendship Dinner.
Once I’d settled Ernest in Darya’s flat, we opened the doors at four, as the December sun was setting behind the building.
The café resembled an enchanted forest, festooned with silver birch branches and ivy vines sprayed with fake snow and intertwined with tiny fairy lights.
Light-up letters spelled out ‘welcome’ across the top of the piano, where Donovan softly played, and welcome we most certainly were.
Almost all the guests who’d booked in turned up for the cranberry martini or mock-tini that Joel had been perfecting over the past few days.
We’d devised an ice-breaker game for smaller groups, and Darya and Lola had made paper crackers filled with jokes, conversation starters and fun puzzles for each table to solve while they ate Samira’s melt-in-the-mouth savoury mini mince pies.
As predicted, it was a ragtag bunch including some quirkier characters, but the original Friends distributed ourselves among the three tables and ensured things remained convivial.
It turned out a few people already knew each other.
Two of them, Jane and Lionel, were recently divorced.
We jiggled things around so they could sit at different tables, but Jane came over to chat to her ex-husband so often, we ended up swapping so they could be together.
Halfway through dessert, Jane climbed onto Lionel’s lap, wrapped one of her three feather boas around his neck and started feeding him chestnut profiteroles, so we relocated them a third time to a table for two in the corner by the Christmas tree.
Once tea, coffee and mints had been served, Donovan took his seat at the piano.
We ended up pushing most of the tables to the side, clearing space for a young man, Gussie, who had come in full Scottish regalia, to demonstrate his Highland dancing, which Glenda, who proudly told us she was turning eighty-seven on Christmas Day, then insisted he teach her.
Soon, most of us were reeling, twirling, stomping and clapping.
Donovan somehow managed to give the carols and Christmassy tunes a Celtic twist, and the second he stopped for a break, I collapsed in one of the armchairs, my sides aching from a combination of overexertion and laughter.
For a moment, I watched them all, these friends of mine.
Joel had been dancing with a girl from the archery group he attended.
She was gazing up at him shyly as he proudly showed her his favourite Outlaw poster.
Merry and Ray were arm in arm, sharing a story with someone who’d recently moved to their street.
Lola had been approached by at least four different men, sending each one away again with a firm smile, instead choosing to spend the evening with two middle-aged women, who, it turned out, had been at school together, yet hadn’t seen each other in over thirty years, thanks to one of them having lived abroad until losing her partner earlier in the year.
Darya appeared with two glasses of cava, flopping into the other chair.
‘How are you doing?’ I asked, searching her face for any signs of panic.
‘Did you see the word for today?’
I checked my phone.
HOME.
Smiling, I felt bold enough to reach for her empty hand.
‘That is how this feels.’ Darya sighed in contentment. She gave me a sideways glance. ‘Not simply because I live upstairs.’
‘It’s been amazing.’
‘My favourite Christmas tradition so far.’ She gestured towards a man currently deep in conversation with Donovan, hands flying everywhere as he spoke.
‘Did you meet Stas? He was recently granted asylum. He grew up two hundred miles from my hometown. Different countries, he lived across the border, but he agrees that most of what happens on this dreary, damp island is utterly incomprehensible.’ She smiled, eyes gleaming.
‘He is a neurosurgeon. We had a most interesting discussion about the intersection between mental processing and brain structure.’
‘Darya!’ I exclaimed. ‘Have you asked him out, yet?’
She laughed. ‘He mentioned an upcoming exhibition on insanity through the ages that I might enjoy.’
Before I could respond, the door to Tucker’s opened and Will stepped in.
I’d just about recovered my breath after all that dancing, and here he was stealing it again.
Will always looked gorgeous. This evening, if I’d had to sum him up in an advent challenge word, it would be dashing.
He was wearing a suit, with a white dress shirt and deep-blue bowtie.
His hair was swept back, he’d left a faint stubble on his jaw and his eyes shone.
It could have seemed overdone, even silly for a small café in a lowly village in the back end of beyond.
However, alongside Gussie’s kilt, Joel’s Robin Hood outfit, two people dressed as elves – one Christmas, the other Tolkien – and Jane’s feather boas, he was exquisite.
Will scanned the crowd, his face lighting up when he spotted me, which did nothing to settle the fireworks fizzing in my belly.
He’d crossed the room before I’d had a chance to straighten my dress, although Darya had enough time to wink, smirk and whisper, ‘You’d better do a Jane and Lionel on that man this evening.
That killer suit is all for you,’ before slinking off.
I stood up, because my nerves were going haywire, and besides, aside from the Christmas tree outfit, Will had only seen me in everyday wear, and my dress was beautiful.
I’d been given it by a client who worked in fashion, and the swishy skirt, boat-neck and cobalt satin suited me perfectly.
I’d even curled my hair like Jen, my old hairstylist, had shown me eons ago.
‘Wow.’ Will was grinning like a small boy on Christmas morning, and I couldn’t help smiling back. ‘You look stunning.’
‘Thank you. You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.’
‘Looks like you’ve been having fun in here.’
‘It’s been fabulous. But what are you doing here?’ I caught myself, holding up a hand. I might have had more cranberry martinis than I’d realised. ‘I mean, I didn’t think you were coming.’
Will had politely declined a ticket, because although he had been short of friends until joining the group, he wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, and Jordan was out with Catrin and the other Bigley Boys so he had no one to babysit Bonnie.
‘Jordan came home early.’
‘Ah. The present didn’t go down well?’
Will rolled his eyes. ‘The present went down so well, they decided to skip the second round of bowling and have some alone time back at ours. I think my son might be getting his first girlfriend tonight.’ He grimaced good-naturedly. ‘I didn’t want to be there when it happened.’
‘You trust them at home with no adult supervision?’
Will laughed. ‘As brilliant and amazing as Jordan is, he was shaking with nerves sitting on the same sofa as her. I’m confident he’ll be taking things at a sensible pace.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’re here.’
He looked at me, his smile softening. ‘Me, too.’